On a black screen, two lines of text fade into view: “This film was made in secret. When there is no way, a way must be made.” This epigraph marks the beginning of The Seed of the Sacred Fig, a courageous Iranian drama whose very existence forced its director—Mohammed Rasoulof—to either flee his country or face torture and imprisonment from his own government. Rasoulof’s previous work (most notably, 2020’s There is No Evil) had already caused a stir by criticizing his homeland’s oppressive methods of control, but Sacred Fig, in particular, caused severe real-life repercussions for him. Fortunately, all the filmed footage was smuggled past Iran’s borders to be finished, allowing Rasoulof’s unfiltered vision to be shown to the world. Perhaps even more unbelievably, the movie is a brilliantly riveting thriller, weaving a complex web of thick paranoia, painful domestic tension, and grim ethical dilemmas across nearly three hours.

While real-life protest and police brutality footage is interspersed throughout, Sacred Fig’s fictional narrative driving force is far more uncomfortably intimate. A close-knit family in Tehran finds all their lives gradually falling apart, amid both dangerous civil unrest and distressingly personal desperation. The father, Iman (Missagh Zareh), gains the opportunity to become an investigating judge, which ultimately hinges on approving death sentences without even examining evidence. His two older daughters, Rezvan (Masha Rostami) and Sana (Setareh Maleki), grow increasingly opposed to the corrupt system their dad works for, especially as one of their friends is gruesomely injured in the ongoing riots. Caught in the middle is their mother, Najmeh (Sohelia Golestani), who firmly remains on Iman’s side while struggling to remain on good terms with her children. Bitter resentment grows throughout the entire household, but when Iman’s hidden gun suddenly disappears, any trust between them is completely shattered. Even Iman himself, first introduced as a relatively well-meaning man caught in difficult moral decisions, has a much darker side poised to burst out at any moment.

Sacred Fig’s immense length may seem intimidating at first glance, but not only is this story completely justified in being so stretched out, its pacing never feels tedious or stagnant. The story’s gradual escalation of suspense so grippingly builds to the frantic final act; every intense conflict keeps this uncompromising epic absolutely captivating. All its central performances are fantastic, crucially sustaining the raw emotional weight at Sacred Fig’s very core. Despite having to be shot as discreetly as possible, this film’s scope never feels limited. In fact, many distinct locations are ambitiously utilized throughout, especially towards the film’s intense climax. Rasoulof’s directing skill, in general, is pretty incredible. On top of the disturbingly taut story, it displays real filmmaking talent through its exceptionally great cinematography, impressively coordinated long takes, atmospheric sound design, and powerful use of music (or utter lack thereof, which often achieves an even more haunting effect). 

Despite all of Sacred Fig’s outstanding strengths, not everyone necessarily feels like it’s perfect. Perhaps this film’s most divisive aspect is the ending’s major tonal shift, which has been criticized as jarring in comparison to everything preceding it. Whether or not that conclusion perfectly sticks the landing, it’s still an utterly engrossing and cathartic payoff to such a long buildup of dread. Either way, Sacred Fig is one of the year’s finest cinematic achievements, even judged apart from the harsh circumstances it was created under. Rasoulof himself not only surviving these circumstances, but remaining a dedicated filmmaker through it all, is remarkable beyond words.