‘Reading Lolita in Tehran’ Review: Intimate Adaption of Azar Nafisi’s Memoir Is Inherently Feminine and Political

Across “Lemon Tree,” “The Syrian Bride” and “Shelter,” Israeli filmmaker Eran Riklis has built a sturdy body of work, telling defiant stories of Middle Eastern women from different walks of life. With “Reading Lolita in Tehran” — a moving adaptation of Iranian-American author and professor Azar Nafisi’s memoir — he adds an understated, yet generally absorbing and similarly minded entry to his oeuvre, warmly transposing Nafisi’s experience in the post-revolution Iran onto the screen with sensitivity.

Unfolding in episodic segments and significant jumps in time that sometimes feel too abrupt, the screenplay by Marjorie David follows Nafisi (an expressive Golshifteh Farahani) across a 24-year period, after the young academic holding a fresh American degree settles in Tehran with her husband Bijan (Arash Marandi) in 1979, on the heels of the country’s Islamic Revolution. A title card at the start contextualizes the couple’s return to their homeland. Historically, it was a time of hope in Iran, with many Iranians residing abroad going back to their country on false promises.

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One such promise puts Nafisi at a prestigious university in the capital city initially, where she teaches literature and Western classics such as “Huckleberry Finn,” “The Great Gatsby,” “Pride and Prejudice” and “Lolita” to co-ed classes that would soon be segregated. (Some of these books also double as titles for the film’s chapters.) At first, only a few of the women we see in the streets or classes wear hijabs (traditional Islamic garbs) or headscarves. But along with Nafisi and the other women of her classroom, we sense a conservative change in the air when men start talking about the ways a woman should dress in increasingly entitled language. “One day, it will be the law,” one male student says in front of several rightfully angry but stunned-to-silence women.

Still, Nafisi continues with her classes, getting her open-minded students (which include men) to debate the moral dilemmas at the heart of her selected literary works. But it doesn’t take long for the religious right to take it to the streets and interfere with the integrity of her syllabus. “Purify the curriculum,” some signs at the university read, attacking the freedoms of secular women who choose to dress the way they always had. To a male security guard blocking her way due to her uncovered head, Nafisi says, “My grandmother was the most devout Muslim I knew. She never missed a prayer. But she wore her scarf because she was devout, not because she was a symbol.” Clearly derived from a vivid memory, this scene is among the strongest of “Reading Lolita in Tehran,” one that rang true to this secular Muslim critic who’s also witnessed (and engaged in) various similar debates about the pressures women face in societies where Muslims from different backgrounds and with varying viewpoints on the expression of their faith live side by side.

Some other scenes feel more ham-fisted in the way they overpronounce the themes of the film. Among them is a deliberation when the female students compare the oppressive streets of Iran to the abusive Humbert character of “Lolita,” an all-too-obvious reference that feels redundant considering the overarching theme of the story. Others occur when the timeline suddenly shifts from the ’80s to the mid-’90s, with not much visible change in the costumes or hairstyles. Still, Riklis fashions a number of memorable and intimate sequences between Nafisi and her female students, when Nafisi quits her job at the university and decides to teach literature in secret to a group of inquisitive women. The impressive supporting cast includes Mina Kavani (“No Bears”) as Nassrin and Zar Amir Ebrahimi (“Holy Spider”) as Sanaz.

Outside, they endure patriarchy, misogyny and even physical violence — a scene that traces Sanaz’s doctor visit and the grotesque violence she gets subjected to is especially painful. But in the safety of Nafisi’s home, and accompanied by gorgeous spreads of fruits and pastries (all captured through Hélène Louvart’s poetic lens), the women tap into their deepest thoughts through literature, discuss their hardships, sing and dance, and debate liberating ideas, even sex.

Elsewhere, Riklis portrays the normalcy of Nafisi’s everyday life and the common occurrences of suppression that she’s grown accustomed to. (In that, we get a taste of what it’s like to watch a heavily censored version of Andrei Tarkovsky’s “The Sacrifice”.) The story also introduces us to Nafisi’s friendship with a mystery man (Shahbaz Noshir), a fellow intellectual she meets while running away from a street protest whom she adds to her circle as a mentor. Riklis attentively charts the trajectory of the duo’s rich emotional connection and rapport, not shying away from hinting at some sexual tension between the two.

 Not unlike “Shayda,” “The Seed of the Sacred Fig” and other recent films about the varied experiences of Iranian women around the world, “Reading Lolita in Tehran” is an inherently political movie when considered in the real-life context of the 22-year-old Mahsa Amini’s death in 2022. Amini was reportedly beaten in police custody for not wearing her headscarf as mandated, a murder that sparked fierce protests across both Iran and the rest of the world. In a pair of scenes, Riklis defiantly reminds the viewer of Amini when Farahani looks in the mirror, puts on a headscarf and then removes it. Ending with Nafisi’s move back to America in the early aughts (because she refuses to raise her children in a despotic environment), Riklis’ adaptation doesn’t always culminate in the grand emotions that Nafisi’s tale is made of. But it still lands as a respectable, aptly rebellious and deeply feminine exercise.