When Tehran Met Baghdad at IFFI 2025

By Pickle November 26, 2025

Two nations, two films, one festival—stories of hair, cake, and hope unite Iran and Iraq at IFFI 2025, revealing resilience amid adversity.

In a year marked by geopolitical uncertainty and persistent economic sanctions, two cinematic voices—one from Iran, the other from Iraq—stood out at the International Film Festival of India (IFFI), offering raw, urgent glimpses into the lived realities of ordinary people.

At a recent IFFI press conference, the creative teams behind My Daughter’s Hair (Raha) and The President’s Cake joined forces, not just to discuss their films, but to trace the fault lines where personal memory and national trauma converge.

Stories Born from Sanctions and Survival

For audiences and industry insiders alike, the press conference was a reminder that art often flourishes under constraint. Both Iran and Iraq remain in the global headlines, their citizens grappling with sanctions, censorship, and economic hardship. But at IFFI, their filmmakers reframed these headlines—not as statistics, but as stories of family, hope, and resistance.

My Daughter’s Hair: An Iranian Family’s Quiet Struggle

Director Seyed Hesam Farahmand Joo’s feature debut, My Daughter’s Hair, competes for IFFI’s Best Debut Feature Film award. The film centers on Raha, a young girl who decides to sell her hair to buy a laptop—a modest act that spirals into a family crisis.

“I wanted to portray the situation of women in my country,” Hesam shared, noting that Raha’s sacrifice reflects the hidden burdens women shoulder in today’s Iran.

Producer Saeid Khaninamaghi offered a sobering perspective on the current climate. “People are going down financially. The middle class is becoming poor,” he said.

“In our film, a family’s entire economy collapses because of one laptop. That is exactly what is happening in our society.” Recent international sanctions, he explained, have eroded not just savings, but the very social fabric that holds families together.

Rejecting the stereotypical “drab poverty” lens, Hesam insisted on capturing the vibrancy and dignity of everyday life.

“Poor families also have colourful, happy moments. They laugh, they celebrate, they find colour in their lives. I wanted to show that truth, through the aesthetics of my frames,” he emphasized. His ambition is also commercial: “Earlier, these films were not considered commercial. I want to change that.”

Yet, the struggles of Iranian filmmakers go beyond economics. Khaninamaghi highlighted ongoing battles with censorship. “Parts of films get cut, and the audience struggles to understand the full story,” he lamented—a reality that continues to shape and sometimes stifle Iranian cinema.

The President’s Cake: Iraq’s First Art-House Fairy Tale

From Iraq, The President’s Cake brought its own narrative of survival—this time, through the eyes of Lamia, a young girl conscripted to bake a cake for Saddam Hussein. Editor Alexandru-Radu Radu explained that director Hasan Hadi opted for a “street-cast” approach: all actors are non-professionals, imbuing the film with authenticity and immediacy.

The film’s plot, set during the 1990s, explores the absurdities and terrors of life under dictatorship, when even joy—like baking a cake—can be a form of resistance.

“Hasan wanted Lamia to be a symbol of Iraq,” Radu noted. “Everything happening to her reflects everything happening to the country.”

The film, competing for the ICFT UNESCO Gandhi Medal, is notable for being Iraq’s first art-house production—a landmark in a nation still building its cinematic identity. “Unlike Iran, Iraq doesn’t have a rich film tradition. Directors like Hasan are now building that industry,” Radu said.

A Cinematic Bridge from Tehran to Baghdad

Despite originating in different countries and traditions, both films grapple with the punishing impact of sanctions, censorship, and authoritarianism. More importantly, they honor the resilience of ordinary people—those who, even in the shadow of crisis, find ways to nurture hope, dignity, and dreams.

As the conversation closed, it was clear that these two films do more than chronicle hardship; they build bridges—between nations, between histories, and between the industry professionals eager to support bold new voices from the Middle East.

At IFFI 2025, storytelling proved once again that it is both a mirror and a lifeline, connecting Tehran and Baghdad not by politics, but by the enduring power of cinema.