Ficus Religiosa is a tree with an unusual life cycle. Its seeds, contained in bird droppings, fall on other trees. Aerial roots spring up and grow down to the floor. Then, the branches wrap around the host tree and strangle it. Finally, the sacred fig stands on its own.
This epigraph that opens The Seed of the Sacred Fig, and the title itself, are initially somewhat opaque – it isn’t clear how they relate to the film you’re watching. But eventually, the metaphor clarifies. The Seed of the Sacred Fig is about generational change. Change doesn’t happen without struggle – those in power will always resist it. But eventually, change can take hold, strangle out old ideas, and stand on its own.
The generational change takes place in a nuclear family of sorts. Iman, the father, has just been promoted to the position of investigator in Tehran’s court system. His employers provide him with a handgun. His wife, Najmeh, makes it clear to their daughters, Rezvan and Sana, that they need to lead conservative and careful lives as they will be under more scrutiny and danger.
One of Rezvan’s friends, Sadaf, joins the nationwide political protests in response to the death of Mahsa Amini, who was beaten to death by the Iranian police for violation of Iran’s mandatory hijab law. Sadaf is shot during a protest and takes temporary refuge with Rezvan’s family, leading to a confrontation between Rezvan and Iman. A short time later, Iman’s gun goes missing, leading him to suspect that someone in the family has stolen it.
The Seed of the Sacred Fig’s strength lies in the balance of its characters. You spend significant time with all four family members, but it shifts throughout the film – you’ll spend half an hour primarily from one perspective at times, but then shift back to others.
Each family member comes to represent a different attitude or perspective present in Iranian culture. There’s a metaphorical aspect to each of them, but they still each have some individuality. They feel human, rather than just being a point the movie is trying to make.
The runtime is essential here – great care is taken in setting up the characters so that you know them and feel like you understand them. The core inciting incident that drives the conflict and thriller aspects of the back half of the movie is the handgun going missing, but it takes nearly a full hour until this happens. You come to understand the national political situation before the family comes to reflect it. Tensions simmer before they boil.
The father, Iman, gets the traditional descent into madness character arc, and comes to represent the oppression of the authoritarian regime. Importantly, though, he starts the movie in moral opposition to unethical practices of the courts he is asked to participate in, so he initially seems sympathetic. However, you come to realize over the course of the movie that he has an authoritarian attitude that’s been shielded from his children by his wife.
The “wife” character can be pretty thankless in film, but the way this movie structures Najmeh’s character gives her plenty to do. In the opening act, while Iman works long hours, Najmeh spends significant time with her children, revealing some key ideological differences. Najmeh is very critical of the demonstrations, and is much more prone to trust the state-run television news broadcasts, while her daughters get conflicting information from social media.
Najmeh is essentially the glue that holds the family together – she goes to great lengths to smooth family relationships and to keep her daughters unassociated with the protest movement. This loyalty to her husband wins her no trust from him, and she must eventually choose how to respond to his increasingly paranoid and indefensible behavior.
The Seed of the Sacred Fig handles the sibling dynamic cleverly, with Rezvan doing most of the heavy lifting early, and Sana playing a key role down the stretch. They both start the film pretty compliant, but through their friend Sadaf and the horrific images they are seeing on social media they begin to challenge their parents.
The film really captures what it’s like to experience the world through your phone – particularly, things that enrage you. Importantly, actual footage of the Mahsa Amini protests is shown throughout the film. Rezvan, in particular, is shown to be constantly checking her phone but is unable to participate in any activism, leading to a feeling of powerlessness.
The Seed of the Sacred Fig is smartly paced. It gives time for the characters to breathe initially, providing depth. But increasingly, as tensions rise, it begins to incorporate more elements of suspense, transforming into nearly a full-blown thriller in its last act. This transition feels like a natural progression arising from the increasing rifts in the family.
There’s too much substance to The Seed of the Sacred Fig to focus solely on the story of the film’s production, but it is remarkable. It was filmed in secret, and Mohammad Rasoulof, the film’s director, had to flee the country in advance of its premiere at the Cannes Film Festival. This remarkable act of courage against censorship from the production team led to a film that could not otherwise exist. It is deeply embedded in Iranian culture and deeply critical of its government, and it is a marvel that it exists.
