Aucun ours

The movie "No Bears" has a sensitive and dramatic plot against the backdrop of political, religious, tradition, and cultural repression in the current Iranian world. There are two love stories told in parallel by the excellent director Jafar Panahi, who himself suffers military repression for his political movies that challenge the dictatorial Iranian government. Jafar Panahi manages to capture and transmit all the tension that Iranians suffer under the eyes of the so-called Cultural Police. We sense the pressure in the air and nobody wants to compromise or get involved or close to citizens considered traitors to the country and to the traditional customs.

Like many other incredible Iranian movies, "No Bears" is second to none in terms of quality. Simple in showing the daily life of a village and the background of filming a movie, but also bold in showing us what it's like to live in a repressive regime and not bend.

A most excellent movie ! Thoroughly enjoyed it. For sure there were many layers and implicit meanings I missed but that is also what made this film so intriguing. The contrast between the mountain town in Iran and the city in Turkey, all the details, the character extras that clearly showed the cultural differences, I loved that. The border, the trafficking that was implied, the faithfulness to truth of the central actor who is also the director. It's also a movie that celebrates movie making, how storytelling prevails in film, the impact of a story upon the storyteller. It´s a very poignant movie.

Wonderful footage in a documentary style, great story, amazing insight into life on the frontier.

Well worth seeing.

Director Jafar Panahi is midway in his imprisonment/house arrest in Iran, a victim of a relentless Islamic theocracy. That little matter hasn't kept him from making five films, sometimes using technology to direct remotely, for instance, his current "No Bears," in which he depicts himself directing a film within the film. Directing a Turkish town from a place near the Iranian border lends a romance to an otherwise mortally-dangerous enterprise.

His films show how he fights the restrictions of the regime on his art. All five in some way or another may reveal his oppression and lack of artistic autonomy. Panahi's films reflect his late mentor, Abbas Kiarostami, and his challenging tension between "narrative" and "documentary," when a camera seems to play between fiction and reality.

Because he hasn't been allowed to leave Iran for 10 years, his movies have a cachet usually relegated to an artistic outlaw: "This Is Not a Film," "Closed Curtain," "Taxi" and "3 Faces" are almost classics. New Yorker magazine says "No Bears" is one of the best dramas of the year, and they're right.

In No Bears, after a wild opening in which an exiled Iranian couple argue in the street about a corrupt passport and escape into Europe, we realize it's a scene from the movie he is remotely directing. Then we are thrown into a Romeo and Juliet mash up that leaves Panahi's director at the mercy of local forces, both official and citizenry, who lay tradition and family rumbling at his feet for a photo disc he allegedly has that would resolve a fight over an arranged marriage.

Panahi's director claims he has no such compromising photo of the couple, but he shows little respect for the local traditions inherent in the love affair. Underneath, of course, is his comment on cinema as a means of discerning truth in a culture of fake news. The scene of Panahi feverishly looking for cellphone reception smartly underscores the struggle to find truth.

At the least, No Bears is a profound statement about the power of filmmaking as it clashes with custom and reality. It is a masterful meta-fiction that tells a complicated cultural tale and the fraught participation of cinema. 80 for Brady it is not.

No Bears is a metafictional exploration by Jafar Panahi, tackling the social and political restraints placed on himself and others. While the subject matter might seem daunting, the film is surprisingly accessible. Despite its gravity, it maintains a humble, understated tone, grounded by Panahi's calm demeanour, honesty, and politeness. Moments of dark-tinged humour-like Panahi reviewing footage accidentally left running on a camera-lighten the tension.

Panahi stars as himself, directing a film about two people attempting to migrate illegally, which is presented as a semi-documentary. In a unique twist, No Bears becomes a semi-documentary within a semi-documentary, blurring the boundaries of fiction and reality. Panahi has relocated to a small village near the Turkish border to direct remotely via webcam, as he was subject to a chronic travel ban at the time. Perhaps he sought proximity to his crew or a respite from the surveillance of Tehran. However, his interactions with the local villagers and the tensions of living near the border create a layered narrative that reflects both the film's themes and Panahi's real-life challenges. The frequent disruptions to his work caused by poor internet signal serve as a fitting metaphor for the control and limitations imposed on his creative freedom.

At its core, No Bears is a film about resistance. Panahi refuses to bow to Iranian authorities' attempts to silence him. His dealings with the villagers mirror his experiences with the regime-both characterised by arbitrary rules, superstitions, and traditions that he quietly defies. Acting as a beacon of reason, Panahi invites viewers to question the power of authoritarian systems, suggesting that their strength lies in collective compliance. The title, No Bears, reflects this theme. Villagers keep the young indoors with tales of bears prowling at night, but no such bears exist-a lie that encapsulates the broader dangers of imagined fears used as tools of control.

Panahi's calm rationality contrasts with the fabrications and self-deceptions around him. He resists not only the idea of leaving Iran to escape its constraints but also the notion that he should be forced to abandon his homeland to live freely. Why should he, or anyone, have to leave to live authentically?

Beneath Panahi's serene exterior lies a quiet yet profound frustration-his inability to fully integrate, to prevent tragedy, or to appeal to others' sense of reason. He is like Lemuel Gulliver, bound by the Lilliputians, constrained by a system of small yet unyielding forces.

The way Jafar Panahi successfully transcends and exceeds all the limits in his filmmaking always leaves me mind-boggled and is fascinatingly masterful. This viewing experience left me with a question "To what extent are you willing to go to tell your story?"

No Bears takes us through a powerful journey of sophisticated simplicity that expands boundaries and defies censorship restrictions both mentally and physically and in a blend of fiction and realism with a story of adaptive determination in creating, fear of crucial decisions, and passion for the story.

His ability to shape the narrative with all these elements is beyond impressive as Panahi sheds his lens on a parallel story between reality and fiction under the premise of hope, while metaphorically introducing a bigger political theme of the fear of modern authority versus the absurdity of the superstition that remains a common element in both narratives including the self-reflexively portrayal of himself as a character, which also introduces an intimate layer.

The storytelling crafts beautifully palpable emotions some of which are felt indirectly, where the sense of fear and threat are always visible and kept translating different feelings so well through an observative lens.