Babek Aliassa, an Iranian filmmaker who has lived most of his life abroad, presents his second feature film “Bassima’s Womb” at this year’s Fajr International Film Festival, screening in The Broken Olive section. The film follows a young undocumented Syrian woman who becomes a surrogate mother to bring her deported husband back to Canada, only to discover she is already pregnant and must sacrifice her own child. With a background in architecture, set design, and years spent between France, Belarus, and North America, Aliassa speaks about migration, poetic cinema, and his wish to reconnect with Iranian audiences.
What is the main theme of “Bassima’s Womb”?
The central theme is migration and the difficulty of taking root in a foreign country. Many people assume migration is easy, but it is actually extremely challenging, and one always needs the help of others. The film follows a Syrian woman who is first exploited but eventually finds someone who truly supports her. The message is that we cannot achieve much alone; we need genuine human support to survive.
Can we say the film is filled with moral metaphors about migration and surrogate motherhood?
Exactly. I wanted to show that when genuine, humane help is offered, everything becomes possible and liberated.
“Bassima’s Womb” is your second feature film. In which country was it made?
Yes, it is my second feature film, and it was entirely produced abroad. I have spent most of my life in France, as well as five years in Belarus, and one year each in New York, Toronto, and Montreal.
Where exactly did your cinematic journey begin?
I lived in France from childhood and completed my high school diploma at the Razi School in France. I started learning Persian around the age of 12. I was in Iran between the ages of 12 and 18, but six months after the Revolution, because of my studies at the Razi School, my parents sent me back to France. I first studied engineering, but five years later, after watching a film by Renoir in the cinema, I realized I might be able to design film sets. I then enrolled in the renowned FEMIS film school in Paris, studied set design for three years, and spent one year as an exchange student in the United States. After returning to France, I worked in cinema and theater through set design.
What made you move from set design to screenwriting and directing?
Reading a book on screenwriting completely changed my path. Before that, I had no idea screenwriting was such a structured and rule-based craft. I began writing and realized how natural and enjoyable it felt. I wrote one screenplay after another until, while teaching French in Toronto, a producer saw one of my short films and offered me the opportunity to direct a documentary about a woman undergoing a lung transplant. From there, my projects gradually expanded.
You entered cinema through architecture and set design, yet our festival theme is “poetic cinema.” Where does the poetic quality in your work come from?
I am deeply drawn to symbolism and metaphor, and I love connecting objects and ideas. Metaphor is inherently linked to cinema. These connections affect me more than anything else, and the poetic quality in my work emerges naturally.
What motivated you to submit this film to the Fajr Film Festival?
Deep down, I am still Iranian, and I was eager to re-establish a connection. Before Fajr, the film had already screened at several festivals, including in India, but being accepted into Fajr was unexpected and truly heartwarming. I hoped Iranian audiences would watch the film and share their thoughts.
Is this your first time in Shiraz?
Yes, this is my first visit to Shiraz. My father was a doctor and my mother a nurse, so we did not travel much. My last trip to Iran was in 2017. I am extremely happy to be here now, and I see everything in a positive light.
What is your next project?
My next project is based on Sadegh Hedayat’s short story “The Doll Behind the Curtain,” which deeply affected me when I read it at age 16. I have finished the screenplay and submitted it for funding. I see this festival as an open door to strengthening my ties with my compatriots.
