Under the Shadow is, despite its crisp length, a slow-burner. British-Iranian director Babak Anvari takes his time setting up the situation that will confront Shideh and her daughter Dorsa. We are supposed to be in horror territory, but Anvari is in no hurry to get there.
The wait is necessary, and worthwhile. The plot’s political context itself is the scariest thing about Under the Shadow (2016).
The Farsi-language movie is available on Netflix. Anvari’s directing credits include the crime thriller I Came By, which is also on Netflix.
Under the Shadow is set in Tehran during the Iran-Iraq War, which dragged on between 1980 and 1988 and claimed countless lives. Coming soon after the Islamic Revolution in Iran in 1979, the war cemented autocratic rule alongside creating a cult around hyper-nationalism and martyrdom, compelling numerous Iranians to flee a country they no longer recognised.
A seemingly unending conflict, severe restrictions on women, a widespread sense of being hemmed in from all sides – Shideh (Narges Rashidi) gets the full blast of Iran’s multi-layered turmoil. She is unable to resume the medical studies that were interrupted by her participation in political protests before the Revolution. “Every mistake has consequences,” an unbending government official cruelly tells her.
Frustrated by her forced domesticity and dismayed by her husband Iraj’s lack of empathy, Shideh finds herself stretched to the limit when Iraj is conscripted. Dorsa’s beloved doll goes missing, a neighbour’s nephew is a harbinger, and bombs keep raining on Tehran. Shideh’s rationalism is shaken when it appears that the talk about djinns might not be far-fetched after all.
Narges Rashidi and Avin Manshadi, as Dorsa, brilliantly convey their escalating terror as they confront a series of frightening experiences. If Rashidi portrays the complexity of Shideh’s situation – she must fight for herself but also for her daughter – Manshadi is remarkable as the extraordinarily sensitive child who has the first inkling that something is not quite right.
The old-fashioned tale of possession and haunting has been beautifully shot by Kit Fraser. The claustrophobic apartment in which Shideh confronts her worst fears becomes a microcosm for a country riven by external attack and internal tensions, neither of which have easy solutions.
The most frightening moment is when Shideh flees her apartment in terror with Dorsa, but forgets to take her headscarf. What follows proves that djinns might be evil, but humans are no better.
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