The House is Black (Forough Farrokhzad, 1962)

The only film directed by Iranian poet Forough Farrokhzad before her premature death at the age of 32 is considered one of the greatest documentaries ever made. Set in a leper colony in northwest Iran, The House Is Black is a dialogue between the passions of the poet (Forough Farrokhzad) and the voice of reason (Ebrahim Golestan). It opens with a blank screen and then takes the viewer into the world on unwatchable but then in miracle of poetry ends on sublime when everything – even the unseen – is understood and accepted.

Far From Home (Sohrab Shahid Saless, 1975)

A transitional film linking Sohrab Shahid Saless's Iranian period with his extended stay in Germany, Far From Home was a meditation on social isolation and stillness. No other film has depicted the painful repetitiveness of an immigrant's life in such candid detail as the film gives us a few days in the life of Husseyin (played by actor and director Parviz Sayyad), a Turkish 'guest worker' in West Berlin.  There's an abundance of elements from other Shahid Saless films: trains, letters written and read, as well as the despairing sight of empty, unmade beds. The vanity of life is captured in dead moments, when even after a character has walked out the frame the camera lingers, staring into the vacuum and revealing a bleak vision of the world of the exploited and the rootless.

Experience (Abbas Kiarostami, 1973)

Abbas Kiarostami’s first mid-length film, The Experience, tells the story of a photography shop errand boy who falls in love with the daughter of a client. Written by his friend Amir Naderi, a renowned director in his own right, as an autobiographical reflection, the film showcases Kiarostami's minimalist and distanced style in full form and stands out as one of his significant works exploring desire and rejection.

The Stranger and the Fog (Bahram Beyzaie, 1974)

Bahram Beyzaie on the set of The Stranger and the Fog

Impossible to see for decades, Bahram Beyzaie's dazzling The Stranger and the Fog, about a mysterious stranger arriving in a drifting boat to a coastal village and falling for a woman, is an endlessly symbolic tale in which ghosts of the past, narrow-minded villagers and forces beyond the controls of the characters take the viewer into a dizzying labyrinth of rituals. In the film's meticulously structured circular narrative, characters, times and spaces rhyme and mirror each other, turning filmmaking into an act of dreaming. Characters are the product of each other's imagination before turning into myth. The films gives the centre of both attention/desire and control to a woman of will therefore it goes beyond the confines of the victimised women of the 1970s Iranian cinema.

The Crown Jewels of Iran (Ebrahim Golestan, 1965) | MoMA

Ebrahim Golestan’s most visually dazzling documentary, The Crown Jewels of Iran  is ostensibly a showcase of the precious jewels housed in the treasury of the Central Bank of Iran, but in reality, it is a bold critique of the treachery of Persian kings. The film’s narration sharply contrasts with its imagery: vibrant shots of jewels in rotation are juxtaposed with Golestan’s voice, condemning the decadence of past rulers. Banned and never shown, the film's powerful message remained hidden for years.

Chess of the Wind (Mohammad Reza Aslani, 1976)

In a mesmerizing take on House of Usher-like themes, set in a decaying feudal mansion, the death of a noble family’s matriarch sets off a power struggle. Mohammad Reza Aslani’s debut feature plunges into a labyrinth of corruption and decay within the household, subtly foreshadowing the revolution to come, while masterfully depicting the hidden inner struggles of Iranian society. This recently rediscovered gem was thought lost after its misunderstood premiere at the 1976 Tehran International Film Festival. However, in 2020, it was restored by the World Cinema Foundation and has since become one of the most acclaimed Iranian pre-revolutionary films. The film features a hauntingly eerie score by Sheyda Gharachedaghi, one of the most prolific female film composers of the 1960s and 1970s.

Brick and Mirror (Ebrahim Golestan, 1964)

The cover of the original pressbook

Iranian cinema’s first true modern masterpiece, Brick and Mirror explores fear and responsibility in the wake of the CIA- and MI6-orchestrated 1953 coup. A Dostoyevskian tale of a Tehran cab driver’s search for the mother of an abandoned baby, it presents a harrowing image of a society rife with corrupted morals and widespread alienation. While rooted in a specific social context, its message resonates universally. The characters often speak without truly communicating, their soliloquies echoing unheard in the endless night they inhabit.