Author Marjane Satrapi, who has also co-written the script and has co-directed the film, channels her troubled childhood in Tehran at the time when the Shah of Iran was brought down, the mullahs came into power, and freedom, such as it was, flew out of the window.

Marji’s window, as a precocious 12-year-old, shows her sights which no little girl ought to witness: the bombing of her city, the death of her neighbours, the decimation of her parents, the coming of the veil, and everything that goes with it. Her uncle is jailed, and hanged: Marji endures, grows, moves out.

The film uses the black and white line drawings of the novel, but nothing about Persepolis, which won a Cannes jury prize and was nominated for an Oscar, is two-dimensional. Each crackling frame is full-on and fearless. Through her clear child’s vision, we see how easily laughter can be shackled, and what it takes to overcome. Marji returns from her cold exile in Europe, a young woman now, but she realizes, like all of us who manage to get past rocky times, that you can never come home again.