Like There Is No Evil, director Mohammad Rasoulof’s 2021 examination of Iran’s harsh death penalty, The Seed of the Sacred Fig was once again shot in secret and smuggled out of the country. This time, however, Rasoulof was forced to flee before the film could be edited, as he was sentenced by an Iranian court to eight years in prison for “propaganda against the regime.” Some of his cast and crew made it out too, but many of them are still in Iran under strict orders not to leave. Meanwhile, The Seed of the Sacred Fig was edited in Germany, where Rasoulof’s escape from Iran eventually led him, and screened at film festivals around the world, much to the annoyance of the Iranian government. It is unknown whether the director will ever be able to return to his native country.
The Seed of the Sacred Fig begins as Iman (Missagh Zareh), an honest but ambitious lawyer, is appointed a judgeship in Iran’s Revolutionary Court. Part of his new job is to expedite the sentencing of accused criminals, many of whom are young protestors at odds with the government over its theocratic rule, without properly examining any of the evidence. That most of the crimes coming across his desk carry the death penalty forces a moral dilemma in Iman that spills over into his family life.
Iman’s wife Najmeh (Soheila Golestani) and their daughters Rezvan and Sana (Mahsa Rostami and Setareh Maleki) are supportive for a time, especially considering his new job comes with more money and a larger apartment. However, they begin to grow apprehensive when they are instructed not to discuss anything about what their father does for a living (for their own safety, they’re told), where they live, or question why there is now a gun in the house.
Set during the mass protests and brutal crackdowns that swept across Iran in 2022 and 2023, The Seed of the Sacred Fig intersperses cell phone footage from these events to not only drive home the chaos and upheaval of those tumultuous times but to expertly present the growing generational divide over Iran’s dogmatic laws. As Rezvan and Sana slowly begin to sympathize with the protests, Najmeh blindly defends the internalized patriarchy she’s lived with her entire life. But cracks in her resolve and doubts about the system increasingly grow, culminating in a final act that transforms The Seed of the Sacred Fig from a taut, family-driven political thriller into something that more closely resembles survival horror.
Often, it’s when art mirrors life that cinema is at its most emotionally raw, and Rasoulof has proven once again his ability to mold controversial subject matter into something so visceral you have no choice but to feel it in your bones. That he’s risking his life and freedom to bring these subjects to light easily makes him one of the boldest and important filmmakers living today. We owe it to him to see his films. How you make a movie this beautiful and this poignant completely in secret is beyond me, but for all our sakes, I sincerely hope Mohammad Rasoulof never sways from his mission.
James is a writer, skateboarder, record collector, wrestling nerd, and tabletop gamer living with his family in Asheville, North Carolina. He is a member of the Southeastern Film Critics Association, the North Carolina Film Critics Association, and contributes to The Daily Orca, Razorcake Magazine, Mountain Xpress, and Asheville Movies.