Flax to Fire depicts the life and work of Aliasghar Hajibaba, an elite Iranian industrialist and entrepreneur. Originally trained as a quiltmaker in his youth, he manages to start an independent business in the midst of a tumultuous life. With the help of his family, he successfully pursues his endeavors to the point that he eventually becomes known as a founder of Iran’s iron alloys and foundry industry. This film bears witness to Hajibaba’s incessant work ethic throughout his long life. He and his associates also discuss the political struggles, economic problems and social barriers of their times.

“Puzzley” is the name of a four-member group of IT students who, in spite of suitable job opportunities and the opposition expressed by their families, want to start up their own business. Other than their education and determination, all they have is an idea. They need backing, experience and business knowledge, so they leave their small town to go to the capital city of Tehran to realize their dreams. They take time off from university and cram into the baggage compartment of a bus for a 15-hour trip to Tehran where the real challenges begin.

“For my generation who lived through the Iran/Iraq war and the turbulent 1980s in Iran, our greatest wish was to become a doctor or an engineer. We were taught to leave others behind in the marathon of life and work hard in order to attain our common stereotypes of success. Our dream was to live the life of a wealthy doctor or engineer as a member of the nouveau riche. Nobody taught us how to live creatively or which path to take for life or career. We were the products of a conformist mentality and our only duty was to keep our bank accounts full in order to maintain our living standards. This may be why, as a filmmaker, I have always been attracted to people who choose a different path, who change something and create new values. In fact, I believe I am searching for the missing parts of my own character.

Young people who take risks and stray from traditional and safe paths are positive role models. These people face all the difficulties that starting up a new business entails. They believe that collaboration and teamwork are more effective than trying to advance single-handedly. Spending time filming the stories of these ordinary extraordinary people who will never appear on the covers of bestselling magazines has inspired me and changed my life.”

– MEHDI GANJI

On the spring of 1967, when the first Paykan rolled off the assembly line on an outskirt of Tehran, no one thought this car would be produced for 38 years, or that it could have such an impact on a whole nation.

Iran’s Arrow features numerous talking heads who share a common interest for the country’s emblematic car, ranging from historical to sociological analyses, from technical to artistic expertise and from sheer passion to a complicated love-hate relationship. The film uses rare archival footage, as well as a large collection of vintage photos and imagery, to document the history of Paykan, the way it’s been perceived throughout the years, and its links with Iran’s major historical and sociological landmarks, such as the White Revolution (1963), the industrialization, the rise of the middle class, the Islamic Revolution (1979), the Iran-Iraq War (1980-1988), and social economic mutations of the post-war era.

Older Paykan owners – including official and unofficial taxi drivers- testify of the fundamental role it played and still plays in their everyday life, as a means of transport, a source of income, and sometimes an achievement in itself. A number of Paykan enthusiasts, most of them from the younger generation, are being interviewed about their very special relationship with the car they grew up with. The film also documents the decline of the Paykan, while showing how it is still very much alive in the culture and memory of the country. Interviews are also conducted with artists who use Paykan as a medium or the subject of their art.

Shahin Armin is an automotive design-engineer and a lifelong Paykan expert. Born in Tehran and a car enthusiast before he could even talk or walk, he moved to the US in his twenties and worked in the US car industry for 13 years (Chrysler, Michigan and Honda America, Ohio).Although he worked on the design of modern and sophisticated cars, he could never get the Paykan out of his head. In 2009 he started the PaykanHunter.com blog, thus initiating an extensive research about Iran’s emblematic car. Upon returning to Tehran in 2012, he co-curated two Paykan themed art exhibitions exhibiting work from prominent Iranian artists.Iran’s Arrow is a result of his many years of extensive research into the history of this car, his experiences interacting with his fellow Paykan enthusiasts, and his comprehensive understanding of the car’s impact on Iranian society.

Sohrab Daryabandari is a Tehran based professional photographer and filmmaker whose 25 year-long career has been stretching between almost all areas of expertise in analog and digital photography. His work has ranged from journalistic, commercial, and artistic to architectural and industrial photography, which later lead him to editing as well as industrial, artistic and documentary filmmaking.His photographic work, which was regularly exhibited and published in Iran and Europe, has later been influencing his filmmaking, notably in Dammam (Iran, 2003) and Sharveh (Iran, 2005), his two documentaries on ethnic Iranian music.Iran’s Arrow owes him its remarkable photography, the minute treatment of archive material, and its overall filmmaking and editing quality, considering the conditions of production and the limited resources.

Abbas has a dream: a dream that one day, he will be king of a tribe that will be revered by people the world over. The trouble is, he’s got a pretty busy day job. After two German tourists stumbled into his hut in nomadic Iran and left having much enjoyed the hospitality, he began an eco-tourism business that a decade later is thriving. But Abbas is convinced that his destiny lies in establishing his tribe, and is spending more and more time trying to realize his vision – including taking a second wife to be queen. Unfortunately for Abbas, his bitter and hardworking first wife and kids – who keep his business running smoothly – are not at all on board with his plan. Single-minded in his focus, garrulous, stubborn, self-absorbed, and emotional, Abbas is on the verge of big change – and begins confessing all to director Mehdi Ganji.

Born in Iran in 1978. Mehdi Ganji is a 2002 filmmaking graduate from the Tehran University of Art. Having specialized in imagery, he started working as a cameraman and film editor in fiction films and in documentaries, working with various Iranian channels and International networks and television like Newsweek, Arte and etc. He is a member of Iranian Documentary Film Society. He won the best director award in the Fajr Film Festival for I Want to Be a King.

“Lady of the Roses” is the name given to the late Shahindokht Sanati, a lady who went to the Lalehzaar region of Kerman before the Islamic revolution. She replaced poppies with roses and opium with rosewater and took this so far as to transform the agricultural destiny of a whole region. The story is told by Homayoun Sanati, Shahindokhts spouse, three years after her death. He is the founder of Franklin Publishing, Offset printing house, Pars Paper Co. among others and is considered a one-of-a-kind figure in Irans culture, industry, and management.

Capture the struggles of contemporary Iranian singers and musicians working to be heard in their own country. Back Vocal explores Iran’s prohibition, since the Islamic Revolution of 1979, of female solo singers. Mirtahmasb says: “Three years of roaming among musicians of Tehran resulted in two films centered on the theme of restrictions on music in Iran. Back Vocal tells the story of women singers whose unaccompanied singing is forbidden by religious laws of the country, but who nonetheless try to remain active, even if that means taking the second seat. I knew from the beginning that such a film would not get permission to be screened, so I never applied for a permit.”