Iran International
A sense of fatalistic anticipation is spreading in Iran as the threat of a US strike grows, with many expressing fear of war but also resignation that it may be unavoidable—or even transformative.
The mood appears to shift with perceived signals from Washington, where President Donald Trump this week hinted at a deadline for Tehran while repeatedly floating military options if a deal is not reached.
Asked on Friday whether a limited strike on Iran was under consideration, Trump replied: “I guess I can say I am considering that.”
The prospect of conflict has triggered widespread discussion online, where users express a mix of dread, anger, and resignation. While many fear the destruction war could bring, others describe it as an inevitable outcome of escalating tensions.
“Many of us are certainly worried about war,” one user from Iran wrote on X, “but we are more terrified of continuing to live alongside these killers who have no limits.”
“No war means the Islamic Republic stays,” another user wrote. “The choice is yours.”
Casualties—of war and protest
The killing of protesters during nationwide unrest in January, along with the wave of arrests that followed and worsening economic hardship, has left some Iranians deeply pessimistic about the country’s future under continued Islamic Republic rule.
One user arguing against those opposed to a US strike compared casualties from Iran’s recent war with Israel to deaths during domestic unrest.
“12 days at war with Israel—how many did we lose? About a thousand and something,” the user wrote. “On January 18 and 19 how many were killed? Tens of thousands; in two days! Now do you think there’s a less costly way than war to get rid of the monster?”
Skepticism about diplomacy appears widespread.
An online poll conducted by the conservative website Asr-e Iran found that nearly 80 percent of more than 27,000 respondents did not expect negotiations to produce an agreement. In another poll on the same site, more than 70 percent said they believed the United States was using talks primarily to prepare military forces in the region.
Online polls in Iran are informal and not scientifically representative, but they offer a snapshot of sentiment among politically engaged internet users.
“Friends who oppose war, why are you condemning the people?” one X user wrote. “Beg Khamenei to stop the war. The people didn’t bring the country to this point.”
‘Packing bags’
Alongside emotional reactions, some Iranians are taking practical steps in anticipation of possible conflict, sharing advice on storing food, securing essential supplies, and identifying safer areas outside major cities.
Similar patterns emerged during the brief but intense war with Israel last June, when many residents of Tehran left for northern provinces or smaller towns. Long lines formed at gas stations in the early days of that conflict, and parts of the capital were temporarily emptied.
Many also express concern over what they see as a lack of preparation by authorities, noting the absence of public shelters or clear guidance for civilians.
“The government’s reaction to war is indifference and irresponsibility,” one user wrote. “After packing a bag, what do we do? Where are we supposed to go?”
For many Iranians, the uncertainty itself has become a source of anxiety, as the threat of war—once abstract—now feels increasingly real.
Directed by Mohammad Shirvani, Cesarean Weekend includes scenes of physical intimacy unseen on screens in Iran since the revolution in 1979.
Shirvani has long worked outside mainstream Iranian cinema, producing low-budget, highly personal films that reject conventional storytelling and visual norms.
His latest work follows a small group of characters in private settings, focusing less on plot than on relationships, physical presence, and emotional tension.
The film features composer Nader Mashayekhi appearing under his own name alongside other non-professional actors, blurring the line between performance and lived experience.
Shot with a handheld camera in confined domestic and natural environments, it presents bodies and personal interactions in ways that Iran’s official cinema has avoided for decades.
Iran’s film industry has long operated under strict state supervision. Filmmakers must obtain permits before production and submit their work for approval before release, complying with detailed regulations governing dress, gender interaction, and visual representation.
The depiction of uncovered hair, physical contact, or intimate private settings has been tightly controlled for decades.
Those restrictions remain in place. But in the years following the 2022 “Woman, Life, Freedom” protests and the subsequent crackdown, a growing number of artists appear increasingly willing to ignore them.
Rather than seeking official approval, some filmmakers are producing work independently inside Iran, outside the formal licensing system. These films are typically made with small crews, limited resources, and discreet production methods, then screened abroad.
The Berlin International Film Festival, known as the Berlinale, is one of the more prominent platforms for global cinema which has screened and awarded top prizes for such works.
This year, another Iranian underground film, Dream, directed by Mahnaz Mohammadi, was also selected for screening outside the main competition. Together, the two films reflect the continued presence—and evolution—of filmmaking beyond state oversight.
Many unlicensed films focus on political themes or censorship itself. But a growing number of filmmakers are disregarding it altogether, treating creative autonomy as a given rather than a subject.
In this context, the significance of Cesarean Weekend lies less in its narrative than in its production. Scenes involving bodily intimacy and private life were filmed inside Iran itself, despite rules designed to prevent such imagery from being created or shown.
