A visit in the greenzone for the Filming Permit?

How do you shoot a film on a politically sensitive topic in Iraq, a country with a volatile security situation and censorship?

The young generation in Iraq is creative and bold. The handheld film aesthetic, which we often associate with conflict and war films, didn’t feel right to me for their new vision of Iraq. I wanted to portray Iraq in a new light: cinematic, immersive, emotional.

We opted for a large camera, for visibility. But that meant negotiating filming permits with the government and military.

I traveled with Mohammed, our Iraqi producer, to the highly militarized government district: the Green Zone. We passed through checkpoints and fortifications, driving past tanks and monuments built during Saddam’s era. Our first meeting was with the commander of the Iraqi Special Forces. He wore a stiff uniform full of badges, had a mustache, and was trained in the UK. At first, he only spoke in Arabic, testing the translator’s English. Then he turned to me and, with a British accent, said, “We military men are often underestimated, but we do have a sense of art and culture!”.

He asked a few sharp questions, which I dodged with tension, and surprisingly, he was satisfied quickly. Then we took a photo, as is always done at the end of an official meeting in Iraq. In Iraq, you can be a small, insignificant mouse as long as you have a powerful lion behind you, someone who protects you, helps you assert yourself, and can even threaten in case of need: “If you hurt me, you’ll have to deal with my lion.” That photo was my weapon.

Next, we visited the Minister of Media and the spokesperson for the Prime Minister. He also wore a military uniform but was more relaxed, showing his confidence in his position of power. It was an easy chat. Again, we took a photo. That was it. We had our filming permit.

 In Iraq, relationships play a crucial role alongside the usual fees. We came at the right time, and the interim government, which took over after Prime Minister Abdul Adel Mehdi resigned during the “October Revolution,” was relatively open to Western artists and journalists. Today’s government has once again tightened censorship.