Prisoner 951 Review: Harrowing Retelling of Nazanin Zaghari

Published: 25 November 2025. The English Chronicle Desk. The English Chronicle Online

Without being flippant about Prisoner 951, the dramatisation of Nazanin Zaghari-Ratcliffe’s abduction and imprisonment by Iranian authorities for six years, there is one moment of grim comedy that sticks in the mind.

It is 2017, and we see Nazanin (played with quiet intensity by Narges Rashidi), already imprisoned for over a year in a special jail for female political prisoners, which, compared to her previous periods of solitary confinement, is relatively mild. Suddenly, a commotion breaks out around the television. “They’re talking about me,” Nazanin notices, stepping closer to see Iranian state TV broadcast a clip of Boris Johnson, then British foreign secretary, giving evidence to a Commons committee. His words, clumsily phrased, declare: “When we look at what Nazanin Zaghari-Ratcliffe was doing, she was simply teaching people journalism, as I understand it, at the very limit.”

At this point, Nazanin, already enduring a year of mental torture at the hands of the notorious Revolutionary Guard, freezes in silent despair. The camera lingers; time slows down. Rashidi conveys the depth of Nazanin’s trauma without uttering a single word. After enduring manipulation, abuse, and isolation, she now witnesses the ultimate betrayal as a British citizen.

Nazanin had always maintained that her visit to Iran, with her two-year-old daughter Gabriella, was solely to see family. Her work as a project manager at the Thomson Reuters Foundation was entirely unrelated. The Iranian authorities either failed to understand this distinction or deliberately ignored it, seeing her as a valuable bargaining chip. And now, in a single, poorly phrased sentence, Johnson effectively brands her a liar and a spy. The absurdity is painful, though, mercifully, he is left uncast. His real-life blunders are sufficiently farcical without embellishment.

The humour comes a little later. After the gaffe, Johnson flies to Tehran to meet with Iranian leaders. The women in prison watch footage of him shaking hands with their tormentors and cannot help but be bemused. One whispers: “Nazanin, how can this man be important? He looks like he fell out of a bush.” It is a rare moment of relief, giving both the audience and Nazanin herself a fleeting smile amid the narrative of horror.

If Prisoner 951 is anything, it is a Solzhenitsyn-esque study of resilience. Rashidi’s performance captures Nazanin’s endurance and subtle despair, while Joseph Fiennes as her husband Richard Ratcliffe portrays unyielding determination in his campaign for her release. The young Gabriella, played by Mana Sayyah and later Ava Rose, adds heart to the series, alongside Nicholas Farrell as the authoritative but supportive father-in-law.

The passage of time is rendered with excruciating precision, and the series captures the repeated torment of dashed hopes. Promises of imminent release and a return to Britain are broken; appeals to bogus courts are rejected. Hunger strikes are undertaken, each scene showing the emotional and physical toll, as despair threatens to consume both Richard and Nazanin. Flashbacks to their early romance, however, remind viewers of the love that sustains them through unrelenting hardship.

Throughout, Nazanin faces relentless pressure to issue a false confession. These attempts are psychologically brutal, designed to erode her identity and force compliance. Eventually, she succumbs under extreme duress, a step necessary for her release, which coincides with the British government finally paying a £400m debt to Iran. The narrative presents this moment not as triumph, but as a compromise shaped by global politics and personal suffering.

The Revolutionary Guards, portrayed with chilling attention to detail, make long stretches of the story into horrific mini-thrillers. Whether it is the older martinet types in cheap suits, the younger enforcers in sunglasses and leather jackets, or fanatical female accomplices in traditional chadors, their presence amplifies the sense of paranoia. By the end of the series, it becomes evident that distrust, surveillance, and fear are not incidental but central to contemporary Iranian society.

Yet amid these grim realities, the series allows moments of humanity to shine through. The interactions among the imprisoned women, moments of shared levity, and the small acts of kindness underscore the resilience of those trapped in oppressive systems. Even brief sequences, like the incredulous reactions to Johnson, allow audiences to breathe and reflect on the absurdity that often accompanies political mismanagement.

Stylistically, the series balances stark realism with carefully modulated pacing. Rashidi’s nuanced performance ensures that the audience experiences Nazanin’s trauma viscerally, while Fiennes’ intensity grounds the emotional stakes in love, loyalty, and determination. The use of flashbacks and interwoven family perspectives creates a layered understanding of the personal impact of geopolitical decisions.

Prisoner 951 is harrowing, effective, and, at times, painfully honest. It illuminates the personal cost of international diplomacy and hostage negotiation while providing a platform for the resilience of its central characters. For viewers, it is impossible to watch without a profound sense of empathy, frustration, and admiration for the courage displayed. It is a series that lingers, not only because of its narrative power but also because of its ethical insistence on truth and accountability.

By the time the final credits roll, viewers are left with a stark awareness of both the perils faced by Nazanin Zaghari-Ratcliffe and the systemic machinery that enabled her suffering. Paranoia, control, and fear emerge as central forces, shaping the daily realities of those living under constant threat, yet the series ultimately honours the indomitable human spirit that persists even in the darkest of circumstances.