Soore Vahe
Soore Vahe is an Iranian film director and cinematographer. She graduated in theatre from the Faculty of Fine Arts at the University of Tehran. Throughout her professional career, she has also worked in theatre directing, photography, and screenwriting. Her film Zaxme was awarded Best Art Direction at the FICIMAD Festival. Renowned film scholar William Rothman offered the following reflections on her and the film: “All the shots of this black-and-white short film are exquisite, and they are woven together to mesmerizing effect. The film’s goal—and its achievement— is transcendence. I love all those big, expressive closeups. Watching this entrancing film, I wished that I didn’t have to depend on subtitles, which make it hard to fully appreciate and be transported by the visuals. After a while, I stopped trying to read the subtitles. Of course, the words being spoken are important to the meaning of the film, but even without knowing what is being said, these faces and bodies—as filmed and edited—and the sheer expressiveness of these voices, have the power to make this film a spiritually uplifting experience. I’m happy to see that there are filmmakers in Iran who are keeping alive, and keeping faith with, that nation’s great cinematic tradition.”
Why did you shoot Zaxme in black and white?
Because Zaxme is a film about the inner world of a character — it emerges from within one of our protagonists, whether Leila or Sara, and it’s an internal dialogue. Therefore, colors had no place in this film. Colors usually come from the external world, whereas this is an inward gaze. If we look inside ourselves, the world might seem a little black and white; colors may not be as significant. I wanted to emphasize this by using black and white, creating a visual form where, for example, when the characters embrace or come close to each other, the lack of color helps preserve the unity I aimed for. Black and white allowed the shadows to blend, forming a singular visual form — that unity was very important to me.
How did the idea for the screenplay of Zaxme come about, and how was your collaboration with Jaber Manzari and Sina Adeli?
The initial idea for the screenplay came from Shahram Mokri, who was my teacher. We were supposed to create a project during a filmmaking workshop. Given my own filmmaking style and the type of découpage I wanted to present, I decided to adapt and reshape the story. I worked with my friends, discussing how to align the initial idea and text with the filmmaking and découpage style I envisioned.
How did you cast Atousa Jalili and Afrooz Hashemi? What are the similarities and differences between them?
What happened for me was that Atousa had larger eyes, and Afrooz had fuller lips, and I thought they could complement each other in the same way that Sara speaks more logically while Leila is more passionate and speaks from her emotions. Perhaps the difference between them was just that, and that was the reason I chose them. But the similarities they shared were that, I think, what was happening was that, while I didn’t see any physical similarity between them, there was a similarity in terms of form: Leila seemed to blend into Sara’s face. This was important to me because Sara is taller, has a more elongated face, and could fit Leila into her own form. This was according to the screenplay and the film’s concept.
Were there any particular cinematic influences? Some frames are reminiscent of the work of cinematographer Sven Nykvist.
Maybe not at first. At first, because I was working — since I work in photography — and I was working on dual faces, I didn’t have such a thing in mind. But later I realized how interesting it is in cinema — how two faces that come close together are shown. And one of the interesting examples is exactly this cinematographer you mentioned and his work. I also saw many other examples. So, it can be said that they had an influence. But I think it was mostly the type of découpage I wanted that naturally leaned toward this direction: first, separate close-up shots, and then in the middle, shots where they come together, and at the end, a release — where the space completely breaks with a handheld and different camera feel. Such a form existed in my mind. Now, if you pay attention to the nature of the cuts, you can say that the movement happens across the face. And I tried to take that into account even during filming. Since I was the cinematographer myself, I tried that if we panned left from Sara’s face, we would arrive at Leila’s face again from left to right — meaning there is a continuity of movement. Or if I came from top to bottom, then from bottom I would come up again on Sara’s face. I tried to give a continuity to this movement and to be able to place these together. And I’m very happy that now it has been able — you could say it has been able — to come close to the works of that cinematographer. (“Been able” is really the word we should use, because this cinematography was an act of effort and ability for me.) Besides directing, in order to be able to frame the shots exactly the way I wanted, I also did the cinematography and lighting myself. And that’s why it was so enjoyable for me that such a thing could happen and that it could convey such a feeling.
How was your collaboration with the composer, Rastin Hastiparast? What guidance did you give him?
Working with Rastin was a very big event for me. You could say that Rastin Hastiparast is one of my old friends, but collaborating with him in the field of music caused a change within me that became completely clear in my latest work, Between Two Words — meaning, I was able to trust. I could capture many of the images and simply think that Rastin would complete them. And I can say that working with musicians, especially in the realm of film, is very difficult. Those who work in music, especially in cinema, each want to insert their own perspective, because they, too, are creating; they are, in a way, directing as well. They also want their own vision to be present. But what happened between me and Rastin was that we reached a shared vision, and this was very valuable for me. In both projects that I worked on with him, we reached a unified and mutual vision. I didn’t give him specific instructions — rather, I conveyed the emotional expression I had for each scene and my concerns related to it. The good thing that is happening between me and Rastin is that we are getting closer; we both would reach a point where sometimes I couldn’t even express something with words, yet Rastin could convey it through his music. And that is very pleasurable for me.
Where was the final scene filmed, and what feeling do you want the audience to experience at the end?
The final sequence of the film was shot on the terrace of a building complex, and I truly think it should evoke a feeling of liberation — because the camera becomes free, Leila is free, snow is falling; even nature itself seems liberated. And we arrive at a pine tree, and I really loved this feeling. I thought that maybe sometimes, liberation comes from freeing ourselves from thoughts of emotions and loves that are, let’s say, personal or self-destructive. Meaning, sometimes we don’t love someone in order to add something to our lives or to add something to theirs; rather, we are trying to prove something to ourselves. Loves that involve ownership, or loves aimed at proving something — just like in the screenplay, where it says: you love this person [Saman] with these exact f laws, and if these flaws weren’t there, you might not love him anymore. There is release. I think, for me, it was that Leila needed to be freed from this thought, from this weakness, from this fear. That’s why, for me, the final sequence is about liberation.
In which medium do you feel more comfortable: film or theater?
I used to be much closer to theater, but now I understand film much more deeply. I think there is much more imagination flowing in film, and the director has far more freedom to express everything they want to say. In theater, we create something, we build an imagination, but various elements are involved trying to present it as a unified experience. Whereas in film, you can, through découpage, editing, lighting, cinematography — through all of these — create an imagination, or rather, I should say, a world. You can build a world that belongs entirely to you, and that is very enjoyable for me. And I think the film medium is much more comfortable for me.
How has the distribution of Zaxme gone in Iran?
The distribution of Zaxme has not yet begun in Iran. We decided to first take the path of international festivals, and later, perhaps, the possibility of screening it in Iran may arise. In Iran, it was only after the filmmaking workshop had ended and I had made the film that Mr. Shahram Mokri personally invited a group of people — various individuals — who came, watched the film, and shared their thoughts. That was very valuable to me. But if I want to speak specifically about its distribution, the screening was limited to that one session, and after that, the film entered the festival circuit. For me, international festivals offer a unique kind of experience — the idea that someone encounters your work without ever seeing you, without knowing who you are, how you think, or what you look like. They encounter only your work. This is something deeply enjoyable for me, and I see it as a kind of exposure to judgment where the work takes precedence over the self — only your work is judged. Only the film you have made. That is why I focused first on international distribution, and we will consider its release in Iran later.
What are your upcoming filmmaking projects?
One of the projects that I have just completed is Between Two Words, which is now ready for distribution. And I think it’s a very different film for me because a concept seems to have been completed in it — a concept that I had been trying to think about and represent, but in Between Two Words I feel this process has been completed. Its distribution has also started, and the work is moving forward. I had previously done two works, both of which were class projects. Zaxme was also created as a class project. And it can be said that maybe the difference Between Two Words has is that in Zaxme, the idea came from somewhere else and I tried to make it my own — and the same was true for the work.
