The Seed of the Sacred Fig (15) |Close-Up Film Review

The story follows Iman (Missagh Zareh), a man whose ambition blinds him to the dangers of the path he is taking. On the verge of becoming an investigating judge in Tehran, he sees his appointment as a step toward prestige and security for his family.

However, as political unrest erupts across the city, his new position proves far more perilous than he had anticipated. His rulings hold life-and-death consequences, and soon, the paranoia that grips the streets begins seeping into his own home.

At first, Iman tries to maintain a sense of normalcy with his wife Najmeh (Soheila Golestani) and their two daughters, Rezvan (Mahsa Rostami) and Sana (Setareh Maleki). But as his paranoia escalates, so does the tension within the household. He starts suspecting those around him—colleagues, neighbours, even his own wife and children. Every whispered conversation, every lingering glance fuels his growing distrust. His attempts to maintain control turn desperate, and as the city outside descends further into chaos, so does Iman’s psyche.

Rasoulof’s direction ensures that we feel every ounce of Iman’s fear, his increasing isolation, and his inability to distinguish between real threats and imagined betrayals. The family home, once a refuge, becomes a prison. Every shadow, every moment of silence carries unbearable weight. The film builds toward an emotionally devastating climax, one that is as inevitable as it is tragic.

I first experienced The Seed of the Sacred Fig at the 2024 London Film Festival, an environment that only amplified its impact. Luckily, I had my notepad with me that evening, and I found myself scribbling furiously, trying to articulate the depth of what I was witnessing. How does one creatively capture a film so layered, so quietly suffocating, yet so poetic in its execution?

Rasoulof’s ability to craft such an intimate yet politically charged film—while evading censorship—feels nothing short of remarkable. The cinematography, with its claustrophobic framing and dimly lit interiors, mirrors Iman’s deteriorating state of mind. The performances are nothing short of exceptional, with Missagh Zareh delivering a haunting portrayal of a man consumed by fear, while Soheila Golestani provides a quiet but powerful counterbalance as his increasingly disillusioned wife.

The Seed of the Sacred Fig is more than just a political thriller; it is a deeply human story about trust, power, and the cost of obedience. It demands patience, engagement, and reflection—something I found utterly fascinating from the moment the first scene unfolded.