In a bold act of artistic defiance, acclaimed Iranian film directors Maryam Moghaddam and Behtash Sanaeeha are facing trial for making a film that dares to show the reality of women’s lives in Iran. Their poignant drama My Favourite Cake, hailed by international critics as one of the best films of 2024, has landed the directors in court on charges of “propaganda against the regime,” making a “vulgar movie,” and “spreading prostitution and libertinism.”
The film’s supposed crimes? Depicting a woman drinking alcohol, dancing, and appearing at home without a headscarf – everyday occurrences for Iranian women that have been banned from screens since the 1979 Islamic Revolution. “In 45 years, all the films you have seen show women in the mandatory hijab, even at home. Which is just not true,” explains Moghaddam. By honestly portraying this “double life” and the small freedoms of private spaces, My Favourite Cake has crossed the regime’s red lines.
A Bittersweet Triumph
Despite the grave consequences they now face, Moghaddam and Sanaeeha see the film as a step forward for Iranian cinema. “It feels like it was worth all the difficulties, because we took a step towards what we want to do in cinema in Iran, we crossed the red lines,” says Moghaddam. “It feels for the first time that we’ve made a film in Iran which is real.”
The warm global reception to My Favourite Cake has been a bright spot in an otherwise harrowing year. The directors started shooting in September 2022, just as nationwide protests erupted over the death of Mahsa Amini, a young woman arrested by Iran’s notorious “morality police” for not properly wearing her hijab – the very same offense depicted in a pivotal scene in the film.
We didn’t even know if we should continue shooting or not. But all the crew decided together, we believed that it was our duty to finish the film.
Behtash Sanaeeha
Completing the film was an act of solidarity with Iran’s women’s rights movement, the directors say, even as they knew it would likely provoke a harsh response from authorities. “You cannot be part of a big lie and expect these systematic big lies to change,” asserts Moghaddam. “You must take a step back from the lies. Many people in Iran are doing that now.”
Facing the Consequences
That step has come at a steep price. Prohibited from working or leaving the country while out on bail, Moghaddam and Sanaeeha are in a state of anxious limbo as they await trial at Tehran’s notorious Evin Prison. The contrast between the film’s glowing reception and their personal plight feels jarring. “It’s terrifying but also feels sad and disappointing,” admits Sanaeeha of the court interrogations. “They think that we have made a vulgar movie. You can see the difference in thinking.”
Yet the couple, who are also romantic partners, remain resolute in their commitment to stay and fight for artistic freedom in Iran. “It is something you think about on the hardest days, because if you left maybe life will be easier?” reflects Moghaddam. “But this is like a war, and on the front in any war, if you leave your side, you lose. You have to be there and fight.”
In the face of a regime that has tried to erase the reality of women’s lives for nearly half a century, Moghaddam, Sanaeeha, and a defiant generation of Iranian directors are weaponizing the truth-telling power of cinema. As My Favourite Cake continues to captivate global audiences, its creators remain locked in a battle for the soul of Iranian art and society. Their wish for 2025? “Freedom for everyone in the world.”
