Venice 2026: I Plant My Hand in the Garden (dirs. Hoda Taheri & Boris Hadžija) | Review

Hoda Taheri and Boris Hadžija’s debut feature, I Plant My Hand in the Garden, presented at the 23rd Giornate Degli Autori as part of the 2026 Venice International Film Festival, has a simple premise of a soon-to-be married couple embarking on the next steps of life through marriage and parenthood, but all is simple except for their timely circumstances – citizenship, identity, human rights, and traditions. Fictionalized through their own experiences, best friends Hoda and Boris, who also star in the film, alongside their own family, live in Berlin, emigrates from their home country of Iran and Serbia, respectively. To add to their unique situation, the two are in queer relationships with separate people, using this marriage as rejection to societal norms, taking into their hands what family in contemporary times could be. 

Opening in a long-single take of Hoda in Serbia video calling her mother and sister in Iran days before the wedding, Hoda and Boris’s formal approach is apparent form the very first scene – minimal camera movement and long takes make brilliant use of space and time, and in the opening, transporting Hoda’s mother and sister to Serbia with a slow zoom. The issues of their conversations disappear, along with Iran’s border, and the image’s border, using cinema’s formal qualities as a declarative statement of reunion after separation. 

But aside from the specific approach, Hoda and Boris’s debut film unpacks the reimagining of a family through a queer lens. The film goes through the two’s life post-wedding back in Berlin, introducing different father issues, a wild oner from the inside of Hoda zooming out at a clinic in an audacious transition from Serbia to Berlin, and their relationships with their same-sex partners. Both of their side-relationships aren’t given much screen-time, as that’s not the purpose of the film, subverting gay people’s experience in film to a more expansive experience, but we see how emotionally how it shapes their behavior. It’s a slice of life film with specificity towards Hoda and Boris’s circumstances, sharing their experiences against the absurd rules these institutions hold against them.

The film’s simplicity poses existential questions related to their new family roles. Dreams of motherhood’s anxiety towards their children, Boris’s mutual disconnect with his father, or reflections of the past, emigrating to Berlin and its trade-off in leaving their home country with its faults for one with better freedom. The stories from their mothers comfort them through these times, understanding how to move forward as an unconventional couple and as an individual. The film opens up new perspectives, especially in the multi-cultural experiences of Hoda and Boris, giving us a fresh sense of empathy. And as the film progresses, the cycle of life from marriage and birth comes with death. At the funeral of Hoda’s friend’s aunt, we (and the camera) move with Hoda and Boris to the end, pulling one last trick out of their book into a perplexing meta-commentary onto the real Hoda and Boris.

The juxtaposition between its formal choices and content opens the film’s extensive storytelling capabilities. The static shots and long-takes filled with dialogue converges with its layered and dense histories and experiences. To fit Hoda and Boris’ pasts and present using simple, but creative choices without delving too much into exposition, but in the image’s space and time, is one of the most admirable parts of the film. The two’s collaboration goes against social norms, using cinema as an act of artistic expression to freely tell their own stories.

The 83rd edition of the Venice International Film Festival is running on September 2-12, 2026.