When we speak of Alireza Davoodnezhad, we are in fact referring to an entire filmmaking family. Yet if we are to identify a central element in his directorial approach, it would be his bold commitment to experimentation. Davoodnezhad’s strong inclination toward exploring new possibilities—combined with his artistic instincts and his desire to respond to social concerns—has resulted in a body of work that spans commercial cinema, box-office-friendly films, and at times, astonishingly original works. His experimental drive is not a purely avant-garde impulse; rather, he embeds it within the structure of conventional filmmaking. Davoodnezhad both ventures into diverse genres and creates fresh, inventive situations within those genres. He is even bold enough to reinvent himself in middle age, taking the risk of shooting a feature entirely on a mobile phone. Snake Oil (Roghan-e Mâr) is the result of exactly such daring experimentation.
In his later works, he has distanced himself from classical storytelling and sought to explore various forms of modern narrative. Yet within these many experiments, Davoodnezhad has consistently tried to turn his camera toward life itself, depicting it through a realist lens. This stems from his inquisitive and active temperament. He once said:
“Curiosity and the desire to question everything were the main reasons I entered cinema. My mind has always been filled with countless questions for which I seek answers. These questions range from how and why cinema works to inquiries about human beings, family, and society. All these questions have driven me to explore the areas that spark my curiosity, and perhaps this search has guided me toward bringing cinema closer to the essence of life. In this effort, I’ve tried to look more closely at the hidden layers of family relationships and record, with my always-running camera, the truest possible version of what is unfolding before me.”
Thus, Davoodnezhad’s experimental impulse can be understood as an extension of his persistent spirit of inquiry—an impulse that sets him apart from many of his contemporaries. He has always centered life itself in his dramas, and to depict life, he tells stories through the relationships between people. He believes:
“When you’re trying to capture the flow of life unfolding in front of the camera, you must truly understand people and their relationships and carefully follow the processes that shape their dynamics. To bring life back into cinema, you have to pay deeper attention to life, notice people’s subtleties, and never let their interactions escape your lens. Only then do you have a chance at grasping relationships more profoundly and creating a space where life can happen before the camera and flow naturally.”
Davoodnezhad argues that personal and experimental cinema gains meaning alongside industrial, mainstream cinema, and that these two modes share a kind of kinship. He believes that lessons from independent filmmaking can be carried into cinema made for mass audiences—especially now that modern technology has empowered independent filmmakers to create films at minimal cost. This allows auteur directors to pursue new experiments and break free from the clichés that dominate commercial cinema. Mainstream cinema, constrained by financial risks and the demands of investors, tends to fall back on formulaic storytelling as a guarantee for ticket sales. In such an environment, risk-taking and experimentation become increasingly difficult.
The Cinema of Family and a Filmmaking Family
To talk about Davoodnezhad’s cinema is to speak both of “family cinema” and of a “cinematic family.” As film critic Nima Hassani-Nasab notes, the grief surrounding the loss of Reza Davoodnezhad shows how deeply Alireza had woven his own family into the fabric of other families. For Davoodnezhad, filmmaking became a space to bring his family together, essentially forming a small family-run film studio. A look at his films confirms this: his children, his mother (Ehtaram-ol-Sadat Habibian), and his younger brother (Mohammadreza Davoodnezhad) have all acted in his works.
He began his career as a screenwriter in the 1970s. Among his most celebrated films is Sweet Agony (Masaeb-e Shirin), made in the 1990s, which tells the story of a teenager named Reza who lives with his maternal grandmother and his father. Reza and his cousin Mona fall in love, causing concern among their families, who reprimand the two. Tensions rise, but a mutual friend invites both families to his villa to create space for honest conversation. Eventually, the families decide to abandon their strictness. Sweet Agony is considered the birth of a new mode in Iranian cinema: low-budget family filmmaking.
Another memorable work is Bad Kids (Bachehâ-ye Bad), featuring Reza and Zahra Davoodnezhad. The film generated considerable controversy. Its story follows Reza, who works as a taxi driver, as he reconnects with his former classmate Siavash. They take a trip to northern Iran, where they pick up a young woman named Roya, who has run away from home after family disputes and committing several murders. The film’s release was met with backlash, with critics at the time calling it a slide toward “sensationalism.”
Need (Niyaz) is another acclaimed work. It follows Ali, a teenager who becomes the breadwinner of his family after his father’s death. Ali begins working at a printing shop, where he meets another boy, Reza. Though they clash at first, the two gradually form an emotional bond. Need was nominated for five awards at the 10th Fajr Film Festival and won the Crystal Simorgh for Best Film.
Relief (Marham, 2010) centers on a young girl struggling with addiction who runs away from home, prompting her grandmother to follow her. Playwright and filmmaker Bahram Beyzai wrote to Davoodnezhad after watching the film:
“I’m grateful to have seen Marham thanks to you, and I feel so close to it that I can imagine myself sitting among its audience in Tehran. Now everyone knows you could always have made Marham, or even better, if only independent Iranian cinema had a bit more financial security. Creating Marham under such unequal conditions is a risk—one that you and every independent filmmaker take. There are many wounds in need of healing.”
The film portrays a family consumed by concerns over rising gold prices and inheritance disputes—problems that have eroded their intimacy and mutual respect.
Acting Class (Kelâs-e Honarpishegi, 2011) tells the story of a romantic triangle between a passionate but penniless young man and a wealthy suitor, both vying for the same woman. It features performances by Alireza, Reza, Mohammadreza, and Zahra Davoodnezhad, as well as Ehtaram-ol-Sadat Habibian, Kobra Hassanzadeh, and Pardis Ahmadieh.
Acting and Screenwriting Experience
At the End of the Night is not his first acting experience. He has previously appeared in Robin, Acting Class, Butterfly Swimming, and Two Days Later. Now, with decades of directing behind him, he portrays an Iranian father in At the End of the Night—a man who is at once angry and tender-hearted, compassionate yet bound to his traditions.
Beyond his own films, Davoodnezhad has contributed to the screenplays of Besieged, Mercenaries, Plunder, Tornado, The Bride, Touba, and A Girl in a Cage. He is currently the project supervisor for Bahram Beyzai’s latest feature film, We Are All Asleep. Nazanin, Shahreg, and Forbidden are his pre-revolution works. The first two were made in 1975 from screenplays co-written with Reza Atayi, and the third was written jointly with Iraj Matlabi in 1977. These films, while indebted to the popular themes of their era, highlighted Davoodnezhad’s distinctive vision—especially Nazanin, which remained memorable as a strikingly different work by a young filmmaker.
The Prize, co-written with Ebrahim Maki, was released in 1982. Featuring Ali Nassirian as a Ministry of Education employee who wins a small two-seater plane and travels to the city, the film evokes Nassirian’s signature portrayals of marginalized characters harmed by displacement. The man’s despair as he watches his dignity and that of his family fall apart represents a localized depiction of the painful consequences of migration and modernity.
Spider’s House (1983), co-written with Massoud Behnoud, brought together actors like Jamshid Mashayekhi, Ezzatollah Entezami, Davoud Rashidi, and Mohammadreza Davoodnezhad in a politically charged narrative—different from his other works and heavily influenced by the atmosphere of the time. Amid the turmoil following the failed Tabas military operation, four former regime affiliates hide in a villa, waiting for a coup that never comes. Suspicious and frightened, they turn on one another until all are destroyed.
Helpless (1986), based on his own screenplay, was directly influenced by the melodramas of the 1980s and featured powerful performances by Farimah Farjami and Abdolreza Akbari. It depicts a woman torn between her addicted ex-husband and her new husband, who is a member of the Islamic Committee. The film ultimately reinforces a positive, idealized portrait of the Committee officer played by Akbari.
Need (1991), co-written with Ali Akbar Ghazinezam, became an irreplaceable turning point in Davoodnezhad’s career. The film portrays with remarkable depth the relationship and rivalry of two teenagers competing for a printing shop job. Beneath its bitter social realism lies a careful depiction of the conditions that pit people against one another. The film also marked the professional debut of Shohreh Lorestani, who delivered a memorable performance.
Need won the Golden Butterfly and the Diploma of Honor for Best Film and Best Screenplay at the 7th Children and Youth Film Festival (1991), the Crystal Simorgh for Best Film at the 10th Fajr Film Festival (1991), and several awards—including jury prizes and cash awards for Best Film and Best Director—at the 1992 Nantes Three Continents Festival.
Disarmament (1994), from his own script, draws on modern Iranian history and the Reza Shah-era unveiling decree, depicting the emotional relationship between a women’s movement leader and a rural deputy governor. Mohammadreza Davoodnezhad again appears in the film, continuing his regular presence in his brother’s work.
Octopus (1995), co-written with Mohammad Afrideh and Esmail Rahimzadeh, is a romantic drama featuring a young, then-unknown pair—Bahareh Rahnama and Peyman Ghasemkhani—both of whom later became prominent figures in acting and screenwriting. Khosrow Shakibai, Soheila Razavi, and Mohammadreza Davoodnezhad also appear in this somber film. Its dark emotional entanglements were bold and fresh for their time. The plot revolves around the lustful pursuit of a wealthy man for Ghazal, the young fiancée of his steward. In one memorable scene, the man dangles Ghazal’s fiancé from a high-rise balcony—a moment made more shocking in an era when bigamy and love triangles had not yet become normalized in cinema or society.
Sweet Agony (1998), from Davoodnezhad’s own screenplay, stars several members of his family and portrays a teenage romance between a boy and a girl whose families’ heated reactions eventually soften through a mutual friend’s mediation.
Paradise Is Yours (2000), also written by Davoodnezhad, conveys the director’s call to return to nature and a simpler life, told through a lightly dramatic narrative. The film drew attention for featuring a young Mahtab Keramati—before she became widely known—alongside producer Ali Vajed-Samiei in a rare acting role. The music and songs of the film enhanced its overall impact.
Bad Kids (2000), co-written with his son Reza, is a youthful story about two old friends who encounter a mysterious young woman, leading them down an unpredictable path. The released version of the film owed much to Mostafa Kherghapoush’s cross-cutting style, which disrupted the linear structure and added new layers to the story. Featuring a young woman with a shaved head and no hijab, the film sparked significant controversy.
Meeting the Parrot (2003), written and directed by Davoodnezhad, is one of the most unusual entries in his filmography—a satirical, unconventional story populated by well-known actors such as Mohammadreza Foroutan, Mahtab Keramati, Mitra Hajjar, Marjan Shirmohammadi, Mahaya Petrosian, and Iraj Nozari. The film follows a bizarre plot involving conspiracy, execution, and abduction. The formation of women’s groups carrying out impulsive missions is among its curious elements—even though, beneath its layers of performative complexity, the film ultimately offers little substance.
The Other Woman (2005), written by Davoodnezhad, revisits the conflict between tradition and modernity through the issue of men taking second wives. The film presents a relatively fresh view of such relationships, and the presence of Reza Attaran infuses a distinctive comedic tone that sets this work apart from Davoodnezhad’s two preceding films.
Cinema of Hope
Another defining feature of Davoodnezhad’s cinema is the prominence of hope. His films often depict a bitter, troubled society, yet they ultimately instill a sense of optimism in the viewer—without ever slipping into didacticism. This sense of hope is also deeply rooted in his personal life: he believes life is inherently sweet, and that it is we who embitter it through excessive tendencies. A filmmaker committed to representing life on screen cannot help but speak of hope, for human beings—and their stories—survive by hope.
“I have always tried to bring cinema closer to life, and I believe I have done that more successfully in this film,” he says. For Davoodnezhad, cinema as an art form is tied to a fundamental human capacity: the ability to step back from reality, frame it, and examine it from a distance—just as we distinguish sound, rhythm, and harmony, or as art throughout history has evolved through music, poetry, visual arts, ritual literature, storytelling, performance, and theater before reaching its culmination in cinema.
In his career, Davoodnezhad has depicted both the sweet agonies of life and, now, the deepest sorrow of his own. Time will tell how he will portray life if he has the opportunity and strength to keep making films. But even now, he stands as a filmmaker who, over a lifetime of experience, has brought audiences face-to-face with life itself—its mysteries, its struggles, and its inexhaustible hope.