Javad Daraei is an award-winning film maker, playwright and theatre director. With support from Refugee Festival Scotland’s Arts Open initiative, Javad will be presenting his films to audiences in Scotland for the first time as part of this year’s festival programme.  

His artistic journey began in Iran, where he worked on underground films highlighting the struggles of women, LGBTQ communities and people with disabilities. His commitment to these themes came at great personal cost, including imprisonment and torture. We caught up with Javad to find out more about his work and what motivates him.  

Thanks for speaking with us Javad. Can you tell us a bit about your journey into filmmaking and the inspiration behind your work?

When I was a child, my grandmother used to tell me stories passed down through her ancestors every day. I believe that’s the moment I fell in love with storytelling.

After school, I went to study filmmaking. Around my university, there was a community of trans and queer people. I saw how afraid they were. They were always worried someone might report them to the government or attack them.

In Iran, especially gay people are at serious risk. Some face execution, and some are killed by their own families. That’s why I felt the story must be told, even if it meant filming underground, even if it meant censorship.

During my studies, I wrote I Don’t Like Here. I had no financial support, so I tried to learn every part of filmmaking. Directing, cinematography, editing, colour grading, sound mixing. At the same time, I found some wonderful friends who believed in the story and helped me. I will always appreciate their support.

My work is inspired by injustice. By the pain I’ve lived and the pain I’ve witnessed in others. These stories demand to be told. That’s what keeps me making films even when everything else says to stop.

Before, I used to write to live. Now, I write just to survive. Which means that as long as I’m writing, I’m still alive.

At your event, Two Dead Films and One Still Alive, you will be presenting two short films made in Iran, alongside footage from a new film that you’re currently developing in Glasgow. How does it feel to be sharing your work publicly for the first time in Scotland?

I Don’t Like Here and Limit were both made underground in Iran, during a time of intense surveillance and threat. Limit explores disability and the cruelty of social barriers. In poor areas of Iran, thousands of disabled people live in silence, dreaming only of having a wheelchair.

I Don’t Like Here is about a transgender person living under an oppressive regime. Even now, in the UK and around the world, queer and disabled people continue to face judgment, discrimination, and harm.

Both films were banned in my home country. For them to be shown publicly for the first time in Scotland means so much to me. I look forward to seeing people who do not speak Persian connect with these stories.

I do not claim my films can change everything, but I believe that documenting these lives and telling these stories matters. I feel a deep responsibility to show the world what I have witnessed. These films carry the voices of people who have been silenced for too long. They are also a reminder of what happens when community disappears and awareness fades.

Now, as a refugee, student, and artist living in the UK, I am filled with gratitude. Being able to screen these films here is more than just a professional milestone. It is a moment of healing and growth, and a sign that even in exile, stories can still find their voice.

Moving to Scotland has opened a new chapter in your creative practice. You have written a play, which is now in pre-production and are making a new film, shot in Glasgow. Can you tell us a bit more about that process?

After my difficult experiences as a filmmaker in Iran and as a survivor of torture, coming to Scotland was not just about starting again as an artist. It was about learning how to live again.

I tried to return to scriptwriting, but the trauma was too fresh, so I turned to theatre. With encouragement from kind people around me, I began to write again. Strikers is a deeply personal, anti-war play that draws from my own experience of surviving torture and isolation in Iran.

The play unfolds in three episodes, exploring the absurdity of war and the long-term psychological impact it has on soldiers, through the story of a conscript named Javvo. Strikers became a form of therapy. It gave me the courage to keep going.

Making a new film in Scotland has been both liberating and terrifying. At first, I was full of fear – of being arrested again, of not being able to trust anyone. But something extraordinary happened. A beautiful community and crew came together, working unpaid, giving their time, patience and love to help me.

For the first time, I felt what it means to make art freely. Here in Scotland, I don’t feel like I’m in exile. I feel human again. This land is becoming part of me. The freedom, the safety, and the kindness of people here are shaping not only how I make art but how I heal.

Your films address societal issues such as gender discrimination and disability rights. How do you collaborate with others on these highly personal projects?  

Working with actors is the most intimate part of filmmaking for me. I use method acting, especially memory recall, which I know can be tough for actors, but I believe it works. Each actor receives the script, and I want them to feel emotionally connected and comfortable with the material. I never push beyond what feels safe for them.

One of the key things for me is that the actor and the character must match in terms of emotional imagination. Whether they are an established professional doesn’t matter to me. What matters is that they can connect with the script.

I always try to create a safe and supportive environment for everyone involved. I call my crew and cast a family. That closeness and trust are what make something meaningful happen on set. We are not just working; we’re sharing something deeply human. Our feelings are respected and held with care.

Image credit: Javad Daraei, I Don’t Like Here (2016). Film still

Javad Daraei: Two Dead Films and One Still Alive, will screen at the Cameo cinema in Edinburgh at 7pm on Wednesday 18 June.

Book your ticket here

Supported by the National Lottery through Creative Scotland