Figure 1: Poster of the film A House Built on Water (Khānah-ʾī rūy-i āb), directed by Bahman Farmān-Ārā, 2002.

Introduction: The Portrayal of a Type

In exploring modern Iranian literature and cinema, one can see that in many cases, the character of “medical doctor” has been used to encapsulate the characteristics of the affluent, self-confident class that arose from the modernization process of Iran in the early and mid-twentieth century and created a contract with the traditional lifestyle and values of the powerful clergy.

The modernization process in Iran began in the mid and late 1800s and was strengthened by the establishment of modern educational institutions.¹Vahid Rashidvash, “Qajar rule in Iran: in the Qajar government events that changed the fate of Iran,” Research Journal of Humanities and Social Sciences 2, no. 2 (2011), 11-12. In 1925, a new dynasty, Pahlavī, seized power in Iran. During that time, modernization became a governmental agenda and continued at a fast pace.²James A Bill, “Modernization and reform from above: The case of Iran,” The journal of politics 32, no. 1 (1970). During that time, the establishment of Tehran University and other universities, sending many students to study in Western countries and employing them in high-ranked governmental positions upon their return, noteworthy improvements in women’s rights and their participation in social life, and many other initiatives, led and supported by the government, changed the face of the country.³Ervand Abrahamian, “Structural causes of the Iranian Revolution,” Merip Reports, no. 87 (1980). The newly educated and modernized classes of society, including physicians, adopted Western norms and lifestyles. All these changes were fervently opposed by the traditional sectors of society led by the Islamic clergies who played a central role in the 1979 Revolution.⁴Ahmad Ashraf and Ali Banuazizi, “The state, classes and modes of mobilization in the Iranian revolution,” State, Culture, and Society 1, no. 3 (1985). The revolution ended the rule of the Pahlavī dynasty and established the Islamic Republic in Iran.⁵Said Amir Arjomand, The Turban for the Crown: The Islamic Revolution in Iran (Oxford University Press, 1988), 103-133.

For instance, the leader of the 1979 Islamic Revolution in Iran was also an avid critic of the university-graduated elites. For instance, he once said: “…Universities are more dangerous than cluster munition!” and “… all the corruptions are rooted in universities.⁶Rūhallāh Khumaynī, “Dānishgāh va khatar-i bumb-i khushah-ʾī,” Dalil, accessed March 31, 2025, https://dalil.khomeini.ir/امام-خمینی-خطر-دانشگاه-از-بمب-خوشهای/.” Because of this attitude toward the institution of modern education, he launched a “cultural revolution” through which the universities were forced to close from 1980 to 1983. During that period, many professors were expelled, the textbooks were reviewed and revised, and new rules and regulations were established with the purpose of Islamization of universities.⁷Reza Razavi, “The cultural revolution in Iran, with close regard to the universities, and its impact on the student movement,” Middle Eastern Studies 45, no. 1 (2009). It goes without saying that medical doctors, as a group of university graduates with a strong influence on people and their lifestyle choices, were at the center of angst and attention of the new rulers after the Islamic Revolution.

As another example, the cleric ‛Abdalkarīm Hāshimīnizhād (one of the influential figures in the Islamic Revolution of 1979) wrote a book in the 1970s containing an imaginary debate between a person who does not believe in Islamic teachings named “the doctor” and a wise person who defends them, called “the old man.”⁸Abdalkarīm Hāshimīnizhād, Munāzarah Ductur va Pīr (Tehran: Nashr-e-Shahed, 2002).

Iranian cinema was heavily influenced by the abovementioned attitudes.⁹Hassan Mohaddesi Ghilevaaeii, “Ideological Cinema in Iran,” in Cinema Iranica (Encyclopaedia Iranica Foundation, 2025). https://cinema.iranicaonline.org/article/ideological-cinema-in-iran/; Saeed Zeydabadi-Nejad, “Iranian intellectuals and contact with the West: the case of Iranian cinema,” British Journal of Middle Eastern Studies 34, no. 3 (2007); Sayyid Muhammad Mahdīzādah and ʿAbd al-Rizā Zandī, “Bāznamāyī-i arzish-hā-yi ijtimāʿī-i zan dar sīnimā-yi baʿd az inqilāb: Muqāyisah-yi du dawrah-yi islāh-talabī va usūlgarāʾī,” Majalah-yi Jahānī-i Rasānah 8, no. 1 (2013). The examples are numerous. Over the past decades, medical doctors have frequently been central characters in Iranian cinema, often portrayed as affluent and influential figures indifferent to the plight of their impoverished patients. In addition, their personal lives are portrayed as chaotic and dysfunctional due to adopting modern norms, in contrast with traditional lifestyles that are portrayed as full of love and mutual understanding.

For instance, in ‛Alī Hātamī’s Mother (Mādar, 1991), one of the characters, played by Amīn Tārukh, is a physician whose modern and chaotic life creates a contrast with the traditional and peaceful lifestyle of the carpenter, played by Hamīd Jibilī. The doctor and his wife work day and night shifts in a rhythm that means they cannot see each other in person. As a result, they communicate by recording tapes so the other one can listen to them when they get home. At the same time, the carpenter leads a life full of love and passion with his wife. The doctor and his wife do not have any children and live in an apartment, while the carpenter, who lives in a traditional home, has a happy family.

Figure 2 (left): Poster of the film Mother (Mādar), directed by ‛Alī Hātamī, 1989.
Figure 3 (right): A still featuring Amīn Tārukh from the film Mother (Mādar), directed by ‛Alī Hātamī, 1989. Accessed via https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_k8RzGNRd28 (00:30:21).

In Hāmūn (1989), the masterpiece of Dāryūsh Mihrjū’ī, two psychiatrists play destructive roles in the protagonist’s life. They are depicted as arrogant and greedy figures who have hidden ties to the affluent family of Mahshīd, Hāmūn’s wife, who wants a divorce. The doctors participate in a plot to help the family facilitate the divorce process. They are part of a circle of wealth and power whose members include Mahshīd’s wealthy parents, a mass construction contractor who issues hefty checks to buy Mahshīd’s paintings and wants to marry her after her divorce, a lawyer who represents Hāmūn in the divorce court but in fact works for Mahshīd’s family, and the arrogant and greedy psychiatrists. Hāmūn is a true lover of his wife with authentic ideas about life and love who criticizes modernity (for instance, during a conversation with his colleague, he belittles the advances in southeast Asian countries by saying they are like ants and cockroaches trapped in the swamp of technology) and follows a traditional spiritual figure named ‛Alī ‛Abidīnī.¹⁰Morteza Yazdanjoo and Fazel Asadi Amjad, “Performing the poetics of the Iranian dream on silver screen: Hamoun as a tale of spiritual rebirth,” Textual Practice 38, no. 4 (2024); Ilīkā Āshja‛ī and Habīb Allāh ʿAbbāsī, “Āyīn-i tasavvuf; matn-i pinhān-i fīlm-i Hāmūn,” Pazhūhishnāmah-ʾi farhang va adabiyāt-i āyīnī 1, no. 1 (2022).

Figure 4 (left): Poster of the film Hāmūn. directed by Dāryūsh Mihrjū’ī, 1989.
Figure 5 (right): The doctor is trying to convince Hāmūn to divorce Mahshīd, a still from the film Hāmūn, directed by Dāryūsh Mihrjū’ī, 1989. Accessed via https://www.youtube.com/watch?app=desktop&v=hlqbgun7A_M (00:38:26).

In So Far, So Close (Khaylī dūr, khaylī nazdīk, 2005), directed by Rizā Mīrkarīmī, an arrogant brain surgeon tries to save his son’s life and is nearly buried in the sands of the desert, a symbol of the smallness of human power and life in the hands of God of nature. After losing hope in his powerful car, the doctor is saved by his son, who breaks the glass ceiling of the car and extends his hand toward his father at the end of the movie, showing that the self-confidence and arrogance of the doctor lead him nowhere while those who lead a simple life become his saviors. In this movie, the doctor does not believe in God, while his saviors are avid believers. The brain surgeon has a Mercedes, which is considered an incredibly luxurious car in Iran. Driving a Mercedes is a symbol of the doctor’s affluence and prestige—which is shattered when the savior’s hand breaks the glass ceiling of the car to save him from the sands.

Figure 6 (left): Poster of the film So Far, So Close (Khaylī dūr, khaylī nazdīk), directed by Rizā Mīrkarīmī, 2005.
Figure 7 (right): The doctor is stuck in his car, buried in the desert sands. A still from the film So Far, So Close (Khaylī dūr, khaylī nazdīk), directed by Rizā Mīrkarīmī, 2005. Accessed via https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qZcOpzhczy0 (01:42:55).

In Vahīd Jalīlvand’s No Date, No Signature (Bidūn-i tārīkh, bidūn-i imzāʾ, 2017) a forensic medicine doctor accidentally hits a family riding a motorcycle while driving home from his workplace. The next day, he finds himself responsible for dissecting and diagnosing the cause of death of the family’s little boy, who was brought to the forensic medicine department the previous night. He can manipulate the report to save himself from the legal consequences of the accident. The movie depicts his struggle to avoid such an abuse of power.

The exceptions to the characterizations discussed above are movies that depict the events of the Iran-Iraq War, as they belong to a genre referred to as “the sacred defense cinema” by governmental officials.¹¹Niki Akhavan, “Sacred Defense Cinema: From Defense to Intervention,” in Cinema Iranica (Encyclopaedia Iranica Foundation, 2025). https://cinema.iranicaonline.org/article/from-defense-to-intervention-the-iran-iraq-war-on-screen-and-the-evolution-of-sacred-defense-cinema/#citation. In this cinema, the characters who belong to the “right” front are portrayed as flawless and superhuman in nearly all cases. The doctors are no exception. In these movies, the doctors are extraordinarily selfless and passionate. They sacrifice everything and go the extra mile to serve their patients.

Figure 8 (left): Poster of the film No Date, No Signature (Bidūn-i tārīkh, bidūn-i imzāʾ), directed by Vahīd Jalīlvand, 2017.
Figure 9 (right): A still from the film No Date, No Signature (Bidūn-i tārīkh, bidūn-i imzāʾ), directed by Vahīd Jalīlvand, 2017. Accessed via  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K8Vbwmcr2RU (00:20:31).

For instance, in Kīmiyā (1995), directed by Ahmad Rizā Darvīsh, a female surgeon, played by Bītā Farrahī, endangers herself to save the life of a newborn whom she subsequently adopts and raises. This film depicts the extraordinary conditions of the work of medical teams during the war and the enormous risk they took to provide medical care to military and civilian patients. At the same time, based on the written and unwritten mandates for this genre in Iranian cinema, the ones involved in the Iranian front are portrayed as almost superhumans.¹²Niki Akhavan, “Sacred Defense Cinema: From Defense to Intervention,” in Cinema Iranica (Encyclopaedia Iranica Foundation, 2025). https://cinema.iranicaonline.org/article/from-defense-to-intervention-the-iran-iraq-war-on-screen-and-the-evolution-of-sacred-defense-cinema/#citation.

There are other exceptions in which a kind and compassionate doctor is portrayed. For instance, in ‛Abdalhasan Dāvūdī’s The Rain Man (Mard-i bārānī, 2000), a medical doctor spends all his time and energy finding a cure for his cancer patients. The protagonist, Dr. Bārānī (which means “rainy” in Persian), has a chaotic family life. Even so, instead of being a selfish and arrogant figure, he is a selfless and compassionate doctor and researcher. He is also depicted as a victim of the revolution because he was expelled from the university. This movie (similar to many others that challenge the clichés of post-revolutionary cinema) was produced and released during a temporary period of reforms under the presidency of Sayyid Muhammad Khātamī from 1997 to 2005.

Figure 10 (left): Poster of the film Kīmiyā, directed by Ahmad Rizā Darvīsh, 1995.
‌Figure 11 (right): A still featuring Bītā Farrahī from the film Kīmiyā, directed by Ahmad Rizā Darvīsh, 1995. Accessed via https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GpKNxx32fBs (00:20:31).

A House Built on Water

As is clear in the examples above, doctors in post-revolutionary Iranian cinema have typically been portrayed as greedy and arrogant elites with modern lifestyles and chaotic family lives. Bahman Farmān-Ārā’s film, A House Built on Water (Khānah-ʾī rūy-i āb, 2002) does little to break this mold. By portraying the professional and personal life of a doctor with the aforementioned characteristics, this film explores medical doctors’ moral and ethical dilemmas in post-revolutionary Iran.  In this thought-provoking narrative, the protagonist, Dr. Sifīd-Bakht (played by Rizā Kiyāniyān), is an obstetrician and gynecologist grappling with significant personal and professional turmoil.

The film begins with a striking symbol of ethical failure when Dr. Sifīd-Bakht, driving recklessly while intoxicated and with a prostitute beside him, hits an object. When he stops the car and gets off to see the object, he finds out he has hit—of all things—an angel. This moment of surrealism sets the stage for a series of ethically challenging situations in his private practice and life. Although most of the movie’s stories take place in a real environment, its surreal moments, mostly centered around hitting the angel, give it a poetic vibe, a frequent feature in Iranian cinema.¹³Shahrooz Yousefian, “Iranian Poetic Cinema A Historical Perspective on Poetic Film and Its Reflections in Iranian Cinema,” in Cinema Iranica (Encyclopaedia Iranica Foundation, 2025). https://cinema.iranicaonline.org/article/iranian-poetic-cinema-a-historical-perspective-on-poetic-film-and-its-reflections-in-iranian-cinema/.

Figure 12: Dr. Sifīd-Bakht, driving recklessly while intoxicated and with a prostitute beside him, hits an object. A still from the film A House Built on Water (Khānah-ʾī rūy-i āb), directed by Bahman Farmān-Ārā, 2002. Accessed via https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=62jJBa8jFd0 (00:01:51).

Figure 13: Dr. Sifīd-Bakht discovers that he has hit—of all things—an angel. A still from the film A House Built on Water (Khānah-ʾī rūy-i āb), directed by Bahman Farmān-Ārā, 2002. Accessed via https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=62jJBa8jFd0 (00:03:08).

From the beginning of the movie, we see its concern with morality. The movie addresses morality through the use of several symbols, such as drunk driving, the prostitute, loud laughing (that is typically the behavior of sinister figures in Iranian cinema), and hitting an angel. Even before this symbolic imagery, the movie opens with reciting a poem of Rumi by a narrator, who says: “You, who sits in this home filled with images and illusions, leave this house and say nothing!” The movie’s title refers to this poem, emphasizing the moral hollowness of Dr. Sifīd-Bakht’s life and prophesizing his death at the end of the story.

Ethical Challenges of a Medical Doctor

Hitting the angel symbolizes what Dr. Sifīd-Bakht does in his everyday personal life and medical practice. Here are some instances:

Dr. Sifīd-Bakht has had an affair with his secretary, who, due to a series of unfortunate events, is left unable to have children of her own. This relationship crossed many moral lines, from the professional (having romantic relations with a subordinate) to the personal (having an affair, making false promises, and leaving the exploited secretary unable to have a child).  The secretary, played by Hadiyah Tihrānī, deeply resents Dr. Sifīd-Bakht. In the movie’s final scenes, we see her collaborating with the men plotting to murder Dr. Sifīd-Bakht. She lets them know about the whereabouts of a doctor. In one of their conversations, the secretary says to Dr. Sifīd-Bakht that she had no idea who had woven the threads of her destiny, but if she did, she would ask them to unravel it.

Figure 14: The secretary, played by Hadiyah Tihrānī, tells Dr. Sifīd-Bakht she doesn’t know who wove the threads of her destiny, but if she did, she would ask them to unravel it. A still from A House Built on Water (Khānah-ī rūy-i āb), directed by Bahman Farmān-Ārā, 2002. Accessed via https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=62jJBa8jFd0 (00:26:50).

Dr. Sifīd-Bakht refuses care for an unfortunate patient facing a complicated and life-threatening labor, underscoring the tension between his medical responsibility and his personal convictions about family planning. The patient, most likely, the audience can assume, because she did not have any power to convince her husband otherwise, became pregnant again. Dr. Sifīd-Bakht dismisses them from his office, fully aware that without his expertise and help, the poor woman will face severe and life-threatening risks during her labor. Later, when he resolves to visit the patient’s home, likely to offer his assistance, he discovers that she has passed away due to complications. Grief-stricken, Dr. Sifīd-Bakht is confronted by the husband’s furious attack.

In another scene, Dr. Sifīd-Bakht agrees to perform a hymenoplasty for financial gain, aiding a woman in deceiving her future husband about her virginity. The culmination of his ethical quandaries arises when he conducts an HIV test without the patient’s consent, discovering a positive result that the patient opts not to disclose to her future spouse. Therefore, the doctor finds himself complicit in deceiving the future husband in two ways, first by a hymenoplasty that creates fake virginity and second, and more seriously, by not informing him about the lethal disease that can be transmitted to him.

Figure 15: A woman asks Dr. Sifīd-Bakht to perform a hymenoplasty to deceive her future husband. A still from A House Built on Water (Khānah-ʾī rūy-i āb), directed by Bahman Farmān-Ārā, 2002. Accessed via https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=62jJBa8jFd0 (01:32:35).

Through these vignettes, the film offers a compelling insight into the complexities of medical ethics in a socio-political landscape, challenging the viewer to reflect on healthcare professionals’ responsibilities and moral boundaries. In one of the film’s final scenes, the doctor steals a young patient from the hospital to protect him from parental abuse. Since the patient looks to be the angel whom the doctor hit by hiss car at the beginning of the movie, this part of the movie is too surrealistic to be judged by conventional ethical standards. After all, medical ethics has nothing to say in relation to dealing with supernatural patients! However, it is still part of the paternalistic approach of Dr. Sifīd-Bakht to his professional duties.

As with many other examples of medical doctors in Iranian cinema, Dr. Sifīd-Bakht has a chaotic and dysfunctional family life. He has left his father in a nursing home and does not pay attention to the old man’s pleas to come and live with him at his home. The father, whose dress style shows his belonging to the modern and prosperous class of society during his younger ages, was similar to Dr. Sifīd-Bakht in being intoxicated by power and neglectful of his son’s needs and feelings. Dr. Sifīd-Bakht’s son, who returns from abroad to visit him, is struggling with addiction. All these problems are rooted in the selfish personality and self-centered lifestyle of Dr. Sifīd-Bakht and his father.

Figure 16: The doctor steals a young patient from the hospital to protect him from parental abuse. A still from A House Built on Water (Khānah-ʾī rūy-i āb), directed by Bahman Farmān-Ārā, 2002. Accessed via https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=62jJBa8jFd0 (01:35:10).

An Ethical Analysis

Unsurprisingly, Dr. Sifīd-Bakht adopts a paternalistic approach in his professional life. Such a paternalistic approach is a well-known characteristic of the generation of doctors to which Dr. Sifīd-Bakht belongs. This characteristic plays a part in their public portrayal as arrogant and self-righteous.

The four-principle approach to ethical analysis in biomedical ethics, developed by Tom Beauchamp and James Childress,¹⁴Tom L Beauchamp and James F Childress, Principles of biomedical ethics, 7th ed. (New York: Oxford university press, 2013). offers a robust theoretical framework for examining ethical narratives, such as those found in A House Built on Water. This framework outlines four core principles that serve as the foundation of biomedical ethics; these are outlined below, followed by a brief description of the principle and relevant to the aspects of the movie to which that principle applies:

1. Respect for Autonomy: The principle of respect for autonomy emphasizes empowering patients to make informed decisions about their healthcare treatments, including allowing them to choose which interventions they wish to receive or decline.¹⁵B. Gordijn and H. ten Have, “Autonomy, free will and embodiment,” Med Health Care Philos 13, no. 4 (Nov 2010), https://doi.org/10.1007/s11019-010-9283-y. The paternalistic approach adopted by Dr. Sifīd-Bakht is in contrast with the autonomy-based approach derived from this principle. Such a paternalistic approach is also concordant with the approach adopted by most doctors of his generation and those portrayed in Iranian cinema. Dr. Sifīd-Bakht denied treatment for a patient in dire need because she had refused to accept his recommendations about family planning. For instance, He finds and throws away the drugs his son had hidden in the house. The same is true about his decision to save the child by stealing him from the hospital or to order an HIV test for his patient without obtaining her prior consent. Other doctors portrayed in post-revolutionary Iranian cinema also show paternalistic behaviors in their practices.

Figure 17: A still of Dr. Sifīd-Bakht and his son, from the film A House Built on Water (Khānah-ʾī rūy-i āb), directed by Bahman Farmān-Ārā, 2002. Accessed via https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=62jJBa8jFd0 (01:01:58).

2. Beneficence: The principle of beneficence obligates physicians to act in the best interest of their patients. It supports various ethical guidelines, including protecting and defending patients’ rights, alleviating conditions that may cause harm, assisting individuals with disabilities, and rescuing those in danger.¹⁶Eric J Cassell, “The principles of the Belmont report revisited: How have respect for persons, beneficence, and justice been applied to clinical medicine?,” Hastings Center Report 30, no. 4 (2000). In A House Built on Water, Dr. Sifīd-Bakht fails to observe this principle on multiple occasions. For example, he avoids providing necessary care to his pregnant patient. Of course, he does not lack any traces of conscience and benevolence, as even in the case of the pregnant woman, he ultimately regrets his decision; it is too late, however, to save the life of the patient. The doctors in other post-revolutionary movies are also paternalistically benevolent, such as the protagonist in No Date, No Signature, The Rain Man, and even So Far, So Close. In other cases, doctors, such as the psychiatrists in Hāmūn, are too corrupt to act benevolently.
3. Non-maleficence: The principle of non-maleficence impels physicians to avoid causing harm to their patients. This fundamental concept upholds several ethical guidelines, including refraining from killing, minimizing pain and suffering, avoiding actions that incapacitate, preventing offenses, and ensuring individuals are not deprived of the necessities of life.¹⁷T.L.  Beauchamp, “The ‘Four Priniciples’ Approach to Health Care Ethics,” in Principles of Health Care Ethics, ed. R.E. Ashcroft et al. (West Sussex: John Wiley & Sons, LTD., 2007). This principle has also been emphasized in the resources of Islamic jurisprudence, which is the base of the laws and regulations in post-revolutionary Iran.¹⁸Abdulaziz Sachedina, “No Harm, No Harassment: Major Principles of Health Care Ethics in Islam,” in Handbook of Bioethics and Religion, ed. David E. Guinn (Oxford and New York: Oxford University Press, 2006), 265-289. Dr. Sifīd-Bakht fails to observe this principle, too. In addition to depriving her pregnant patient of life-saving treatment, as mentioned above, he harms his patient by accepting to do futile treatments such as hymenoplasty for his own monetary gain. The psychiatrists in Hāmūn harm their patients for similar incentives.

Figure 18: A still from the film A House Built on Water (Khānah-ʾī rūy-i āb), directed by Bahman Farmān-Ārā, 2002. Accessed via https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=62jJBa8jFd0 (00:14:10).

4. Justice: In medical ethics, the principle of justice emphasizes the importance of ensuring a fair and equitable distribution of healthcare resources. This principle seeks to ensure that all individuals have equal access to the necessary resources and care.¹⁹Gabriel d’Empaire, “Equality, Justice and Equity,” in The UNESCO Universal Declaration on Bioethics and Human Rights: Background, Principles, and Application, ed. Henk ten Have and Michèle S. Jean (Paris: UNESCO, 2009), 173-185. As a doctor practicing in a luxurious private office, Dr. Sifīd-Bakht does not follow this principle. In fact, the ideological obsession of post-revolutionary filmmakers with the concept of justice has influenced their resentment toward the powerful class of medical doctors. Justice, fairness, and equity among people in society have been a central ideal for post-revolutionary movie makers.²⁰Hassan Mohaddesi Ghilevaaeii, “Ideological Cinema in Iran,” in Cinema Iranica (Encyclopaedia Iranica Foundation, 2025). https://cinema.iranicaonline.org/article/ideological-cinema-in-iran/ However, the specific feature of justice as a principle of biomedical ethics that commands fair distribution of health resources among various population groups has not been explicitly addressed in any post-revolutionary movie featuring a medical doctor as the protagonist.

Conclusions

The portrayal of medical doctors and their ethical challenges in the post-revolutionary Iranian cinema, as exemplified by A House Built on Water, is heavily influenced by the ideas and ideals of the revolution and its leaders, both those who finally seized power, and those (such as the left and communist groups) who were brutally eliminated by their religious rivals. These ideas and ideals centered around the principles of equity and solidarity among the poor against the affluent ruling class. The revolutionary Islamic groups also sought to revive their version of tradition and fight against modernity.

Medical doctors have been considered part of the affluent class and one of the primary beneficiaries of modernity. With a few exceptions, mainly from the “sacred defense” genre (where doctors are shown as extraordinary superhumans), the portrayal of doctors in post-revolutionary cinema is of arrogant, self-centered, greedy, and immoral individuals with chaotic personal lives.

Although no empirical data is available in this regard, one can conclude that the ideological approach of those movies had little to improve the institution of healthcare in Iran, ethically speaking. It has only added to the mutual resentment and misunderstanding between some groups of peers and medical doctors.

In addition, governmental censorship has banned the portrayal of powerful post-revolutionary classes, such as the clergy or high-ranked officials of the revolutionary guard, as corrupt, greedy, and arrogant, despite the general perception of them.²¹Hamid Naficy, “Iranian cinema under the Islamic Republic,” American Anthropologist 97, no. 3 (1995); Hamid Taheri, “Compliance and Resistance in Iranian Cinema’s Censorship Landscape: A New Approach to Analyzing Iranian Films,” Quarterly Review of Film and Video (2024); Amir Ganjavie, “Utopia and censorship: Iranian cinema at the crossroads of love, sex and tradition,” Asian Cinema 27, no. 2 (2016). This discrimination and favoritism has added to the resentment of other classes, such as physicians, who have been typically targeted by this kind of portrayal and criticism.

The influence of revolutionary ideologies mixed with totalitarian control over the media has made the experience of post-revolutionary Iranian cinema a failure in terms of promoting the standards of medical ethics. The only way to change this trend toward a more fair and constructive portrayal of doctors is by removing the shadows of governmental ideology and censorship from Iranian cinema.

Acknowledgment

The author would like to express sincere gratitude to the editorial team of Cinema Iranica for their invaluable cooperation and support. Special thanks are due to Sophia Farokhi for her assistance and to Nicole Dufoe for her insightful editing and comments, which significantly enhanced this article.