- Date of Release: 18 September 2024
- Genre: Crime, Drama
- Language: Persian
The Seed Of The Sacred Fig
Introduction
There is a reason why I am a huge admirer of films from Iran. It is now common knowledge that the filmmakers from Iran don’t use cinema just as a mode of entertainment. In fact, it is used for a far bigger purpose – to highlight the atrocities subjected to the people of Iran at the hands of the authorities by stationing their stories in the current political setup. This is a stark contrast to filmmakers here who just wish to ride on the current political wave while not doing enough to raise their voices to highlight important issues that need immediate attention (generally speaking). And so a stray comment about how great films are here as compared to Iranian films was a rather delusional statement by one of the finest actors of her times in the Industry (and this cannot be a universal statement either, cinema isn’t a medium of competition but a medium to watch and learn from others). If you do not acknowledge areas of improvement, then there won’t be any improvement, something cleverly shown in the Iranian film The Seed Of The Sacred Fig which is Germany’s Official Submission to the Oscars of 2025.
Story & Screenplay
The context with regard to the film’s title The Seed Of The Sacred Fig is establishment through lines at the very beginning on how the roots of the fig tree branch out and embrace the tree such that the tree eventually dies out. This context is used in a dual fashion in the film – one being the political state that Iran finds itself in with regard to the anti-establishment protests that have transpired through religious practices imposed on its people. The second being specifically to the characters in the film who are a part of the same family. And so, one of the most important aspects of the drama here is its characterization that doesn’t allow you to judge its characters based on their political affiliation right away. It slowly but surely starts off as a political drama before transitioning into a domestic drama with political undertones.
You are introduced to Iman (notice the name which means conscience) who is an honest and devout lawyer living a decent life with his family amidst the shifting political climate of the state. The latter is an important ingredient given that the setting is of modern day Iran who is privy to Instagram, Youtube and Facebook but still finds itself in the midst of regressions with respect to religion and its sentiments. Iman though is promoted as an investigating judge, a level below a judge with full powers, a job that comes with its set of restrictions – he must keep his life private along with his family, he must obey the laws of the country blindly with no questions asked, and most importantly, directly sign death warrants as instructed by the high command. This basically meant that he would be a puppet of the authorities, something that he resists initially before slowly transforming into a monster. But interestingly, the transformation is not sudden, and more internal. It almost comes off as a journey that is subconscious in nature, such that even Iman may not be self aware of his transformation. You see his grimacing in moments of self-reflection after having to sign almost 100 death warrants including that of a young 20 year old who was a part of a mob protest against religious practices in the state.
The other side of the political landscape is represented through Imam’s family comprising of his wife Najmeh, and his two young daughters Rezvan and Sana. The latter are essentially Gen-Zs who do not necessarily take everything at face value while always forming a habit of questioning the levels of suppression imposed on folks around them. They may not be active participants in the mob but they do follow the protests on their cellphones while often rebelling against their father on the dinner table who often berates them for enemy propoganda. But when their friend Sadaf, a participant in the mob against wearing the Hijab is shot in the face, they are the first ones to help. This, while Najmeh is often seen to be on the fence, a character that is repressed at her own home, often seen to be schooling her daughters while siding with her husband.
The proceedings are subtly tense with the levels of tension escalating with every minute. The transition of the drama from a political standpoint to a personal standpoint takes place when Iman’s gun is supposedly stolen, a classic Chekov’s first act conflict involving a gun, that sees the political climate shift to Iman’s own house. The lines are distinctly drawn even with pleas of innocence being sounded even as the larger political picture shifts to the second layer, while its traces come to the fore in a searing final act. The twists are turns might seem to be subdued but it is also reflective of the repercussions of ‘blindly’ complying with the orders without the right set of questions asked. Another interesting aspect of the drama is the shift of setting – Iman and his family are shown to live in Tehran, in a comforting home that is devoid of tensions escalating on the streets. In a sharp contrast, the tensions in the streets dry out while the change of homes is almost a depiction of the rot within. And yet, the bizarre finale is also symbolic of a mini political turmoil on how everyone stands to lose if the setup is that of repression with people being shackled by the society. The screenplay is provocative and very well penned.
Dialogues, Music & Direction
The dialogues are conversational but laced with a political commentary being further deconstructed in the war of ideologies. And the lines definitely enhance the impact of the drama. The BGM is minimalistic while allowing the viewers to drown in the raw surrounds of the state that further adds to the tension in the drama. The cinematography is excellent almost doubling up with the production design and lighting to portray a grim reality on the streets of Iran against a modern setting. The use of grey and yellow hues adds depth to the proceedings while offering a complex portrayal of impending politics in the state. The editing is quite goid while seamlessly transitioning from one scene to another while retaining the levels of tension as well. It is sad to know that director Mohammad Rasoulof is labeled as a fugitive in his own country. I can’t remotely fathom the amount of efforts gone into making this film which is essentially an anti-establishment drama. But this brave and bold attempt needs to be acknowledged and applauded. He doesn’t wish to only focus on the political commentary that majorly unfolds only in the background. His prime focus remains on his characters and their shifting dynamics in the wake of the changing political landscape of the country. And that remains his biggest victory as a director wherein the direction is excellent to the core.
Performances
The performances are wonderful by the ensemble cast, and I liked how different character are coated with different shades of paint related to their political affiliations, also based on their age demographics. Shiva Ordooie as Fateme has her moments to shine in a powerfully written character despite a limited screen time. Reza Akhlaghirad as Ghaderi is a character who is heavily influencial and a strong supporter of the authorities. And his ruthless nature is represented through his eyes that offer no remorse to anyone. Niousha Akhshi as Sadaf makes her presence felt and she delivers a commendable performance. Setareh Maleki as Sana uses silence as a virtue brilliantly with her character, and it is her impeccable screen presence that makes her standout amidst the crowd. Mahsa Rostami as Rezvan is brilliant to the core, using her facial expressions and body language wonderfully well to showcase the pain of her character being brought up in a repressed society. Missagh Zareh as Iman had a complex character arc that needed him to have an internal conflict without actually allowing it to come to the fore. And he was absolutely brilliant to witness, in what was one of the more organic performances that I have witnessed this year. Soheila Golestani as Najmeh had one of the most interesting conflicts of the drama – one that was political and personal, both at the same time. And she is tactful in her performance that wonderfully balances out both sides without weighing in on any particular side, more than the other. She was incredibly good and excellent in every sense of the word.
Conclusion
Germany’s Official Submission to the Oscars of 2025, The Seed Of The Sacred Fig is a tense domestic critique of life in Tehran laced with a searing political commentary on theocracy that makes for a brilliantly pondering watch. Highly Recommended!
