Any attempt at a linear plot description can't really capture the feeling of watching Black Rabbit, White Rabbit, a very meta, multi-narrative mindbender from Iranian filmmaker Shahram Mokri (Fish & Cat) that sort of feels like what might happen if Yorgos Lanthimos and Abel Ferrara got together in Tajikstan. Deaf Crocodile has already paid tribute to Mokri with a wild four-film set from 2022, and if you're familiar with his work, you should have a basic idea of what to expect here with a depiction of the world of filmmaking shot through with lots of reality warping, doubling, and comments on the futility of control.

Told in extremely long single takes divided only by chapter markers, the multi-pronged scenario begins with a real time look at the situation of Sara (Mohammaï) who has been heavily wrapped in bandages followed a car accident. Complete with a surreal ring light that opens around her feet, she is tied in ways that eventually materialize to a Tajik production in the area featuring numerous languages on set and confusion over who actually seems to be the director. Even worse, anxiety is building over a pivotal assassination scene and the safety precautions involving a firearm on set, part of the film's recurring gun imagery that culminates in a surreal punchline. The film eventually explains its title as well with an Inland Empire-style detour involving some eerie rabbit characters, part of the larger idea of smashing the reality of film production, the movie itself, and even the linear nature of time into

Playful and formally impressive with its digital lensing yielding some surprisingly beautiful effects with natural light, Black Rabbit, White Rabbit is definitely not a film for everyone but does yield many rewards if you give into its unique environment. The movie production setting is handled well with the long takes also conveying an idea of what it's like being on a set ranging from tedium to sudden panic, and it's tough to watch this without the notorious Rust shooting incident crossing your mind at least once or twice. It's a very logical choice for Deaf Crocodile to tackle this one on U.S. Blu-ray, with the presentation looking and sounding as excellent as you'd expect for a recent production. The multilingual DTS-HD MA 2.0 audio features optional English subtitles, and Tori Potenza contributes a new audio commentary ruminating on the nature of totalitarian regimes and their impact on filmmaking (including Iran's of course), the depiction of women in art and how the Sara character here serves as a continuum through different facets of the film, her take on what the creative choices mean and how the director's sense of humor figures in, and more. That last part also factors into the visual essay "The Maze: Entrances and Exits in Black Rabbit, White Rabbit" by Stephen Broomer (12m59s) which tackles the different narrative levels and how they all lock together, often merging and switching around within the same long shot or upending each other repeatedly. Finally you get three Mokri short films: 2002's The Dragonfly Storm (15m46s), essentially his variation on the butterfly effect with inlaid color and black-and-white coverage of the same day's events that kick off after a single lightbulb change; 2005's Limits of the Circle (15m45s), scored with music from a certain well-loved '90s slasher film, is basically a dry run for Fish & Cat with a crazy single take up and down a university's staircases following students through time and space; and 2007's Ando-C (16m10), a split-screen frenzy showing multiple characters and locations crashing in and out of each other multiple planes at a time. The limited edition also comes with a hefty 60-page booklet featuring further plunges down the rabbit hole with appreciative essays by Walter Chaw, Alexandra Heller-Nicholas, and Michelle Kisner.

Reviewed on August 2, 2026