<Holy Spider> (2022, directed by Ali Abbasi) revealed the dark side of Iranian society by reflecting the serial killer 'Spider' who murdered 16 women and the various layers of supporters who protected him, and it has been less than three years since then. Adapted from real events that occurred between 2000 and 2001, what can be added to this absurd play that pessimistically portrays the future for those who remain? This is the reason I had avoided watching <The Seed of the Sacred Tree> (2024) for a while. A sense of resignation arose that the suffering of women could not change.
However, the Iranian women in the film, whom I faced again after its release, were clearly different from before. They believe that the truth of the struggle for life and freedom lies in Instagram reels and YouTube shorts, searching on YouTube for how to pull the trigger to protect their bodies. Their existence testifies that resistance has evolved in new ways, and that the times have already changed. This is why the film <The Seed of the Sacred Tree> calls Iranian women back as subjects of struggle, saying it is too early to despair.
The film unfolds against the backdrop of the 'Hijab Revolution' that shook Iran in 2022. The incident in which 22-year-old Mahsa Amini was detained by the morality police for not wearing her hijab properly and subsequently died was officially announced as a death due to pre-existing conditions, but witness testimonies of death by beating followed, causing social outrage. This false announcement soon spread into nationwide protests under the slogan “Women, Life, Freedom,” and the anti-hijab movement expanded into a resistance that directly targeted the Iranian regime. <The Seed of the Sacred Tree> emotionally bases itself on this historical reality, meticulously tracing the process by which intense street resistance causes the collapse of middle-class families and ethical conflicts.
Iman (Misagh Zare) finds himself in a political position where he is promoted to investigative judge during the time when the anti-hijab protests were being suppressed, actively cooperating in the suppression of protests. Under the pretext of 'family safety,' he is given firearms, and his daily life, loyal to the regime, reaches a stage where he demands the death penalty without hesitation. However, the act of determining the fate of others does not flow without emotional impact. The inner turmoil deepens, and the cracks in morality lead to sleepless nights. This anxiety does not remain merely a personal conscience but amplifies into conflicts within the family. In particular, his two daughters, Rezvan (Mahsa Rostami) and Sana (Setareh Maleki), begin to directly question their father's values through political awakening against the regime. Those who have opened their eyes to the truth of the outside world through smartphone videos and social media declare that they will no longer remain confined to the order of the household.
The eldest daughter Rezvan gradually acquires clearer political language influenced by her peers and grows into a subject that denies the regime, while the youngest Sana reveals her judgment through quiet observation and practice rather than language. In particular, the character of Sana, who takes direct action, perfectly overlaps with the image of teenage women who played a central role in the Hijab Revolution. Sana represents a new subject in the rapidly changing Iranian society, namely the 'next generation that has begun to raise its voice,' showing the reality of the turning point where Iman's authority collapses and a new ethics takes root. While the film intricately weaves the perspectives of female characters, Iman's wife Nazmeh (Soheila Golestani) appears as a character who struggles to maintain family stability by conforming to the regime. Her attitude of comforting her husband and suppressing her daughters may seem conservative on the surface, but it is, in fact, a desperate survival method to prevent the direction of violence from turning inward within the family under patriarchal power. Her silence and patience, which may sometimes appear as obsession, present a complex portrait of how women try to protect their lives between the regime and the family.
The awakening to absurdity intensifies during the process in which Nazmeh treats Rezvan's friend Sadaf (Niusha Akhsh) who has a bullet fragment lodged in her face. The scene where Nazmeh removes the bullet fragment from Sadaf's face is presented in an overwhelming close-up. This scene, which implies that violence has entered the home and that daily life can no longer be peaceful, symbolically shows that the cracks in society have reached the most private spaces. Subsequently, the cracks within the family become even clearer. Rezvan asserts, "The broadcasts are all lies," while Iman still advocates the legitimacy of state power. This conflict soon transitions into an incident where the gun disappears from the house, raising the narrative tension to its peak. The missing gun serves as a device that drives suspense in the story and symbolizes Iman's loss of control and prestige as the head of the family. Disarmed, Iman senses the cracks in the regime and power he has represented and goes on a rampage. Thus, the once harmonious family collapses in an instant.
<The Seed of the Sacred Tree> is a 'hybrid of genres' intertwined with documentary, thriller, suspense, and social critique. Tension escalates around the object of the gun, families collapse, and the truths of the streets are inserted in a documentary format. Although the forms may seem disparate, their hybridity resembles the complexity of reality itself. Renowned director Mohammad Rasoulof, who has sharply dissected the absurdities of Iranian society through films such as <The Man of Determination> (2017), which received the Un Certain Regard award at the 70th Cannes Film Festival, and <There Is No Evil> (2020), which won the Golden Bear at the 70th Berlin International Film Festival, masterfully combines political narrative and cinematic experimentation in this work as well. However, this film does not remain merely a film. The Iranian authorities sentenced the director to 8 years in prison, lashes, and confiscation of property simply because an actress did not wear her hijab properly during filming and because the film was produced with the intent to commit crimes against national security. Consequently, the director found himself at a crossroads between imprisonment and exile, ultimately heading to Europe across borders, and the film became a product of existential struggle in itself.
The actors were no exception. Soheila Golestani, who played Iman's wife Nazmeh, also faced the threat of 74 lashes and a one-year prison sentence for appearing in this film, and is currently under house arrest in Tehran, banned from attending award ceremonies and engaging in international activities. The two actresses, Mahsa Rostami and Setareh Maleki, who played the roles of Iman's daughters and escaped Iran to attend the Cannes Film Festival with director Mohammad Rasoulof, have also chosen exile and are currently residing in Berlin, Germany.
The 2024 Cannes Film Festival established a 'Special Jury Prize' to honor the significance of this film. The one film you must witness right now, <The Seed of the Sacred Tree>, was released on June 3 and is currently showing in theaters.
