The Seed of the Sacred Fig
Nominated for a foreign-language Oscar, Mohammad Rasoulof’s drama dares to tell the truth about life in Iran.
Image courtesy of Lionsgate.
Like his compatriot Jafir Panahi, Mohammad Rasoulof is a talented Iranian writer/director who has refused to tone down his works to please the authorities despite both men having suffered imprisonment at their hands. Having been born earlier, it is Panahi who is the better known and audiences in the UK have been able to see a higher proportion of his works. But Rasoulof did indeed make a mark with British audiences when his courageous drama Manuscripts Don't Burn (2013) was released and a subsequent work of his, 2020’s There Is No Evil, provided evidence that he could give us something great. That film was not itself a full masterpiece however because, while having a common theme throughout, it comprised four distinct sections and they proved to be of uneven quality. Nevertheless, the film’s superb opening episode was a masterly portrait of the everyday life of an Iranian family. Its success suggested that a naturalistic and realistic approach brought out the very best in Rasoulof.
The Seed of the Sacred Fig is again centred on an Iranian family and we see them at their home in Tehran and later away from the city in a remote spot where the father, Iman (Misagh Zare), had spent his childhood. The other members of his family are his wife Najmeh (Soheila Golestani) and his two daughters, 21-year-old Rezvan (Mahsa Rostami) and her younger sister, Sana (Setareh Maleki), who is attending a local secondary school. Iman himself, a deeply religious man, has worked for twenty years or more as a loyal civil servant and has just learnt that he is to be promoted at last. This step up gives him the status of an investigating inspector for the revolutionary court but it happens in 2022 at the very time when Iran has become deeply unsettled with protesters taking to the streets following the death in custody of Jina Mahsa Amini the young woman who was arrested for failing to wear a hijab as required.
The story now continues by showing increasing tensions within Iman’s family. He himself for all his devotion to the regime soon becomes troubled since his new position proves to be one in which he is expected to sign off cases leading to death sentences without first studying the relevant papers. As for Najmeh, she has always shared his beliefs and in any case realises that to protect her husband in his new post his family must be seen to be above suspicion and need to be strictly circumspect in all their ways. She not only insists on this when instructing her daughters on their daily behaviour but is strongly disapproving when Rezvan seeks to be protective of a college friend, Sadaf (Niousha Akhshi), who, like many of the younger generation, is sympathetic to the protesters. When Sadaf gets caught up in the crowds that are being put down by the authorities and suffers an injury, Rezvan and her mother are at odds about what to do.
Rasoulof’s film is a long one (167 minutes) but at least half of it is highly effective in its portrayal of the home life of this family at a time when outside events are inevitably having a major impact on them. By an odd coincidence The Seed of the Sacred Fig is not the only 2025 Oscar contender that chooses to look at significant historical events through their impact on one particular family. In I'm Still Here Walter Salles has adopted exactly the same approach when dramatising the history of an actual family living in Brazil in the 1970s during that country’s military dictatorship. Both that film and this one create wholly believable characters with whom viewers can readily identify and by doing so bring home the impact of the horrifying political situation that has their country in its grip. Rasoulof’s film is particularly adroit in gaining sympathy for his characters because much of the tension indoors results from the conflicting viewpoints held by parents and their children and from the familiar problem of the older generation doing too little or too much to shape or control their offspring. It's helpful too that Iman is presented initially with some subtlety: a man supportive of the regime but starting to have real doubts about their methods while yet aware that to take a stand about it could endanger himself and his ability to look after his family.
The first half of The Seed of the Sacred Fig is akin to that first section of There Is No Evil being wholly realistic in tone and looking set to be a masterpiece. However, less understandably than in the earlier film for this is all one narrative, the second half of this new piece changes tone and loses the acute sense of naturalism which despite the metaphor contained in its title has been a key factor up to that point. It has already been established that in order to provide Iman with some self-protection a colleague of his (Reza Akhlaghirad) has given him a gun and around the film’s midway point that gun goes missing in the house. Dramatic music suddenly features as father comes to believe that Najmeh, Rezvan or Sana must be responsible even though all three deny it. Then in a surprisingly docile way the daughters accept what Iman describes as a psychotherapy session set up for them, this being in reality an interrogation by a friend who is an official expert in that field and which Iman thinks may help to identify the culprit. In fact, it leads to no clear outcome but almost at once leaked information identifying Iman and his family causes them to retreat into the countryside fearful of being violently targeted by protesters. For a while the film portrays that threat and also the possibility of paranoia affecting Iman in scenes which could come from a standard action thriller. Once the family are at Iman’s birthplace the by now overextended narrative plays around with the question of the thief’s identity in a manner that comes close to echoing Agatha Christie territory. Furthermore, we now find that Iman has become the all-out villain of the piece yet without any build-up of detail to make it fully persuasive. This is followed by a climax that plays out violently in a big set piece that utilises its location, that of ancient ruins, in a mode that makes one think of Hitchcock.
At the very end the film reverts to what I believe are actual video shots of protests and brutality in the streets but their presence only serves to underline how far the film has moved away from the apt tone of its first half. One could attempt to argue that the drama – one could even say melodrama – has by the close become symbolic, the climax to be seen as a metaphor for what is necessary to save Iran. But any such intention, if it indeed exists, is undermined by the film’s failure to move persuasively from one style into another. Consequently, we have half of a great film but one which then goes markedly awry. Nevertheless, we should savour those parts of it that work and give all credit to the courageous Rasoulof now working in Germany but who when filming this work in Iran had to do so under a veil of secrecy. This film is a brave and honourable venture and when it its best it is nothing short of magnificent.
Original title: Dâne-ye anjîr-e ma’âbed.
MANSEL STIMPSON
Cast: Soheila Golestani, Misagh Zare, Setareh Maleki, Mahsa Rostami, Niousha Akhshi, Reza Akhlaghigrad, Shiva Ordooie, Mohammad Kamal Alavi, Parisa Mohyedini, Varat Azimi, Amineh Arani.
Dir Mohammad Rasoulof, Pro Mohammad Rasoulof, Amin Sadraei, Jean-Christophe Simon, Mani Tilgner and Rozita Hendijanian, Screenplay Mohammad Rasoulof, Ph Pooyan Aghababaei, Pro Des Amir Panahifar, Ed Andrew Bird, Music Karzan Mahmood, Costumes Nazanin Tavassoli.
Run Way Pictures/Parallel45/Arte France Cinéma/Arte France/Films Boutique-Lionsgate.
167 mins. France/Germany. 2024. US Rel: 27 November 2024. UK Rel: 7 February 2025. Cert. 15.
