Mehrnoush Alia is an Iranian-American screenwriter and director. She graduated from UC Berkeley and Columbia University film school and co-founded the film and theatre production company, Maaa Art.
On the occasion of the world premiere of “1001 Frames” at the Berlin International Film Festival, she talks about her relatively late interest in movies, Iranian cinema and other topics.
Can you elaborate on your career so far and where your interest in cinema came from?
I wasn’t introduced to the world of cinema growing up, so my journey into filmmaking began differently from most people. While many Iranians are cinephiles, keeping up with all the latest films and news, I grew up in the aftermath of the Iran-Iraq war, a time when foreign movies were not available in Iran. Local films were largely propaganda-driven, and I wasn’t interested in that.
It wasn’t until I was seventeen and moved with my family to the USA that I began exploring movies and gradually developed a passion for cinema. I studied at Berkeley, where I worked in the film archive and discovered the vast world of films. I’m a late bloomer, so to speak. What’s more, I went straight from Iranian films to art-house cinema, missing that middle ground of mainstream movies.
The idea for “1001 Frames” goes back to when you were a teen living in Iran. Since then, you graduated from film school and tackled the same theme in “Scheherazade” ten years ago. Have you noticed any change in this area in all these years?
My short debut, “Scheherazade”, was inspired by my personal experiences. Shortly after, the #MeToo movement happened, and I was shocked to see how widespread the issue was. I had assumed it was primarily a problem in Iran due to its undemocratic culture. I became more aware of the power imbalances, and this shift in understanding inspired me to revisit the topic. Regarding the change that happened during these years, I noticed more and more women from different countries were speaking out, which further motivated me.
Check the review of the film
What were the influences you considered while making this film?
Iranian cinema has had a profound influence on my filmmaking. Especially directors like Abbas Kiarostami, Jafar Panahi, and Mohsen Makhmalbaf. Actually, one of the first films I saw, still in Iran, was “Salaam Cinema”. What resonated with me the most was the minimalism – the ability to create impactful work with limited resources. It’s a hallmark of Iranian cinema. The initial spark for my film came from the idea of shooting entirely through an audition camera. This approach restricted me in some ways, but it also felt liberating.
How much freedom did actors have while playing their roles? Were the dialogues carefully written or more improvised?
We had six scripts prepared, but the actors had room to improvise. I wanted to give them the opportunity to portray versions of themselves, blurring the line between fiction and reality. They would read the script, we’d do one take, then tweak it and try again. The scripts provided the framework to drive the story forward, but in the moment, the actors were free to add their own touches. I’m a firm believer in collaboration, and this process allowed us to balance creativity with direction.
Many directors, not just in Iran but also figures like Fellini or Bertolucci, have been praised for their methods of extracting “good acting” from performers, often pushing them to their limits. I’ve always questioned why anyone would glorify putting actors through traumatic experiences. The fact that these directors openly discussed their methods seemed to empower others to do the same, which I find troubling. My approach to working with others seeks to challenge that dynamic, prioritizing authenticity and respect.
Since the entire film takes place during auditions, it begs the question, what was the process of choosing actresses for your film?
Most of the roles were written with specific people in mind, while three actresses I didn’t know well were suggested by Mohammad Aghebati, who teaches acting at the university. We skipped formal auditions, so this part of the process was rather quick.
I was surprised by the way you ended the film. Why did you decide to break the immersion there?
While writing the script, I considered various ways to end the film. In “Scheherazade”, we opted for an open ending, but this time I wanted to try something different. After the first day of improvisations with the actors, I noticed how deeply affected everyone was. It struck me how just reenacting trauma impacted them, so I asked the cinematographer to film the backstage moments, even though I wasn’t sure how I’d use that material.
As I began editing the backstage footage, I realized it was the perfect conclusion, as it felt reflective of the film’s themes and the performative nature of the story. The initial ending was too dark, and I didn’t want to subject the audience to that. Instead, I wanted to provide a sense of relief, a way to reassure viewers that we didn’t actually harm the actresses.
