The Seed of the Sacred Fig
Dāne-ye anjīr-e ma'ābed

Exiled Iranian writer/director Mohammad Rasoulof (Manuscripts Don't Burn, A Man of Integrity, There Is No Evil) is one of many independent filmmakers forced to work in secret and flee his country on account of his artistic output. Rasoulof has repeatedly been jailed for violating Iranian censorship regulations with his prior movies and was banned from working in or leaving the country during the production of this film. Movies made and released under conditions like this are often praised for the bravery of their creators rather than the power of the films themselves, but I think The Seed of the Sacred Fig easily qualifies as one of the year's best pictures, even without knowing anything about the circumstances surrounding its production and premiere at the Cannes Film Festival (as I didn't when I saw it).

Missagh Zareh stars as Iman, an upstanding lawyer who gets promoted to the position of investigating judge in Tehran's Revolutionary Court. Because of the nature of his new job approving the sentencing of political prisoners in an authoritarian government, he must remain anonymous in his job, carry a gun, and not disclose anything about his work to his friends and family. This is ostensibly for everyone's protection but also a convenient way for his superiors to keep him in line. It also instills a sense of suspicion and secretiveness into his formally balanced family life. The tensions in Iman's household reflect the mistrust, paranoia, and draconian clampdown gripping his nation. As political protests erupt in schools and on the streets outside his home, Iman grows to suspect the involvement of his wife, Najmeh (Soheila Golestani), and their two daughters, Rezvan (Mahsa Rostami) and Sana (Setareh Maleki), in the mysterious disappearance of the gun he's been issued. Iman and Najmeh, while they may privately disagree with many government policies, support the actions of the Islamic Republic of Iran as necessary to maintain law and order and cultural norms. Their daughters are far less subservient. Rezvan and Sana are glued to their cell phones, watching in shock and disgust as they follow the protests broadcast via social media, aware that men like their father will approve harsh judgments, even death sentences, on political protestors without assessing the evidence for themselves.

The more things escalate, the more intense the picture becomes, with its 168 minutes flying by. The shooting was conducted entirely in secret, and Rasoulof deftly mixes cellphone footage of actual protests into his fictional story. Less interested in creating suspense with surprise twists, Rasoulof opts for a shrewd narrative design that indirectly lays out what the film will do and then executes things exactly as they were foretold. This mirrors how most repressive regimes carry out their agendas as well as what wannabe repressive regimes are doing before taking power. They make you think you're crazy for believing they will do what they say they're gonna do. The film builds to an exciting climax that may strain credibility a tad but nonetheless makes for a profoundly satisfying conclusion to a narrative movie.