RedCut’s Conversation with Sonia Sanjari About Her Short Film “A Long Walk”.

RedCut: How did it happen that, as an actor whose individual creativity—physical and formal—was shaped in front of the camera based on the filmmaker’s vision, you decided to step behind the camera and become the narrator of your own mental story?

Sonia Sanjari: Some images never leave the mind unless they take an external, visible form. For me, it started from there—from scattered images that held special meanings for me and kept recurring, until they found their way into my dreams. The first scene of the film is a complete reconstruction of one of my dreams. I felt that I needed to speak more loudly and clearly about these images—things I had lived through in one way or another, which had emerged from conscious experiences into my unconscious. For me, cinema was the best medium to talk about these images.

RedCut: The short film’s idea, and this surrealistic perspective that blurred the boundaries of reality and perception, taking us from a fixed mental and physical state to an imagination beyond what we see and hear, led to a dynamic mental journey. The film, which begins with a symbolic death and emphasizes the firefly, ends in a circular manner with countless fireflies. How did the idea of the film and this style of storytelling come to your mind, and how did it develop?

Sonia Sanjari: Surrealism probably entered the film through my dreams. But these dreams have deep roots in my personal life and experiences. The entire concept of the film is my lived experience over the past few years. You lose something precious, and for days, you think you can’t bear the weight of such a heavy loss. But time passes, wounds heal, and you return to the starting point. No matter how many times this cycle repeats, it still feels fresh, and every time, it can feel like the first time.

RedCut: In the film, we encounter insecurity, the trauma of wounds, and death. A body dies, yet a voice continues to live. In the middle of the film, we meet a man and a woman—the man tries to invite the woman to the house to join in a collective game, and the dialogue is written with historically symbolic, patriarchal phrases. How did the conversation between the man and woman take shape?

Sonia Sanjari: Since we were two writers (a woman and a man), we tried to develop the dialogue based on our own mental realities rather than focusing on symbolic or patriarchal perspectives. Each of us, drawing from our personal experiences in such situations, made suggestions for the dialogue. The conceptual subtext was likely infused into the script from our unconscious and from the lived experiences of each of us.

RedCut: The emphasis on the wound on the woman’s face, and the reminder of a trauma where we don’t fully know how life, following the release of death, continued with resistance in the woman’s body, was portrayed through close-up shots of her face. The focus on the wound and the precise use of the objects surrounding the woman shifted the narrative from a realistic storytelling mode to a complex, abstract depiction of the body’s wounds. We are confronted with a woman who is alone, injured, and in a body that has suffered an accident. What led to the decision to kill off the male character and continue with the female character and her wounds? How did it come about that the man was killed at the start of the story, and the woman continued with her wounds, giving hope to another man in the form of countless distant fireflies?

Sonia Sanjari

Sonia Sanjari: Since this story is very personal and based on my traumas, I couldn’t imagine it any other way. For me, this story can only be told from a woman’s perspective. That’s why the woman had to stay, and the man had to go. Since every event leaves a scar on our psyche, I thought it would be a good idea to externalize these wounds, and witnessing their healing process felt therapeutic for me. No matter how deep the wounds are, they eventually heal, and you learn to live with their marks on your body and mind. Looking at or touching them is no longer painful—they become part of you, and sometimes you even grow fond of them.

RedCut: Another important theme in the film was the concept of security and home. Now, this home could be our body. In the film, we see a house where a celebration is taking place, but we only hear the sounds and imagine our own home. In the film, there’s no visible house, but there’s a home, from which the woman refuses the man’s invitation to join in the game. Instead, under a tree in the darkness of nature, she shows us the light of the fireflies. The house, as a concept of security, warmth, and a place of belonging, is absent from the film. It’s as if we all died with the man at the beginning of the film and entered into an illusion of existence inside an unsafe body and home. How did the idea of home and insecurity manifest in this film, where the woman refuses to go into the house, and the only things we see are death, wounds, nature, and fireflies?

Sonia Sanjari: The woman refuses to join the group. She’s anxious about seeing her new self among the old gathering. She never expects to see the fireflies there. She envisions a difficult and winding path to find something valuable. But after seeing the fireflies, who are actually the guests at the party, she enters a new game—a game she believes she doesn’t know the rules of. However, the man reassures her that she will learn very quickly because, although this game appears new, we all know that life’s games have always existed and will continue.

RedCut: Are you working on a new film? Can you tell us a little about it?

Sonia Sanjari: After the recent events in Iran, the situation for female actors has undergone significant changes. Some have turned away from these events and continued their work as before. Others made the difficult and brave decision to leave their beloved profession. A third group, which I consider myself part of, decided to create a new path for themselves. The film I recently shot, which is now in post-production, tells the story of this third group of actors. In it, I’ve tried to convey my personal space and experiences related to these events.

 

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