Mohsen Jasour

Mohsen Jasour’s filmography is a bit of a wild ride, honestly. For starters, Shekare Halazoon (2024) doesn’t exactly hold your hand. It throws you straight into this world that feels half-familiar, half-nightmare, and lets you piece it together yourself. There’s this rawness to the way Jasour directs—he’s not here to make you comfortable. Instead, he sort of dares you to follow along as the story spirals from what looks like a simple hunt (the title literally means “snail hunting,” but don’t take that at face value) into something way more tangled. Relationships fray, secrets crawl out, and by the time credits roll, you’re left wondering what you just watched and why you’re still thinking about it. Then there’s Fereshtegan-e ghassab (2013). This one’s darker—like, really dark. The film dives deep into human morality, and you can just tell Jasour isn’t afraid to poke at the ugliest bits of people. He crafts these characters who should be unlikable but somehow, you end up rooting for them (or at least understanding them). The pacing’s sharp, and the cinematography? Gritty as hell. It’s the kind of movie that leaves you a little uneasy, but in a good way. Unfinished Lights (2017) is different. It’s quieter, more introspective, almost poetic in places. Jasour’s style shifts—it’s still him, but softer around the edges. The film lingers on moments, letting silence do the heavy lifting, and draws you into the characters’ private struggles. It’s not flashy, but it sticks with you. Jasour’s work? Never boring.