The Seed of the Sacred Fig

“The Seed of the Sacred Fig,” directed by Mohammad Rasoulof and showcased at Cannes 2024, was widely regarded as a strong contender for the Best Film. However, it ultimately lost to “Anora.” While undeniably a great film, it offered a more accessible narrative, free of political controversy, making it an arguably safer choice for the jury.

Rasoulof, a provocative and fearless filmmaker, was imprisoned in 2022 during the “Woman, Life, Freedom” movement, which swept across Iran following the tragic death of Mahsa Amini, a 22-year-old arrested for allegedly wearing her hijab improperly.

Shot in secret in his hometown, “The Seed of the Sacred Fig” reflects both the personal and political turmoil he endured. After being forced to flee Iran, Rasoulof sought asylum in Germany, where his daughter resides. There, he completed the film’s post-production, bringing to life a story deeply entwined with the context of his exile and the broader struggle for freedom and justice in the Country.

At nearly three hours, the film is a slow-burning, profoundly moving meditation on repression, resistance, and transformation. Though set within a family drama, it transcends the personal, evolving into a powerful metaphor for the state of Iran in the wake of the 2022 protests sparked by Mahsa Amini’s death.

The title itself carries layers of meaning. The sacred fig tree, or banyan, is revered in many cultures as a symbol of resilience, renewal, and enlightenment. The “seed” represents the potential for growth and change, even under suffocating conditions. Rasoulof transforms this imagery into a delicate yet resonant symbol of collective yearning for freedom and justice in a society shackled by fear and control.

The narrative begins with Iman (Misagh Zare), a civil servant whose promotion takes an unsettling turn when he becomes an inspector - a role synonymous with interrogating young protesters and approving death sentences for dissenters. His wife, Najmeh (Soheila Golestani), initially supports his ambitions, pressuring their daughters, Rezvan (Mahsa Rostami) and Sana (Setareh Maleki), to adhere to strict codes of behavior, such as staying off social media.

Najmeh also disapproves of their friend Sadaf’s (Niousha Akhshi) independent and free-spirited nature. However, the family’s fragile unity shatters when tragedy strikes during a demonstration against compulsory hijab, Sadaf is shot in the face. Najmeh and her daughters secretly bring her into their house to administer first aid, concealing the incident from Iman.

As tension rises, the rift between parents and daughters deepens. Soon after, Sadaf is arrested. At the same time, Iman - issued a gun by the government for family protection - discovers the weapon has mysteriously vanished. Already ill-prepared to handle the firearm responsibility, Iman grows paranoid, suspecting that one of the women in his family has taken it and is hiding the truth from him.

The story juxtaposes the family’s unravelling with the oppressive environment of Iranian society, offering a poignant allegory for the nation’s collective struggle. The father’s authoritarian rule mirrors the state’s iron grip, while the women of the family engage in quiet yet courageous acts of resistance, fighting for autonomy within a suffocating system.

Rasoulof masterfully weaves the personal and the political, using the family’s descent into paranoia and mistrust as a reflection of Iran’s broader unravelling. Every suppressed truth whispered accusation, and violent outburst mirrors a society grappling with fear, surveillance, and control.

Rasoulof’s cinematography skillfully amplifies the tension, juxtaposing the stifling claustrophobia of the family’s home with fleeting, bittersweet glimpses of the outside world. Shadows, confined spaces, and lingering shots of silent expressions convey a haunting mix of despair and resilience, immersing viewers in the oppressive reality of those who dare to resist. The inclusion of real recorded footage adds an unsettling authenticity, further underscoring the film’s profound and poignant message.

The performances are raw and deeply human, particularly the matriarch’s quiet strength, which emerges as a beacon of hope amid the bleakness. The younger characters embody a generational shift, yearning for freedom but paralyzed by fear, reflecting the tension between tradition and change.

“The Seed of the Sacred Fig” is more than a family drama - it is a profound exploration of a nation at a crossroads. The paranoia and mistrust within the household echo Iran’s societal breakdown, where fear of dissent and retribution pervades every aspect of life. Rasoulof critiques the hollow promises of progress while celebrating the quiet acts of defiance that keep hope alive.

This long-feature storytelling avoids simple resolutions, instead leaving viewers with a heartfelt sense of empathy and urgency. By examining the seeds of repression and resistance, the film underscores that what grows from them depends on the courage and resilience of those who plant them anew.

“The Seed of the Sacred Fig” is a poetic and unflinching reflection on personal and political struggles. Rasoulof has created a masterwork that mourns Iran’s present while daring to envision a better future. 

For anyone seeking to understand the human cost of authoritarianism and the enduring power of quiet rebellion, this film is a must-watch.