Mohammad Rasoulof’s cinema has long been defined by its courage in exposing the cracks within an authoritarian system that seeks to control every aspect of its citizens’ lives. In The Seed of the Sacred Fig, the director immerses us in a family drama that, beyond its apparent intimacy, becomes a representation of the deep ideological and moral divisions that fracture contemporary Iranian society.
The home of Iman and Najmeh becomes the stage for a collision between two opposing worldviews. While Iman, an ambitious judge rising through the ranks of the state apparatus, defends the structures of power that have served him, his daughters, Rezvan and Sana, watch in horror as violent repression is inflicted on protesters. This conflict does not erupt explosively from the outset; instead, Rasoulof builds it with subtlety, revealing how silences and unspoken gestures carry as much weight as direct confrontations. The film avoids easy sentimentality, grounding its drama in the tension between the everyday and the unbearable.
What stands out in The Seed of the Sacred Fig is that, although politics runs through every scene, the film never becomes a mere manifesto. Rather than resorting to grand speeches, Rasoulof focuses on small confrontational moments in which ideology crumbles in the face of harsh reality. In a pivotal scene, Rezvan challenges her father with a simple declaration: “You are wrong.” No elaborate arguments are needed, as truth asserts itself with the force of the obvious. The generational rift is beyond repair.
The film avoids solemnity by incorporating elements of the thriller, expanding its scope into a realm of paranoia and latent danger. The figure of the interrogator, the invisible threat of the State, and the implicit violence in every encounter with authority transform the narrative into a reflection of the fear that pervades Iranian society. But perhaps the most disturbing aspect is how violence is not limited to the bodies in the streets—it seeps into the most intimate relationships, into the family bonds that begin to crack under the weight of repression.
Rasoulof not only exposes the brutality of the regime but also highlights the difficult task of breaking the bonds of complicity that allow such a system to endure. The Seed of the Sacred Fig offers no easy answers—only the portrait of a reality where the desire for freedom constantly collides with the fear instilled across generations.
