Summary:
Shideh is a woman struggling to live beneath the patriarchal oppression of 1980’s post-revolution Tehran. As the city becomes the targets of more and more attacks, Shideh stays in the city, despite all of her neighbors fleeing for cover. She and her daughter are soon provoked by a djinn (in other cultures spelled jinn, or genie) that lives in her building.
My Thoughts:
People searching for a bombardment of jump scares, gore-soaked death scenes or dim-witted protagonists meandering brainlessly towards their slaughter can search elsewhere; his movie has none of those things. “Under the Shadow” is a pseudo-paranormal thriller with more brains and more symbolism than many of the genre’s other offerings, but strangely, that is not what sets this film apart. This film is about living “under the shadow” of the patriarchal society in Iran, and it does an amazing job of showing this through the djinn that haunts their home.
From the opening scene of the film, the idea that woman are worth less than men in this society is driven into the minds of the viewer. Shideh (Narges Rashidi, “Aeon Flux”) nervously sits adjacent from a bureaucratic dean as he looks over her old transcripts. Before the war, Shideh was studying to be a doctor, but because of her involvement with certain student groups, the dean tells her that she will be unable to return to her studies. She protests that her husband was able to finish his, but the dean won’t hear of it. He tells her there’s nothing to be done.
Frustrated, Shideh returns home, driving through a roadblock on her way. Shideh adjusts her hijab anxiously as the men at the stop peer voyeuristically inside her car before finally waving her through. Her hopes of returning to medical school dashed, Shideh rids herself of all the medical books she’d acquired for her classes, save one that was given to her by her deceased mother. As if the universe is trying to rub more salt on her wounds, Shideh’s husband Iraj, a doctor, returns home and tells her that he is going to be assigned to a war zone, and soon has to leave. He suggests that Shideh go to stay with his parents, as the bombings in Tehran have become more frequent. Shideh refuses, saying that she will be fine without him. Soon Iraj leaves, and Shideh and her daughter, Dorsa, are left alone in the apartment.
During another bombing, Shideh and Dorsa are forced into the bomb shelter beneath their apartment complex. There, Shideh and Dorsa converse with their neighbors, the Ebrahimi family, to pass the time. Dorsa talks with the Ebrahimi’s cousin, whom has been staying with them since his parents were killed in the recent violence. The boy tells Dorsa a myth about the Djinn; a story that troubles the little girl and later gives her vivid nightmares. Shideh, frustrated with the cousin, goes upstairs to complain to Mrs. Ebrahimi, only to be told that the cousin is a mute.
As the story progresses, a bomb drops through the ceiling of the top floor of the building where Shideh lives. Fortunately, the detonator fails to go off and the bomb remains inactive, but unfortunately the shock prompts one of the apartment’s occupants to have a heart attack, and despite Shideh’s best efforts, she is unable to save him. The dead man’s wife is insistent that it was not the shock of the bomb dropping into their home that caused the heart attack, but a djinn.
Again, Shideh writes off the idea of djinn as superstition, but as the nights go on, and more and more of the neighbors flee the building, Sideh begins to experience nightmares much like the ones Dorsa had earlier. She becomes paranoid and irritable, lashing out at Dorsa for trivial offences, becoming increasingly unhinged as the story makes headway.
I don’t want to reveal many more plot details, but at the bottom of this review I’d like to go over a little of the symbolism of the climax, and why, though it does not exceed some of the other frights speckled throughout the film, I believe Anvari does accomplish what he set out to achieve.
The Good:
First and foremost, this is a feminist horror film from a male Iraqi filmmaker; that fact right there makes this film stand out. But beyond that, the film is flippin’ good too. The message this film sets out to convey flourishes from the screen in a pulchritudinous fashion.
It’s obvious that Shideh does many things out of stubbornness, something that I believe speaks to the writing of this story and its characters. Shideh is a very believable character- there are times when she gets angry with her daughter and yells at her, and there are other instances where she mulishly deigns to bow her head to her husband’s wishes, even when doing so would mean greater safety and security for her and her daughter. She is bullheaded, but persistent. She needs things her way, and she’s willing to fight for it. She is, at times, an unlikeable character, and other times a very sympathetic character. It’s this sort of dynamic range in a character that gives her depth and makes her more memorable than many protagonists in similar stories.
Another great thing about this film is its tangibility. They say the devil is in the details, and the details in this film give it brilliant life. The director, Babak Anvari (forthcoming “Wounds”), grew up in Tehran during the 1980s, before later moving to Britain. He draws on his own experiences to bring all sorts of life into the picture. Characters tape windows in a certain fashion to keep them from shattering during the blasts. The VCR that Shideh keeps in her apartment is hidden from company, as are the American exercise tapes she keeps in the cabinet (the VCR also acts as another symbol of Shideh’s quiet defiance towards the society in which she lives.)
The Bad:
This film is incredibly successful as a social commentary. As a horror film, it succeeds in creating tension, perhaps making the viewer jump a few times, but it is not an overtly scary film. The most intense moments of the film arise from the tension between Shideh and Dorsa. The film is creepy, at parts, and there are a few images that could startle younger viewers (this movie is pg-13 after all), but for genre-hardened fans this movie might not inspire the thrills you crave.
Verdict:
If I were reviewing this as simply a horror film, I would’ve given it 3.5/5 stars, but in conjunction with the social commentary it easily earns its 4.5/5 star rating from TMM. Don’t watch this movie for the scares; that’s not what makes this movie interesting. Watch it for the commentary and enjoy the mild thrills it provides along the way. Watching this film as an American, we are given greater insight into what people in Tehran went through during the 80s. It’s a little history lesson, a little culture, as well as an enjoyable time. I truly believe that watching foreign cinema (and reading foreign literature) can help break down barriers and bridge the gaps between culture divides, it can help us understand that no matter where we come from, regardless of country, we’re all people; we all have worth; and our beliefs all have merit. This film is a great look into culture, a well-crafted thriller, and above all, a deeply feminist film that came from a particularly patriarchal society.
(MAJOR SPOILERS FOLLOW- ENDING DISCUSSED)
Okay, I warned you above that I wanted to discuss the symbolism of the djinn at the end of the film and why I believe it still works as an ending, despite the fact that its not incredibly scary.
The djinn takes the form of a faceless woman under guise of a long, billowing burka before attacking Dorsa and Shideh on the stairwell, smothering them in a sea of fabric. The djinn’s design is creepy, sure, but I believe what Anvari was trying to say with this design was more about the state in which woman were (are) forced to live their lives under such garments in Iraq. Shideh escapes the djinn and drives off towards Iraj’s parents, and hopefully away from the oppressive society. The fabric trying to smother Shideh and her daughter is a poignant metaphor for the acutely disturbing oppression woman in Iraq face every day.
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