One of the few ways it is possible for those of us outside Iran to support that majority in the country which opposes the reactionary, misogynistic, anti- working class regime is to take the opportunity to watch Iranian films. With the exception of South Park, most of the American entertainment industry has been cowed by Trump. Iranian film makers on the other hand produce a steady trickle of great films criticising their theocratic state, and this new film from Jafar Panahi is an important addition to that body of work. It is currently in cinemas and should soon be streamed on Mubi.

A regime torturer who was known to his victims as “Peg Leg” or “The Gimp” on account of his artificial leg acquired while fighting the Iranian state’s interpretation of a holy war in Syria, stops to have his car repaired at a garage. The mechanic, an ethnic Azerbaijani called Vahid, recognises him as his torturer. We later learn that he was one of a group of factory workers who were imprisoned and tortured when they protested against not having been paid for eight months.

Not being entirely sure that he has the right man, Vahid asks for a second opinion from another former prisoner, leading to a sequence which could be described as Carry on Kidnapping the Secret Policeman. My advice to anyone planning to kidnap a state torturer would be that it is probably not a smart move to drive his wife and kid to the local hospital, be seen by lots of staff and pay for the medical bills with your own bank card. It is undeniably a sweet gesture, but in Iran will probably result in you dangling from a noose.

Having rounded up a van load of former prisoners, Vahid has to decide what to do with the torturer. The voice of reason is Hamid, the most severely traumatised of the group who argues that they have to kill him, not just for what he has done but because if he survives he will track them down. “Whoever finishes a revolution only halfway, digs his own grave” and all that.

My expert on Iranian matters tells me that the name of one of the central characters, Shiva, is very uncommon in the country, but a few seconds of research reveals that its root has meanings such as “liberation, final emancipation” and “one who can kill the forces of darkness”.

She easily has the most powerful scene in the film. A former prisoner who is now a wedding photographer she goes around Tehran rarely bothering to cover her hair. With the brute tied to a tree she repeatedly slaps him, calls him all sorts of obscene names and almost overpowers him with her the strength of her feminine presence. She breaks him much more successfully than Vahid had managed.

Like much of the best Iranian cinema, this one is often shot on the streets and sometimes has an improvised quality. You see something of what life is like, not least the flagrant demands for bribes in hospitals and from cops and security guards. More importantly it is a bold statement of resistance from film makers and civil society impatient for the regime to collapse.

You can help them with that by watching this terrific film.