What a gem of a movie coming from Iranian filmmaker Mohammad Rasoulof in The Seed of the Sacred Fig, an understated yet powerful political drama unfolds in a deliberate slow-burn approach. It may run nearly three hours but Rasoulof’s absorbing direction somehow manages to keep me engaged throughout the movie.
While it opens with an attention-grabbing moment of bullets hitting a table as we see Iman (Missagh Zareh) is given a gun due to the risky nature of his newly promoted job as an investigating judge amidst the political turmoil and civil unrest in Tehran, one would easily expect the story will be told from his perspective. Instead, Rasoulof chooses to subvert that expectation by focusing on Iman’s wife, Najmeh (Soheila Golestani) and their two teenage daughters Rezvan (Mahsa Rostami) and Sana (Setareh Maleki) instead.
Initially, I thought this was going to be a long-winded filler that would spend more time on the subplot rather than the main point of the movie. But as it turns out, it makes so much sense why Rasoulof chooses to pay more attention to Iman’s wife and his children in the first place. Following Iman’s promotion, which will grant him a bigger paycheck and a better apartment for his family, but it comes with a catch. And that is signing off on an indictment to carry out the death penalty without going through the evidence. Because the last time his predecessor refused to sign the legal document resulted in the termination of employment. Iman has been working as a lawyer for 21 years and he doesn’t want to lose his job and of course, his reputation.
With Iman remaining conflicted while trying his best to do his job, Najmeh is left in charge at home taking care of their daughters and making sure they are safe. But the daughters, particularly the rebellious Rezvan are very supportive of the public protests against the authoritarian government. At one point, while they are watching the TV news with their mother reporting about the death of Mahsa Amini, an argument occurs between the three of them. Najmeh insists the cause of Mahsa’s death is due to a stroke because “it’s what TV said”, prompting one of her daughters to question the integrity of mainstream news reports. Debates soon heat up when Rezvan becomes vocal about women’s freedom in dressing up an outfit and the injustice surrounding the hijab-wearing rules.
The death of Mahsa Amini, of course, refers to the real-life case that took place on September 16, 2022, when she died at just 22 years old as a result of police brutality due to her improper way of wearing the hijab. The nature of Iman’s “sensitive job” as Najmeh would put it upon warning Rezvan to be always careful and discreet, especially given her close friendship with the radical-minded classmate, Sadaf (Niousha Akhshi). This, in turn, triggers Rezvan further because she had enough of her mother controlling her all the time.
Rasoulof, who also wrote the screenplay, starts to ratchet up both emotional and dramatic tensions, beginning with Sadaf suffering from a serious buckshot-causing injury that makes things more difficult than already is for Najmeh. But nothing comes worse than Iman finds out he has lost his gun. From there, the missing gun angle becomes Rasoulof’s major motif to explore paranoia, fear and distrust. Apparently, losing a gun issued by the government is a serious offence, which can lead to up to three years in jail not to mention losing his job and credibility that he has worked his way up all these years. This is where Iman starts to lose his mind and patience, even going as far as accusing her family. Is Iman himself misplaced his gun or is it either his wife or their daughters hid it somewhere for some reason?
The questions linger as the movie skillfully morphs from a tense family drama to a psychological thriller in the second half. The ever-stressful job being an investigating judge has somewhat taken a toll on Iman both mentally and emotionally. He becomes an entirely different person from the day he loses the gun. Rasoulof raises the stakes as Iman’s paranoia escalates to a breaking point, evidently in the third act, complete with a subtle storytelling maneuver. The Seed of the Sacred Fig also benefits from excellent performances all around including all four principal actors: Missagh Zareh, Soheila Golestani, Mahsa Rostami and Setareh Maleki. Interestingly, the movie was shot in secret and yet, it’s hard to tell from the way Rasoulof frames every shot perfectly and intimately with none of the run-and-gun, guerilla filmmaking style.
