RANA SAJJADI
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RANA SAJJADI

Where do you live (City, State, or Country)?
Iran, Tehran

How did you discover The Palm Springs International Screenplay Awards and how did you decide to enter this contest among all the others?
I discovered the Palm Screen International Screenplay Awards through FilmFreeway. Among the many competitions available, what stood out to me was the emphasis you placed on providing thoughtful, detailed feedback. As an independent filmmaker and writer, I believe honest professional feedback is one of the most valuable parts of the writing process. I wasn't just
looking for recognition—I wanted another experienced perspective that could evaluate the screenplay objectively and help me see both its strengths and its weaknesses. That is exactly what I received. The feedback was detailed, insightful, and constructive. It challenged me to look at the script from a different perspective and gave me ideas for further developing it. For me, that made entering the competition worthwhile, and becoming a finalist was an unexpected and very meaningful bonus.

Your script or media entry stood out among hundreds of others. What was the inspiration for your project ?
The inspiration for Floating Roots came from a question that has stayed with me for a long time: How far would a person go to achieve what they desperately want? I've always been fascinated by the point where desire, survival and morality collide. We often like to believe that our moral principles are fixed, but I think reality is much more complicated. Every day, people make compromises—sometimes because they have no choice, sometimes because they see an opportunity they cannot afford to lose. I don't believe people are simply good or bad. We all live somewhere in between, and I'm much more interested in exploring those grey areas than in judging them. Living in Iran has also shaped this story. Like many people here, I've experienced the pressure that economic uncertainty can place on everyday decisions. As someone trying to build a career as a filmmaker, I've often asked myself difficult questions about ambition, sacrifice and how much a person is willing to endure—or give up—to reach a dream. Those thoughts naturally found their way into the screenplay.

Although the story centres on a family facing an unimaginable decision, I never wanted it to be just about organ donation or immigration. For me, those are expressions of a much larger question: What happens when survival, hope and morality begin pulling a person in different directions? I wanted the audience to sit with that discomfort rather than leave with a simple answer.
Ultimately, I don't think cinema should tell us whom to condemn. I think it should invite us to understand people whose choices we hope we never have to make ourselves.

How long did it take you to write your script or produce your pitch deck/sizzle reel/trailer...and what was your development process?
The screenplay took me about a year and three months to develop. During that time, I also wrote two other scripts, but I kept returning to Floating Roots. I think I revised it more than ten times before I finally felt it was saying exactly what I wanted it to say.
The first draft was actually very different. It had five active characters in addition to the father, and several subplots. As I kept rewriting, I realised that many of those characters and storylines weren't serving the emotional core of the film. Every time I removed one, the screenplay actually became stronger. That process taught me an important lesson: in a short film, every
scene and every character has to earn its place. What remained was the heart of the story. My writing process usually starts with a central question or concept rather than a plot. Once I find that idea, I explore many possible stories around it. I compare them, challenge them, and ask myself which one genuinely comes from something I'm struggling with or thinking about in my own life. If the story doesn't feel personal, I know I won't have the patience or honesty to keep rewriting it. The hardest part of this screenplay was creating characters who couldn't be reduced to heroes or villains. I wanted the mother to have her own moral logic rather than simply be "right" or "wrong." The daughter also had to reach a point where the audience could understand her choices without necessarily agreeing with them. Finding that balance took many revisions. There were moments when the writing process was mentally exhausting. I questioned the script many times and often felt I was making it worse before making it better. But looking back, this screenplay changed me as a writer. It pushed me far beyond my previous work and forced me to think more deeply about character, structure and moral complexity. I still remember the moment I finished the final draft and read it from beginning to end. For the first time, I felt I wasn't just reading a screenplay—I was reading a story that truly deserved to be told. That feeling made every difficult rewrite worthwhile.

What is your ultimate ambition as a writer or filmmaker?
My ultimate ambition isn't to collect awards, although I think awards are wonderful because they encourage artists and help films find an audience. What I truly hope for is to make films that stay with people long after they've left the cinema.
I want to create work that has its own voice—films that say something honest about human beings and are remembered not because of my name, but because of the stories, the characters and the emotions they leave behind. When someone says, "Do you remember that film about...?" rather than "Do you remember who directed it?" I think that's a beautiful kind of success. I've always admired filmmakers like Michael Haneke, Yorgos Lanthimos, Wong Kar-wai and Abbas Kiarostami because they never seem to follow trends. They created their own cinematic language. Their films come from their own cultures, experiences and ways of seeing the world, yet they resonate with audiences everywhere. That is something I deeply aspire to. One of my biggest dreams is also to work alongside artists I admire. Honestly, I wouldn't care what my role was. Even if I were a second or third assistant on one of their productions, I would consider it an incredible opportunity because I believe there is so much to learn from being part of their creative process. The same curiosity extends beyond cinema. For example, I greatly admire Jonathan Anderson's creative thinking as a fashion designer. I'm fascinated by artists in any field who develop a unique voice and challenge conventional ways of creating. At this stage of my career, building connections in the film industry is one of the hardest parts. Sometimes it takes enormous energy just to have a screenplay read or to find the right producer. I hope that one day those conversations will happen more naturally, not because filmmaking has become easier, but because my work has earned people's trust. I'd love to reach a point where someone says, "I'd love to read your next script" or "Let's find a way to
make this film together."
Ultimately, I don't want to make films simply to win awards or follow what is popular. I want to make films that come from my own experiences, my own questions and the culture I come from, while still speaking to audiences anywhere in the world. If, years from now, one of my films inspires another young filmmaker the way Haneke, Kiarostami, Wong Kar-wai and Lanthimos have inspired me, I think that would be the greatest achievement I could hope for.

Which film directors or screenwriters inspire you? Why?
Many filmmakers and screenwriters inspire me. Sometimes a single film can completely change the way I think about cinema, but there are a few artists whose entire body of work has had a lasting influence on me: Abbas Kiarostami, Michael Haneke, Yorgos Lanthimos and Wong Kar- wai. They are all very different, but each has taught me something essential about filmmaking. Abbas Kiarostami is probably the filmmaker who has influenced me the most. As an Iranian filmmaker, I also understand some of the difficulties he faced while working under censorship and limitations. What I admire most is the way he captures life in all its complexity. His films deal with poverty, loss, death and uncertainty, but they never manipulate the audience emotionally. They observe life with honesty, patience and compassion. I think that's incredibly difficult to achieve.
Today, I sometimes feel that filmmakers believe a film has to be emotionally devastating or visually extreme to be meaningful. I don't share that view. Kiarostami showed that cinema can be quiet, subtle and deeply human while still leaving a profound impact. That has shaped the way I think about storytelling.

Michael Haneke inspires me for a different reason. He isn't afraid to confront the darker parts of human nature. His films ask difficult questions about violence, responsibility, fear and the systems we live within, but he rarely offers easy answers. Instead, he trusts the audience to wrestle with those questions themselves. That courage and honesty have influenced the kinds of moral dilemmas I like to explore in my own writing. Yorgos Lanthimos fascinates me because of the way he combines philosophy with storytelling. His films are intellectually rich, but they never feel like lectures. They are surprising, often unsettling, and always driven by compelling characters and situations. I especially admire his early Greek films, where you can see how he transforms ideas from his own culture into stories that feel universal.
Wong Kar-wai inspires me through his cinematic language. Every frame, every movement and every visual choice serves the emotional experience of the story. Even when very little is happening on the surface, the images communicate something profound. His films remind me that cinema is not only about dialogue or plot; it is also about rhythm, atmosphere and the emotions that exist between words. Although these filmmakers are very different, they share one quality that I deeply admire: none of them followed trends. They developed their own cinematic language and remained faithful to it. That is the kind of filmmaker I hope to become—not by imitating their styles, but by finding an authentic voice of my own that grows from my own experiences, culture and questions about the world.
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What’s your all-time favorite movie or television show?
It's almost impossible for me to choose just one favourite film because different films have changed the way I think about cinema for different reasons. But if I had to choose the ones that have stayed with me the most, they would be Where Is the Friend's House? by Abbas Kiarostami, Dogtooth by Yorgos Lanthimos, The Piano Teacher and Amour by Michael Haneke, I Killed My Mother (J'ai tué ma mère) by Xavier Dolan, and Anatomy of a Fall by Justine Triet. If I had to pick only one, it would be Where Is the Friend's House? Every time I begin to lose faith in humanity, I watch that film again. It reminds me how beautiful, fragile and compassionate ordinary life can be. It makes me laugh, cry, feel anxious and hopeful—all through the simplest story imaginable. To me, it is one of the purest examples of what cinema can achieve.
Dogtooth is a film I think every screenwriter should study. Its screenplay is astonishingly original, and the world it creates feels completely believable despite its absurdity. Beneath the story, it becomes a powerful reflection on power, control and dictatorship. Michael Haneke's The Piano Teacher and Amour have also had a profound impact on me. I admire Haneke's willingness to explore uncomfortable aspects of human nature without judging his characters. Amour, in particular, is one of the most honest portrayals of love I've ever seen.
Anatomy of a Fall is a masterclass in restrained filmmaking. Through dialogue and subtle direction, it creates enormous tension without relying on spectacle. As for television, Succession is my favourite series. I honestly struggle to find a weak point in it.
The writing, performances, directing and cinematography all work together beautifully, and every character feels fully realised from beginning to end.

How do you approach competition entries, and what have you learned from participating in these contests?
I try to approach competitions with curiosity rather than expectation. Of course, every filmmaker hopes their work will be recognised, but I don't submit a screenplay simply to collect awards or laurels. I look for competitions that take filmmaking seriously and, whenever possible, offer thoughtful feedback.
That's one of the reasons I entered the Palm Screen International Screenplay Awards. The opportunity to receive detailed professional feedback was just as valuable to me as the competition itself. Like many filmmakers, I've experienced both acceptances and many rejections. At first, the rejections were difficult, especially when I believed strongly in a project. But over time, I realised that neither rejection nor recognition should define the value of the work. They are simply part of the journey.
The biggest lesson I've learned is to be brave enough to put your work in front of other people and to welcome constructive criticism. Honest feedback from someone who reads your screenplay objectively is incredibly valuable because it helps you recognise both your strengths and the areas where you can grow. For me, that's ultimately more meaningful than winning an award. Awards are wonderful and encouraging, but learning something that makes me a better writer and filmmaker lasts much longer than any trophy or laurel.

What advice do you have for others hoping to win a contest or place as a finalist as you have?
My advice would be to focus less on winning and more on becoming a better writer. It's easy to think that a finalist position or an award will change everything, but filmmaking is a long journey, and one result—whether it's a success or a rejection doesn't define your career.
I'd also encourage writers to submit their work to competitions that offer meaningful feedback. A thoughtful critique can teach you far more than a laurel because it helps you see both your strengths and the areas you can improve. That kind of growth stays with you long after the competition is over.
Finally, don't be afraid of rejection. Every screenplay will connect with some readers more than others. The important thing is to keep writing, keep revising, and keep putting your work out into the world. You never know which script, or which competition, might open the next door.

What else are you working on that the world needs to know about?
At the moment, I'm developing my third short film, which is currently in the revision stage. Like much of my work, it explores the relationship between systems and human beings, but this time I want to tell that story in a way that feels more familiar and accessible. Screenwriting is always the most challenging part of the process for me. Every script demands a lot emotionally, but it's also the most rewarding part once everything finally comes together. At the same time, I'm developing my first feature film. Rather than jumping straight into a single long narrative, I'm writing an episodic feature made up of five interconnected stories linked by a common theme. Two of the stories are complete, a third is well developed, and I'm continuing to build the remaining two. I'm very excited about this project, especially because an early version of the proposal was accepted into an international film residency, which gave me the confidence to keep developing it.
Alongside filmmaking, theatre remains a very important part of my creative life. I've written two stage plays, and I'm now preparing my first theatrical production. I hope to stage it first in Iran and, eventually, bring it to audiences in Europe and the United States. For me, cinema and theatre constantly inspire each other. Theatre gives me the freedom to experiment as boldly as possible, while filmmaking encourages me to refine those ideas into something quieter, more cinematic and, hopefully, universal.

Where can the world find you? (Website, IMDB, etc.)
Instagram: @rana.sajadi