Kiarash Dadgar

Kiarash Dadgar

Kiarash Dadgar is an Iranian filmmaker and theater artist currently based in Canada. With a background in acting and playwriting, his creative journey began on stage before evolving into visual storytelling behind the camera. A graduate of Soore Art University in Tehran with a Master’s in Dramatic Literature, he is now pursuing an MFA in Film at York University.

His debut short film The Steak has been widely recognized on the international festival circuit, screening at over 275 festivals and earning more than 100 awards, including the prestigious AGBO Fellowship Award at Slamdance. Known for his quiet, image-driven narratives and minimalist approach, Dadgar’s work often explores themes of grief, repression, memory, and human resilience.

Blending fiction, documentary, and poetic realism, his films center on stories that transcend language and speak across cultures. Through his growing body of work, Dadgar continues to examine the emotional landscapes of individuals living within — and often against — the systems that shape them.

Tell us a little about yourself and your background. Where did your creative journey begin?

I was born and raised in Esfahan, Iran, in a family with no artistic background. I studied Information Technology in undergrad, but I was always chasing a dream, even before I knew what that dream was. As a teenager, I imagined becoming a superstar, first as a singer, because that was how I saw success and freedom. Over time, I became captivated by performance. I started acting in local theater productions, and the first time I stood on stage and heard the audience respond, I knew I wanted to be part of that world.

Acting led me to writing plays, then directing, and eventually filmmaking. I pursued a Master’s in Dramatic Literature in Tehran while working on short films. Later, I moved to Canada to begin my MFA in Film at York University. Gradually, I shifted from performing to building stories behind the camera. Filmmaking became a way to tell human stories that go beyond language and culture—stories that stay with you after the screen fades to black.

What first drew you to filmmaking?

It was the emotional power of images—how a single moment on screen could say everything without a word. Coming from a theater background, I already loved storytelling and performance, but film gave me a different language. Some of the most powerful films I’ve seen didn’t rely on big dialogue or dramatic plot twists. Sometimes it was just a look, a cut, or a quiet scene that said it all. That kind of precision amazed me.

Was there a moment when you realized this was what you truly wanted to do?

There were a few moments, but two stand out. One was during a small screening of one of my short films. There was a silent moment when I could feel the audience was fully immersed in the story. That quiet connection moved me deeply. The second was when I received the AGBO Fellowship Award at Slamdance for The Steak. Being recognized by a studio I admire made me feel like I wasn’t just chasing a dream anymore—I was living it.

How would you describe your style or the kind of stories you like to tell?

My style leans heavily toward visual storytelling. I often use minimal dialogue, and I’m drawn to silence and what remains unspoken. I prefer stories that unfold through images, gestures, and rhythm rather than exposition. The themes I return to include death, migration, repression, memory, and the quiet struggles of daily life. I like creating stories that appear simple on the surface but stay with you. I sometimes mix fiction with documentary elements or experiment with narrative structure. Above all, I aim to create films that resonate across cultures.

Are there certain themes or ideas you often return to in your work?

Yes, I often revisit themes like death, grief, repression, migration, and the disappearing presence of women across generations, especially within Iranian culture. There is usually a quiet sadness underneath my films—a sense of loss or things left unsaid. I’m also drawn to rituals, family relationships, and the blurry line between memory and reality.

What tools, techniques, or workflows do you enjoy using most?

I find creative limitations very inspiring. I enjoy working with natural light, using static shots, and creating long takes with meaningful camera movement. My process usually starts with a visual or emotional idea that lingers in my mind. I record voice notes or write fragments on my phone. If an idea stays with me long enough, I begin shaping it into something more concrete. I also enjoy involving collaborators early, especially DPs and story editors, to help shape the film’s language.

What’s your usual process when starting a new project?

It often begins with a feeling or an image I can’t forget. I don’t start with a plot. Instead, I let the emotional tone or visual atmosphere lead. I record ideas, write down thoughts, and let them sit for a while. If they stay with me, I know they’re worth exploring. Once I commit, I start building the world slowly. I write, step away, then return. I talk through the concept with my DP or Art Director to discover the visual language early on. It’s important that I emotionally connect with the project before going forward.

What challenges have you faced in your creative work, and how have you dealt with them?

Mental health has been one of the biggest challenges—coping with ADHD, burnout, and isolation. It’s easy to get overwhelmed, especially when working alone for long periods. I’ve learned to take breaks, ask for help, and work with mentors and collaborators when I need support. Another challenge has been navigating the industry as an Iranian artist. Visa issues, funding barriers, and borders are constant hurdles. But these obstacles have also made me more resourceful and strengthened my artistic voice.

Is there a past project you’re especially proud of and want more people to see?

Yes, The Steak is the work I’m most proud of. It’s a short film without dialogue that explores war, innocence, and dignity. It has been shown at over 275 festivals, won more than 100 awards, and earned the AGBO Fellowship Award at Slamdance. But what matters most is the emotional response it has received from audiences around the world. That kind of connection is what I always hope for in my work.

What inspired your most recent piece, and what was the journey like?

My most recent short, Cutlet – Confronting Death, was inspired by a tweet. Someone wrote about their grandmother preparing food shortly before she passed away, and how the family ate it knowing she was gone. That image stayed with me. I also thought about my own mother and her sacrifices, especially after we immigrated. The film became a personal reflection on generational loss and the invisible labor of women. It’s still in development, but the writing process has already been meaningful.

What do you hope audiences take away from Cutlet?

I hope viewers feel a quiet emotional resonance—something that lingers. The film is about grief, memory, and how we carry those we’ve lost through small, everyday rituals. I want people to reflect on the silent roles that women play in holding families together and perhaps feel a bit less alone in their own experiences with loss.

Are there any new projects you’re currently working on?

Yes. I’m developing my first feature film, Graveyard, under the mentorship of AGBO Studio. It’s a dark, allegorical story set on a remote island, exploring themes like love, revenge, and social control through a blend of dark comedy and critique. I’m also preparing to shoot Cutlet and working on a hybrid documentary-fiction project that looks at aging, death, and caregiving—a deeply personal subject for me.

What would you love to explore more in your future work?

I want to continue blending forms—fiction with documentary, cinema with ritual. I’m also interested in stories that center on silence, rhythm, and visual expression rather than plot. Topics like cultural memory, spirituality, and the ethics of death and self-erasure are areas I’d like to explore more deeply, in ways that leave space for personal reflection.

How do you see yourself evolving as an artist in the next few years?

I’m learning to embrace a slower process—to take time, reflect, and stay emotionally honest. I want to take bigger creative risks and make films that feel personal and necessary. I also hope to support emerging artists, especially those from underrepresented or displaced communities. Growth, for me, means staying curious and continuing to surprise myself.

What advice would you give to someone just starting out in this field?

Don’t wait for permission. Start with what you have—a feeling, an image, an idea no one else sees. Don’t be afraid to fail beautifully. Every mistake teaches you something real. Protect your voice, and don’t let external pressures silence it. Surround yourself with people who support that voice. That’s where meaningful work begins.

If you’d like to see more of Kiarash Dadgar’s work, or reach out for collaboration, you can find him here:

Instagram: @kiarash.dadgar
Website: www.kiarashdadgar.com
Facebook: Kiarash Dadgar