Shirin Neshat is an Iranian artist and filmmaker living in New York. She works in photography, video installation, and film. Neshat has held numerous exhibitions internationally, most recently at the Tate Modern in London. She was the recipient of the Golden Lion Award and the Silver Lion Award at Venice Film Festival for her first feature film, “Women Without Men.” Neshat’s second feature film, “Looking for Oum Kulthum,” was based on the life of the legendary Egyptian singer Oum Kulthum. Neshat directed her first opera, “Aida,” at the Salzburg Music Festival.

“Land of Dreams” is screening at the 2022 Tribeca Film Festival, which is taking place June 8-19. Shoja Azari co-directed the film.

W&H: Describe the film for us in your own words.

SN: “Land of Dreams” takes place in the near future in a small town in America. It follows the journey of Simin, a young Iranian immigrant woman who has lived in the U.S. since young adulthood. She is constantly conflicted between her past traumatic political circumstances in Iran and her present life in America. Simin works for the United States Census Bureau, which has begun a program to record citizens’ dreams. Unaware of the American government’s devious plot, Simin’s personal obsession is to capture her interviewees’ dreams by photographing and later secretly impersonating them in Farsi, then publishing them on social media.

“Land of Dreams” is a playful political satire that simultaneously offers a critique of American society while pursuing a single woman’s psychological and political crisis.

W&H: What drew you to this story?

SN: The story of “Land of Dreams” stems from my own personal experiences. Even the main character is my own alter ego, an Iranian woman immigrant photographer who lives in a state of exile because of some difficult political circumstances at home.

The film is also about my relationship and point of view about my adoptive country — everything that I love, respect, and appreciate about the American society, and everything that I dare to criticize.

W&H: What do you want people to think about after they watch the film?

SN: I’d like the audience to reflect on some of the challenges immigrants living in America face today: they are torn between their appreciation of America’s compassion, yet their pain of marginalization. Equally, I’d like my audience to think about the challenges American citizens face today in a country that is so deeply divided politically and economically, and a government that is, at times, deceptive and lacking transparency.

W&H: What was the biggest challenge in making the film?

SN: There were many obstacles making the film, but perhaps the biggest challenge was to film during the pandemic. We started filming in October of 2020 under severe Covid protocols in New Mexico, which caused us to lose some actors and many extras. Later, all the post-production work, including editing, music, and sound design, had to be done virtually.

W&H: How did you get your film funded? Share some insights into how you got the film made.

SN: We had many difficulties raising funds for “Land of Dreams,” partially because of the pandemic and how studios were hesitant to finance any films, but also the nature of a film made by an Iranian, female visual artist whose approach to filmmaking was highly unconventional and stylized had less commercial appeal for many producers.

At the end, we did receive some funds from outside of the U.S., including ARTE, a TV station in Germany; In Between Art Film, an Italian foundation which supports artists making films; and Doha Film Institute in Qatar. Otherwise [funding came from] mainly private investors who believed in me and my art.

W&H: What inspired you to become a filmmaker?

SN: I started as a still photographer and later made many video installations for galleries and museums, but by 2003 I challenged myself to make my first movie, “Women Without Men,” which was released in theaters, and luckily it received the Silver Lion Award (Best Director) at the Venice Film Festival in 2009. Artistically, this film opened new doors. I learned to be a storyteller — to make films that are not mainstream, and rather original, and to find a way to bridge my own signature as a visual artist with the language of cinema.

It has been a fascinating artistic challenge to be able to work simultaneously on photography, videos, and full feature-length films for a different audience, different settings, and different collaborators.

W&H: What’s the best and worst advice you’ve received?

SN: Best advice: “Never take praise too seriously and never take criticisms too seriously.”

Worst advice: “Don’t try to experiment too much. Find out what you’re good at and stick with it.”

W&H: What advice do you have for other women directors?

SN: Never give up. Don’t be intimidated by a system that has the tendency to treat women and minorities as a second class. Stay confident and keep pushing forward — all you need is to find one or two people who believe in you and will have your back.

W&H: Name your favorite woman-directed film and why.

SN: Jane Campion’s films are moving, well-crafted, beautifully shot, and always have powerful performances. She takes her time to make films.

W&H: How are you adjusting to life during the COVID-19 pandemic? Are you keeping creative, and if so, how? 

SN: Yes, absolutely — in fact, next week I’m preparing to shoot a new video and already working on a treatment for my next movie.

W&H: The film industry has a long history of underrepresenting people of color onscreen and behind the scenes and reinforcing — and creating — negative stereotypes. What actions do you think need to be taken to make Hollywood and/or the doc world more inclusive?

SN: I believe the shift has already begun and we’re beginning to see more people of color, and other minorities, onscreen and behind the scenes, which is wonderful. However, this trend may be too superficial and too short-lived, so I see the only solution being that we continue to challenge the mainstream by the quality of our work and talents so that it will be impossible for anyone to reduce us to the color of our skin or ethnicity.