After the revolution, Iranian women couldn’t leave the house with their heads uncovered. Freedom of religion disappeared. Even dog owners had to keep their beloved pets secretly hidden. Yet, too many pseudo-intellectuals maintain a see-no-evil policy towards Iran. Okay, try this one on for size hipsters. The Revolutionary government made film ownership illegal. The prohibition even included home movies. Ehsan Khoshbakht knew it only too well. He managed an underground student screening society and befriended the owner of the largest private film collections in Iran at the time. Khoshbakht explains why he and Ahmad Jorghahnian risked arrest and possibly far worse for the sake of film in his autobiographical documentary Celluloid Underground, which premieres today on OVID.tv.
Frankly, Khoshbakht never really thought of himself as a rebel, until an audience member at a screening accused him of anti-social behavior. It was a chilling moment, inspiring greater caution going forward. Yet, he couldn’t help wondering about of Jorghahnian’s rumored archive. By the time they met, the collector was even warier, but eventually he started loaning prints for Khoshbakht’s screenings.
Indeed, it was quite a collection, including masterworks of both America, Soviet, and pre-Revoluionary Iranian cinema, as well as more eccentric selections, like a 2D print of the 3D B-movie Bwana Bully. Jorghahnian essentially acquired what he could, regardless of title. For instance, he made a deal with the technicians in charge of destroying confiscated films, giving them junk reels (and presumably a little “consideration”) in exchange for the forbidden films.
Celluloid Underground is a fascinating story, but some of the waxing poetic over the power of cinema grows repetitive. Nevertheless, it vividly illustrates the regime’s hostility to free expression. Recommended for admirers of Iranian cinema and advocates for Iranian human rights, Celluloid Underground now streams on OVID.tv.

