The Seed of the Sacred Fig (Dâne-ye anjîr-e ma'âbed)

 

Writer/director Mohammad Rasoulof

 Rasoulof at Cannes, photos are actors who are forbidden to leave Iran

Mahsa Amini

THE SEED OF THE SACRED FIG (Dâne-ye anjîr-e ma'âbed)       B-                                France  Germany  (167 mi)  2024  ‘Scope  d: Mohammad Rasoulof

Dictatorial systems succeed and are maintained over time not because of the leaders, but because of the middle management who carry out and often amplify their orders.  The regime is using religion as a political tool, and my films focus on this indoctrination.  The Islamic Republic is a dictatorship that has taken Iranians hostage; repression is its essence.  Any announcement of change is just propaganda.  If they can, they will eliminate any opponent, but I don’t spend a second of my life thinking about it.

—Writer/director Mohammad Rasoulof

Mohammad Rasoulof is a filmmaker with a storied past, interweaving the personal with the political, arrested multiple times, initially accused, along with Jafar Panahi, director of No Bears (Khers nist) (2022), of filming without a permit in 2009, then he was arrested in 2010 for filming a movie about The Green Movement, specifically the protests following the allegedly stolen 2009 presidential elections, which he never finished, where his films were declared “propaganda against the system,” convicted of “intending to commit crimes against the security of the country,” one of several high-profile Iranian filmmakers to be arrested, censored, and condemned by the Iranian regime for his art.  Unfortunately, this kind of thing is the reality in Iran today, which has a long history of corruption and brutality, leading to significant uprisings, including the revolution that brought the Islamic Republic into power in 1979, the 2009 Iranian Green Movement to protest massive fraud in the presidential elections, the 2019 uprising over rising gasoline prices, and now the protests that erupted since the death of Mahsa (Jina) Amini, leading to the Woman, Life, Freedom movement in 2022, mostly women under the age of 25, where the rallying cry has been “Zan, Zendegi, Azadi,” or women, life, freedom, with more than 500 deaths (at least 69 of them children) reported after Iranian security forces fired live ammunition into crowds and killed even more protesters by beating them with batons, where thousands more were subjected to interrogation, arbitrary detention, unjust prosecution, and imprisonment for peacefully exercising their human rights.  The Iranian government, which currently provides drones to the Russian army to bomb Ukraine, by the way, has only intensified its efforts to suppress the fundamental rights of women and girls and crush remaining initiatives of women’s activism, with Amini’s lawyers arrested and ordered to serve a year in prison, while executions in Iran have significantly increased, with a record number of 853 death sentences in 2023 (Iran: Two years after 'Woman Life Freedom' uprising ...).  Stoking the flames of punitive retaliation, Iran’s authoritative judiciary has become a tool of repression and fear, part of a long history of suppressing political opposition, criticism of the country’s human rights record, and other peaceful forms of dissent, using religion as a weapon, where civil servants act against their own consciences and enforce dubious judgments in order not to endanger their own standard of living, which results in the entire Iranian population being held hostage.  Notably, the film also marks the first time since the establishment of the Islamic Republic that Iranian actresses appear onscreen without wearing the mandatory hijab, a detail which carries a tremendous symbolic significance both for the regime and the Iranian public, though they are barred from ever seeing the film.  The maker of The White Meadows (Keshtzar haye sepid) (2009), Goodbye (Bé omid é didar) (2011), Manuscripts Don't Burn (Dast-neveshtehaa nemisoosand) (2013), and 2020 Top Ten List #2 There Is No Evil (Sheytan vojud nadarad) (2020), Rasoulof has had to continuously deal with the security apparatus of Iran, twice serving time in Iranian jails, over a month in solitary confinement, finally exhausting his appeals, ultimately sentenced to eight years in prison as well as a flogging, a fine, and confiscation of his property, which led him to flee the country, crossing the mountains on foot, leaving behind all his electronic devices to avoid being traced, hiding in safe houses before arriving in Hamburg, Germany 28 days after leaving Tehran, where going into exile was something that was never considered until the very last minute, having only two hours to decide, leaving everything else behind.  As a result, this film is Germany’s submission as Best International Film for the Academy Awards, having been made primarily in Iran, but smuggled out of the country, financed, and completed in Germany, which has become the director’s new adopted home, having studied film there as a young man, while his daughter, Baran Rasoulof, who starred in THERE IS NO EVIL, has lived there for years.

Made entirely in secret to evade a previous legal ban that prohibited Rasoulof from making films, with post-production done remotely, this won a Special Jury Award at the 2024 Cannes Film Festival, shown on the very last day, receiving plenty of acclaim for demonstrating a ferocity of spirit and for simply being made at all, yet the film is about as subtle as a runaway bulldozer, where the heavy-handed moralistic approach may leave some cold, as realism is transformed into symbolism, which is so obvious that it is borderline ridiculous, carrying little emotional power.  At nearly three hours long, this meandering morality tale can feel overlong and relentlessly exhausting, making the same point over and over again, becoming a battering ram on the brain, with the filmmaker having a love affair with posted cellphone footage of the protests, where unfortunately he’s not much of a character builder, as his characters don’t really seem real, instead they serve other purposes, personifying allegorical themes instead of any authentic naturalism, which has always been an essential component of the best Iranian films.  Beginning with a story parable, the title refers to an invasive species of fig tree that spreads by “wrapping itself around another tree and eventually strangling it,” seen as a symbol of the theocratic regime in Iran, where more than anything this exposes the toxic patriarchy that is suffocating the life out of its own people.  Written by the director, whose entire career represents continued attempts to understand the authoritarian mindset, the film becomes a political allegory for the relationship between the Iranian state and its people, superimposing the real threats of a brutal theocracy with the fictional story of one family’s struggle under its absolutist rule.  An overtly political film is mixed with a complex, psychological chamber drama, where the internal and external factors become so intermingled that they are virtually indistinguishable, creating a moral conundrum for all involved, where the first two hours of the film take place almost exclusively in the claustrophobic, prison-like confines of a family apartment in Tehran, with poorly lit rooms, the curtains always closed, completely cut off from the combustible force happening right outside on the streets below.  Led by family patriarch Iman (Missagh Zareh), he was recently appointed as an investigator to the Revolutionary court in Tehran, a prestigious position that traditionally leads to becoming a judge, where his wife Najmeh (Soheila Golestani, who was herself arrested in 2022 for demonstrating against Amini’s death) is ecstatic at the prospects of becoming economically secure for life, offering the best possible chance of a better life for their two adolescent daughters, Rezvan (Mahsa Rostami), just entering university, and Sana (Setareh Maleki), who is still in high school, two strong and independent-minded daughters.  Iman initially has misgivings, however, as he’s asked to sign off on death sentences with no investigation and no trial, without even reading the case file, an act his predecessor refused, which created the job opening.  Just as ominously, Iman is given a gun by the government for self-protection, as court officials are often targeted by disgruntled families, placing them at risk.  The film adheres to Anton Chekhov’s narrative principle, described as Chekhov's gun, which suggests that “If in the first act you have hung a pistol on the wall, then in the following one it should be fired.  Otherwise don’t put it there.”  Arriving in court at the crack of dawn and not returning until late at night, the court is literally swamped by an avalanche of arrests from the outpouring of protests following the death of a young 22-year old girl, Mahsa Amini (never named in the film), who authorities claimed suffered a heart attack, yet she was severely beaten and died of head injuries while in police custody several days after she was arrested in Tehran by members of the country’s Basiji, or morality police, for violating hijab laws, not for refusing to wear a hijab, but for “not wearing it properly.”  The outrage this generates is unprecedented, much of it captured on cellphones and posted on the internet, where the brutality of the images contrasts with the state news coverage that blames it all on a conspiracy of disobedient lawbreakers who want to overthrow the regime, yet the protests were unlike any the country had seen before, and the most widespread revolt since the Islamic Revolution in 1979.

There’s enough foreshadowing in this film to fill all the holes in Albert Hall, where Najmeh is nauseatingly persistent in warning her daughters about the dangers of going on social media or associating with the “wrong” kind of person, as that reflects upon their father’s profession, where any little slipup could derail his career.  “You must be irreproachable,” she warns.  They constantly get harangued with these warnings, each time with greater urgency than the last, but in the secrecy of their bedrooms they spend their time watching cellphone coverage of the protests, witnessing the civil unrest unfolding in real time, where they can see for themselves the television coverage is blatantly false, as the police are simply bashing heads and making sweeping arrests.  When one of Rezvan’s friends living in the university dormitory gets shot in the face with buckshot from a random shot at the students by the police, they are aghast, bringing Sadaf (Niousha Akhshi) home for medical care, as any visit to the hospital would result in her arrest, forcing Najmeh to secretly come to the girl’s aid, cleaning the wound, meticulously removing each pellet, where the camera holds on her battered and bloody face for what feels like an eternity, literally rubbing viewers face with the grotesque nature of the catastrophe, where there is simply no looking away from the crime.  Returning back to the dormitory, she is arrested shortly afterwards and goes missing, as Rezvan sums it up, “They took her beauty – and her future.”  While they keep this incident from Iman, who would not approve, things go off the rails when Iman loses his gun, reminiscent of Akira Kurosawa’s STRAY DOG (1949), frantically searching the house, going through every nook and cranny, turning the entire living space upside down, like a police search, creating chaos in the ranks, which only grows more incendiary when the girls have the unmitigated gall to question their father, who mirrors the Iranian state by blaming it all on criminal deviants, as that’s what he spends his entire time doing, each and every day, working under extreme pressure, signing off on sentences sending protesters to jail or even to death sentences, but the girls know better, part of a generational divide, and this perturbs their father, creating division in the ranks, with Iman proclaiming “Faith knows no questions.”  While we never see Iman at work, what we do see is chillingly surreal, as just walking the hallways reveals giant cardboard cutouts of various Iranian martyrs and dignitaries, whose shadow presence looms over the proceedings.  One of the most surprising images comes when Iman stops his car at a red light and exchanges looks with a young woman in the car next to him, short hair, no hijab, dance music playing on the radio, and a fiercely defiant look.  This is a look at the future.  Perhaps the most eerie sequence is when Iman, desperate to find the gun, has his own family interrogated by a supposed professional who specializes in “psychology and body-language techniques,” which is shockingly disturbing.  When Iman’s identity and address are posted on social media, they head for the country, suddenly feeling like a jailbreak out into open spaces, turning into a long, slow descent into authoritarian horror, as the clashing perspectives spiral into a paranoia-fueled nightmare, where fascism and a growing madness creep into their own family divisions.  Iman loses all sense of balance from the missing gun, afraid he’ll lose his job and be sent to prison if he doesn’t find it, growing more and more unstable, turning into a villain that demands absolute obedience, illustrating he is little more than a cog of the repressive regime, with Najmeh, who has a very pragmatic relationship to her husband’s work in a role similar to that of Sandra Hüller’s Hedwig in Jonathan Glazer’s The Zone of Interest (2023), caught in the middle. Where it all leads is into a frenetic, yet heavy-handed Hollywood-style action thriller, fueled by continually escalating suspicions, where everyone is suddenly a potential suspect, turning very grim and darkly sinister, with collateral shrapnel flying in all directions, taking domestic violence to the next level, featuring an alarming road rage car chase, a violent standoff, and a frightening game of hide-and-seek in a hallucinogenic, maze-like labyrinth of an abandoned city in ruins that defies all rationale, but accentuates the deep divisions that exist in this fractured society hell-bent on imposing its will, a common theme, unfortunately, on the global landscape at the moment, where democracy movements are being stifled.   

Mohammad Rasoulof's Top 10 - The Criterion Collection

With Drawn Arms

 

Director Glenn Kaino (left) and Tommie Smith

 

 

 

 

WITH DRAWN ARMS         C                                                                                                USA  (84 mi)  2020  d: Glenn Kaino and Afshin Shahidi

Like so many other films that get the 60’s wrong, this one is no exception, combining some of the more significant artworks of Los Angeles conceptual artist Glenn Kaino with 1968 Olympic 200 meter sprint Gold Medal winner Tommie Smith, the first to break the twenty second barrier in the race, yet he made history afterwards in the Mexico City medal ceremony when he and Bronze Medal winner John Carlos raised their fists from the podium during the playing of the national anthem, heads bowed, each wearing black gloves, described at the time as a black power salute, yet that iconic image remains a preeminent symbol for defiance, black pride, and solidarity.  In today’s world, it’s an affirming gesture symbolizing victory, where clinched fists or fist pumps are often expressed at the end of a game expressing triumph.  At the time it happened, the filled-to-capacity stands booed them vociferously, showering them with a wrath of open resentment.  If protest is meant to disrupt the status quo, certainly part of the desired goal is making people uncomfortable.  Castigated for their actions, the two were immediately sent home by the U.S. Olympic Committee, denigrated by the press, where eminent sportswriter Brent Musburger described the two black athletes as “a couple of black-skinned storm troopers.”  Paying a price for their actions, both men and their families were subject to abuse and death threats, ostracized by the sporting community, unable to find work afterwards, eventually falling on hard times, with their lives spiraling into emotional chaos and dysfunction.  It’s important to place the event in context, however, as 6-months earlier the Civil Rights Act had been signed, Martin Luther King was assassinated, and the summer was filled with riots and demonstrations, including a tent city of protesters that was erected in Washington, D.C.  The Democratic Convention was held in Chicago that summer, where the downtown parks were flooded by anti-war protesters who had a series of violent confrontations with the police each night captured live on nationwide TV, bloodied by nightsticks and batons and endless rounds of tear gas, chanting “The whole world is watching,” later described by a National Commission as a “police riot.”  The violence and racial unrest of that summer cannot be underestimated, which led black athletes, led by sociologist and civil rights activist Dr. Harry Edwards, to consider boycotting the Olympics, eventually deciding to utilize individual expressions of protest instead, leading to the actions of Smith and Carlos.   Had the film been about their 1968 protest, placing it context with similar protests of today, it might have had more appeal, instead it gets caught up in unfamiliar territory, as it documents the personal downfall of Tommie Smith, leaving out John Carlos altogether, basically narrating the story of his life, but the Tommie Smith of today bears little resemblance to the fiery athlete from San Jose State that broke a world record that stood for more than 40 years.      

Instead, a 76-year old Tommie Smith is the central thread of the film, and while he’s amiable, he’s just not that interesting more than 50-years removed from the incident that defined his life, describing how his life has changed and been indelibly harmed by the aftermath, where his mother was sent feces and dead animals in the mail, believing that was the cause of his mother’s deadly heart attack, where early marriages ended prematurely, as he never really recovered from the emotional weight of the experience, carrying it with him his entire life, and while not mentioned in the film, the path of John Carlos followed a similar trajectory, as his wife committed suicide in 1977, leading him to a lengthy period of depression.  Both reached rock bottom in their lives, yet somehow persevered, even after an unappreciative public largely forgot about them.  It took 50-years before they were re-assessed by history, perhaps jumpstarted by the controversy surrounding the Colin Kaepernick protest of police brutality, disparaged and targeted personally by the President of the United States, openly blackballed by the NFL and kept out of the league, then suddenly a tidal shift happened following a swarm of international protests from the George Floyd murder.  Smith and Carlos were anointed to heroic status, where they are now linked among the 60’s black athlete activists that include Jim Brown, Muhammad Ali, Bill Russell, and Kareem Abdul Jabbar.  At the time it happened, however, the press wrote disparaging, anti-American comments about them, basically slandering them in public, linking the black power salute to the Black Panthers (1968), who were notoriously targeted by the FBI, smeared in public and described at the time as a terrorist organization, yet in that era any outspoken black person was viewed as a national threat, including Dr. Martin Luther King, who the FBI called the “most notorious liar” in the country, harassed and secretly followed under covert operations known as COINTELPRO, trying to expose him as a fraud and link him to the Communist Party, which is what they did in those days under J. Edgar Hoover.  Smith recounted an incident when the FBI followed him into a barber shop, where they obviously had a file on him and viewed him as a potential threat. Smith, himself, is the farthest thing from a radical, soft-spoken and reserved, keeping most of his thoughts to himself, spending most of the lonely journey alone, separated from friends and family, where he might have died early on had his third wife Delois not brought him back to his roots in Lemoore, California, a small agricultural community in the San Joaquin Valley, not far from Fresno, where the quieter lifestyle and more open spaces allowed him time to spiritually heal on his own, finally embracing his own life.  The film, unfortunately, never connects the downward trajectory of Smith’s life to the Olympics, becoming pure speculation, as similar death threats have followed others, like Henry Aaron as he pursued Babe Ruth’s home run record, but his life didn’t fall into turmoil, so the filmmakers expect viewers to take this heavily accentuated storyline on face value. 

The final third of the film reveals the artworks of Glenn Kaino, who revered Tommie Smith growing up, finally getting a chance to meet him, making him the centerpiece of his collection of art, starting with a plaster cast of his arm, painted gold, connecting them to another 150 arms by cables, suspended in the air, entitled “Bridge,” a 100-foot long exhibition that fills up an entire room at the High Museum of Art in Atlanta, the cradle of the Civil Rights movement, giving new meaning to the raised fist, resembling a “Bridge Over Troubled Water,” Bridge Over Troubled Water - John Legend - North Sea Jazz ... YouTube (3:44), sung here by John Legend, one of the producers, singing the song over the end credits.  Another artwork was highlighting a Newsweek cover in 1968 where Smith was labeled “The angry black athlete.”  Kaino did a series of magazine covers each smudging out a different word of that headline, altering the meaning entirely, and by doing so implicating the power of words.  The degree of angered hostility that the protest generated stands in stark contrast to the measured tone set by the athletes themselves, who stood in silence, head bowed, yet offering a profound symbol for the fight for social justice.  Kaepernick’s protest of kneeling during the playing of the anthem was equally measured, hardly an act of provocation, where the controversy comes from the deafening noise of misunderstanding, from those that refuse to believe any association with police brutality or social justice.  It is no accident that blacks themselves, by and large, support these protest incidents, where for them there is no disruption or controversy, while those agitated by it seem to be whites resistant to the idea of social change.  Other spokespersons in the film are Colin Kaepernick, the late Congressman John Lewis, sports analyst Jemele Hill, and soccer star Megan Rapinoe, who herself emulated Kaepernick and kneeled during the anthem, but caught no flak for it, largely because she’s white, so whites feel less threatened by her act of resistance.  Kaino created an Invisible Man sculpture that from the back reveals the raised fist, recognized as a symbol of defiance, promoting change, yet the mirrored front takes on the camouflaged look of the surrounding environment, creating a different message depending on which side you see.  Kaino also developed a T-shirt that says “Unite”, where the letter “i” is Smith’s clenched fist.  Smith was also honored by being placed on the cover of a limited-edition Wheaties box, which felt very cathartic, as what was once viewed as extreme has now become part of the mainstream.  Smith was finally inducted into the U.S. Olympics Hall of Fame in 2019, yet two months later protests were banned at the Olympics, as the International Olympic Committee announced in 2020 that athletes were banned from any sort of “political, religious or racial” demonstration.  Just like they were in 1968, the Olympic Committee remains a picture of an unchanging status quo, becoming the last body on earth to appreciate or understand why any athlete would generate a message of social change. Apparently they’ve had their head in the sand for well over 50 years, so why should we expect them to be any different?  The current U.S. Olympic Committee Leadership board of directors is comprised of 17 members, where all but one are white, while the executive team is comprised of 13 members, all but two are white.  Until their racial configuration matches that of the athletes themselves, they will never be a true representative body, instead aligning their interests with the sponsors, as fundraising remains their primary duty.  For them, the individual humanity of Tommie Smith was never their concern, remaining invisible in their eyes.