The Queen and I (Drottningen och jag)

When I was growing up in Iran, we had a king and queen.

My first memory of them is their coronation ceremony

which was broadcast on television.

At the time, we had difficulty making enough money.

Dad was very sick, and Mom wove rugs 15 hours a day

to provide food for the family.

I thought it was amazing to have a queen who lived such a fabulous life.

That a fairy tale could be true.

But as I got older, my childish astonishment was overshadowed

by stories of oppression and torture.

I joined the revolutionary movement

which forced the Shah and the queen into exile.

You mocked our country with your movie!

You will be imprisoned, maybe executed.

She makes an anti-Muslim film, and dares return!

-My film is not anti-Muslim. -Shut up!

-Are you a Mujahedin? Communist? -No.

Then you are a royalist and shah lover!

As my previous film was critical of the regime, I was arrested at the airport.

I can't help thinking about being called a shah lover.

After horrible interrogations and two months house arrest, they let me go.

But first they forced me to sign a document

to never make another film about Iran.

Now, in Sweden

I keep thinking about having been branded a royalist.

These thoughts lead to this film.

I want to find out what the queen of Iran and her family went through in exile.

One year after leaving Iran, the shah died.

Most of the 30 years since then, Farah has lived in Paris.

She still has some quality that captivates me.

After four months of phone calls, e-mails and faxes

I get an answer.

Hello, this is Farah Pahlavi.

Hello! I've been waiting a long time for this call.

Sorry that it took a while, but I've been very busy.

I have received your letters that you want to make a film.

I'll be happy to meet you

to discuss in greater detail

what your film is about.

I arrive in Paris feeling conflicted. She used to be the one we fought against.

How will my friends who suffered under the shah feel about this?

If he'd allowed us freedom of speech, the revolution wouldn't have been necessary.

We could all have lived in peace in our Iran.

I am uncomfortable being here.

I don't fit in.

And now she's making me wait.

If it weren't for the film, I would leave.

Good day. How are you?

-How are you? -Well, thank you.

I want to start by asking how you want to be titled.

I'm usually called Your Majesty.

I was queen of Iran for 20 years.

Unfortunately we had to go into exile due to the revolution.

Now, sadly, I have lived in exile for 29 years.

Can you tell us about the last days before the revolution?

Towards the end we heard people shouting "Allah is great" from the rooftops.

When we left the city so that the children could get fresh air

we saw "Long live Khomeini" painted on the house walls.

The children heard shouting from out on the street

while playing in the castle garden. They looked out and wondered what was going on.

We tried to comfort them by saying that this is how it is sometimes.

But we could not devote ourselves to them as much as we wanted

because it was a terrible time for us.

We could not do anything about how the country changed.

Brothers! Replace your bullets with flowers!

In the end, the shah felt that it was better for the country if we left.

It was painful to feel that maybe it was for the best.

We left our country and all that was dear and important to us.

We left everything, and went into an uncertain future.

Thank Khomeini that the shah is gone!

When the shah left Iran in 1979, I was out celebrating.

I was part of a Communist group

and thought Iran would have freedom and democracy…

…as long as the monarchy fell.

Ayatollah Khomeini became the leader of the revolution.

He promised us a democracy where every political group would be heard.

Freedom for all!

But soon, every voice that questioned him and the Iranian clergy was silenced.

And then the mass executions began.

My brother was one of those who was hanged, only 17 years old.

-Do you always have a bodyguard? -Yes, always.

The French state is helping me with them.

A few years ago, someone called the manager of my apartment building

and said: " La Farah - on l'aura "

"We'll get rid of Farah."

So I'm as careful as I can be.

-What is your schedule like tomorrow? -We can't film, I'm at the hairdresser.

-Why aren't we allowed to film there? -It would not add anything.

For people who come from the same background as me

it is important to be able to see your simplicity. We can always edit it out.

-Once you've shot it, it's still there. -That's not the case, my dear!

What are you thinking about?

-Hello? -Hello, how are you?

We're going to the cemetery tomorrow.

I will ask the driver to pick you up first and then me.

-Very good. And the hairdresser? -No, forget that.

-I want to show your everyday life. -No.

I still have some followers

and I don't want their image of me to be ruined.

We are meeting at her daughter's grave.

Leila was Farah's youngest child and died young, like my brother.

Here it is.

Film her. Here's Farah now.

"Go home", he says.

The scene you were filming with Her Majesty has been canceled.

-Why? -That was her decision.

I'm talking to Atabay, Farah's secretary.

He's found out about my leftist background, and wonders what I'm doing.

Her Majesty can ask me to stop filming whenever she wishes.

I would never portray her negatively. What would I gain from that?

Damn it.

As a communist, did you belong to the Tudeh party?

-No, not Tudeh. -Then what? Fadaei?

-People's Majority? Minority Party? -No, no…

-The Workers' Party? -No.

I couldn't sleep last night. It's probably best that we end this.

Certainly.

It feels like I've been in an interrogation - like in Iran.

As soon as you don't agree with them ideologically, they shut you out.

-What are you doing, Mom? -Making a trailer for the Farah movie.

So that she can see that it does not portray her negatively.

-Do you want to see? -Yes.

What are you thinking about?

I'm thinking about what it's like in Iran now.

Though I am at home here this isn't my country.

People here have a proud attitude

because they belong to a country

and are part of the system, of society.

But we have nothing. It's as if we are passing through, like tourists.

Yesterday, Farah called and said that she liked the trailer I sent

and that we can start filming again.

I must not miss this chance. Last time, I pushed her too hard.

I don't want to be sent home again.

-Hello? -Hello. How are you doing?

I thought we could continue with the interview.

-Show me as I am working. -Good. Then you have decided.

-Hello. How are you doing? -I am good, thank you.

Now I would like to interview you. Who are you?

-Who do you think I am? -I only know what you said before.

You were against the monarchy in your youth.

But did you belong to Fadaei, Tudeh, Mujahedin…?

-I belonged to a small Communist group. -What did they promise?

-We handed out flyers… -What did they say?

They said where to go for the day's activities.

For example, to set fire to cars. Then we would go there.

-How old were you then? -Seventeen.

What happened later, when Khomeini came to power?

It was said that Khomeini commanded all girls to wear the veil.

We thought it was a joke, but it turned out to be true.

Everyone who was against your regime became an opponent of the new one.

The underground resistance began against Khomeini.

We were young and did not realize how dangerous it was.

One night they came and grabbed my brothers, who were 15 and 17 years old.

After six months, they were sentenced to death.

My father begged on his knees

that he would pay if they spared them.

They said, "Give us 4 million toman so we don't kill them."

While he was trying to get the money, we were told that one had been executed.

It's so painful, because what happened in Iran then

still affects our countrymen to this day.

Regimes, they come and go

but a new regime should be better

or at least not this bad. That's the most painful thing.

I wonder if she understands that I wasn't completely honest

when she asked why I joined the revolution.

I said that I was young, and didn't know what I was doing.

Of course I knew what I was doing.

They were close to executing a young man for drinking alcohol.

-Imagine! Fortunately, he was pardoned. -Good. With them anything can happen.

I don't dare to ask about those who were executed during the shah's reign.

I don't want to endanger the film.

So I continue, without saying anything about that, and let things play out.

Here it is.

I get to join Farah at some galleries showing Iranian artists.

What does this cost?

It costs about 18,000 euros.

-No, 9 000 each chair. -They are worth it.

So beautiful.

Those are also very nice, the floor lamps there.

-It is so beautiful. -Really.

-And the price? -10 000 euros.

They are available in twelve copies. They have only made twelve.

10,000 euros.

Make a good film

so you can buy the chairs and the lamp.

If your film is successful…

And is interesting…

…then I'll get rich! Then I can buy the chairs and the lamp.

So many pictures of Your Majesty… You always seem to have been in his life.

Yes, now more than ever.

For the Iranian Children's Fund, as I mentioned.

I've asked some artists to donate works

to be auctioned off, and Ghass gives us a painting.

-I like this one. -Me too.

This one, Ghass!

I love the smell of oil paint.

-And of gasoline, you said earlier. -Yes, because it reminds me of home.

The smell of gasoline reminds me of Iran too.

That night when we were going to be smuggled across the gulf to Dubai

after months on the run.