In the final scenes of Faraz Shariat's film Futur Drei (Future Three; in English as No Hard Feelings, 2020), a muffled female voice speaks these words in Farsi in a message left on a borrowed cell phone, a belated goodbye from Banafshe to her brother Amon. Banafshe is in hiding somewhere in Europe to avoid deportation to Iran; Amon is staying in Germany, for now, waiting for his asylum case to be decided. The film conveys her message to him as a voice-over; her location remains undisclosed. The close-up, almost still images that accompany her words shift between showing fragile, precious-looking house plants, intricate leaves, and soft grass to plants with spikes and strong, protective bark (see Figs. 1 and 2). At times, the plant images clash with the words as they connect the different emotions expressed in the message and in the film, from displacement and precarity, to permanence, sadness, and past hauntings, and finally to love, joy, and, importantly, hope for the future. They reference the plants Amon cares for in his room in the refugee shelter, the greenhouse where Banafshe and her brother Amon and his boyfriend Parvis joyfully celebrate Amon's birthday, and the carefully groomed gardens in the middle-class suburb where Parvis lives with his parents.

I have begun my introductory chapter with a description of the final scenes of the film I discuss in the last chapter of this book. Faraz Shariat’s film illustrates how plants in literature and film speak about complex histories and structures of violence but also about more just interrelations, place-making, and hopes for better futures. The film is intense and emotional, funny and political. It is easy to overlook the crucial importance plants play as connectors in the film; however, plants are closely tied to the film's complex negotiation of identity and belonging, specifically when it comes to sexuality, gender, citizenship status, and language.