FILM REVIEW: “The Seed of the Sacred Fig” is a fiery cocktail of grief and triumph
To get it out of the way, this film rocks. Briefs, headlines and reviews will not do it justice: this film covers both a timely and eternal struggle with such clarity, focus and volume, that there’s no way to take it in one sitting. Mohammad Rasoulouf’s The Seed of the Sacred Fig is vital viewing, and hopefully, the list of prizes and nominations go some way in convincing you, also. One of those nominations is as Germany’s submission for the 97th Academy Awards. Though hailing from Iran (where The Seed… was secretly filmed under seemingly impossible circumstances, the work of the revolutionary filmmakers had to be smuggled over to Hamburg for post-production. At the same time, Rasoulof - no stranger to governmental silencing - faced a sentence of eight years, flogging, a fine, and property confiscation. By means of a 28-day escape on foot, Rasoulof also left the country. The risk to the cast, crew, and supporters of The Seed of the Sacred Fig cannot be overstated, as the floundering Iranian regime continues to pursue absolute control of a people that have been resisting for over 40 years. In an age so inundated with the complexity, knowledge and trauma of oppression across the globe, it is immensely inspiring to bear witness to a war cry for future freedom.
This same tension and courage resonate in each scene and symbol, and the hefty runtime feels entirely justified once the film picks up momentum. From the get-go, a nuanced and sympathetic depiction of the family brings even an unfamiliar audience rapidly into the wider socio-political conversation of the politically conscious in Tehran. The script, witty and symbolic in turn, translates the grit of The Seed of the Sacred Fig’s convictions with such pragmatism that it transcends cultural context. The confusion and family conflict in Act 1 lay bare the universality of the generational rift. Missagh Zareh plays Iman, the patriarch, without fault. Truly, his delivery captures all the hyperbolic insecurity and ignorance of an ageing generation as well as any Facebook forum. In his performance beats the blind heart of misogynistic patriarchy, faltering between the need for comfort and control with sequences bordering on the experimental. His struggle with the responsibility and pressure of his proximity to power is tragic, but Iman soon loses his sensitivity, he becomes a numb extension of the regime, an unwilling albeit convincing antagonist. His attachment to a government (full of cardboard cutouts, empty hallways and more conversation about career protection than the death orders the employees are signing) above his own family is one of the first damning dominoes that topples.
At the risk of over-analysis, I’ll only suggest keeping an eye out for the narrative focus and the paired symbology of the film throughout. If that theory stands, the first third of the film deals with water and the lessening capacity to wash away the crime of complicity with ignorance. On the note of blood, squirmish viewers should be reassured that Rasoulof’s measured approach to violence is clever. While I was left wanting to look away at times, the intercut social media footage (real clips of real violence) is included in such a way that it maintains a punch without feeling gratuitous.
The second act’s focus is the phenomenal Soheila Golestani playing Najmeh and her unyielding motherly love, even as fear and resistance drive a wedge into the family she’s built for the last 20 years. She nails her slow reawakening to an internalised oppression. She clings to love, even when it drives her to irrationality, and it’s hard to imagine an execution more perfect. The Seed… at its midpoint, uses an interrogation sequence to reveal the danger of trust, and this feels like one of its boldest moments. Golestani puts on a heartbreaking show at this point, one amongst many moments that earned her a nomination for Best Actress at the Asia Pacific Awards. Rightfully so. The third and final act focuses appropriately on the youngest members of the family, as college-age Rezvan (Masha Rostami) and Sana (Setareh Maleki) attempt to reconcile the values of their upbringing with the oppression they finally possess the autonomy to challenge. It deals heavily with the idea of surveillance, the hypocrisy of oppression, and the use of the camera as a tool of resistance. The build and climax of this film defy expectations in its scale and intensity, but maintain a flow that doesn’t let up.
The technical elements of this film are simplistic but effective - strong choices that place the camera firmly within the psychological drama genre that the film sits, and The Seed of the Sacred Fig’s commitment to depicting the effects of stress keeps it fresh throughout. There’s far more to say about the sound and the visual poetry of Rasoulof’s newest work, but the point’s been made. Go watch it now or when it takes home the Academy Award (making that call!).
5 out of 5 stars
The Seed of the Sacred Fig is screening as part of the Lotterywest Perth Festival, which started on the 25th of November and will run until the 6th of April! Check out its full program here.
