**Summary**: 8/10: A potent diagnosis of corruption's corrosive effects anchored by powerful performances from Reza Akhlaghirad and Soudabeh Beizaee; patience through the deliberately suffocating first half pays off with a third act that refuses false comfort in favor of hard truths.
Director Mohammad Rasoulof understands the cost of integrity. In 2011, he was sentenced to six years in prison and handed a 20-year ban on filmmaking for alleged anti-regime propaganda. In 2017, Iranian authorities confiscated his passport. In 2024, he was sentenced to flogging and more prison; but he fled Iran for Europe after a dangerous journey. Like Jafar Panahi, Rasoulof continues making films that his government desperately wants silenced. He is now living somewhere in exile, unable to return home.
A Man of Integrity, which won Un Certain Regard at the 2017 Cannes Film Festival, is a clear picture of what life looks like under a fascist, corrupt government when the corruption pervades down to the local level. It takes place in Iran, but it could be Russia, Hungary, parts of the United States, or any of dozens of countries around the world. Governments apparently trend toward this condition over time; once corruption becomes normalized at the top, it metastasizes downward until every transaction, every interaction, every attempt to simply live becomes an encounter with rot.
Reza (Reza Akhlaghirad) runs a fish farm in northern Iran. He's honest, hardworking, trying to provide for his wife Hadis (Soudabeh Beizaee) and young daughter. Then a mysterious company wants his land. When he refuses to sell, the corruption begins: The film depicts Iran as a virtual gangster state in which the impunity that starts at the top pervades the entire establishment of business, religion, and government.
Akhlaghirad and Beizaee are both exceptional here, especially as the pressure mounts and we watch what sustained injustice does to decent people. Akhlaghirad's performance catches Reza's deepening despair as the actor's gaze freezes and his dark eyes seem to sink into their sockets. Beizaee captures a wife watching her husband break under the weight of choosing between integrity and survival, between protecting his family and protecting his soul.
The first half drags somewhat; corruption piles onto Reza like throwing logs on a fire until you wonder how much more one man can endure. But don't lose faith. The third act is absolutely worth the wait, as Rasoulof refuses easy answers or Hollywood redemption. What he offers instead is more honest and more devastating.
This is a brave film made by a brave filmmaker, one who knew that making it would cost him. That Rasoulof, (and Panahi) keeps making films, keeps telling stories his government forbids, keeps exposing truths those in power want buried, is the hero we need today.
