Film Road to Halloween: Under the Shadow (2016)

The road to Halloween is paved with good films. Wherein we countdown to the spirited season with a hundred doses of horror. 3 days to go.

Iranian-born filmmaker, Babak Anvari, did not exactly chose to not shoot his first feature film, Under the Shadow, in his native land. The lead character of his social horror spends much of the film – almost all of it actually – without her face and hair covered. Not a big deal, perhaps, to you or I strolling the western world, but things are different in Iran.

The opening title sequence of Under the Shadow shows footage of the impact of the war between Iraq and Iran in the late 1980s. Anvari and his team shot the film, then, in Jordan instead. Not that you could tell, with the look and feel of the Iranian landscape. Plus the location was far more beneficial for the film’s budget. But that’s by the by.

Under the Shadow is an authentic, atmospheric film showing us horror in its abstract demons – the Djinn – and through the social turmoil of the aforementioned conflict. Be it Islamic mythology that travels with the wind and takes away one of your keepsakes, or the social anthropology of the Iranian way-of-life back then. A time that writer-director Anvari was part of himself as a small child.

Read More from the Film Road to Halloween: Paranormal Activity

Produced by the commissions of Iran and Jordan (the latter where the film was shot), Under the Shadow was also heavily financed in the UK. The apparent masterful technique and insightful awareness by British Iranian Babak Anvari was somehow not enough to land the film a nomination for Best Foreign Language Film at the Academy Awards. Sinful non-selection, likely confused the Academy as the film was the rare UK submission for the category that year.

The tried and tested tale of a mother attempting to protect her child is portrayed in Under the Shadow with such a unique, natural flavor and poise, it is scene-for-scene unmissable. Set in war-torn Tehran, Shideh and her young daughter Dorsa experience some spooky goings-on, not least when an undetonated missile crashes through the apartment building.

Shideh represents the dubious, logical part of us. Ghosts don’t exist, sure. Her words in arguments with her husband carry multiple meanings, a kind of humming resentment that would likewise resort to the same cold shoulder should you mention the presence of a Djinn. Shideh is not content with her repressed life as a woman in Iran, nor is she open-minded enough to entertain the notion of spirits.

Her husband appears to have little enthusiasm in seeing his wife go back to school to become a doctor like him. Of course he thinks it best if Shideh put her dreams to bed. Perhaps a kind of ease of his conscience as he is called up to provide his medical expertise to the soldiers of Iran. There’s a war on remember. And there are heavy rumors Iraq will sling missiles into Tehran.

Read More from the Film Road to Halloween: The Witch

Windows are armed with large strands of black tape making a cross – a do-it-yourself safety measure that will hopefully prevent shattering glass projecting. Even before the appearance – or acceptance of their existence – of the Djinn, the world of Shideh and Dorsa, and those locals around them, there is a looming danger to their home life. Both the Djinn and enemy air raids are not to be taken likely.

Dorsa has since befriended a boy her age, a mute apparently. He may or may not be whispering to the little girl, filling her head with the imminent threat of the Djinn. When Dorsa’s doll, Kimia, vanishes, the wind literally changes. People from the apartment block also flee to temporary safety given the war-torn state, but Shideh refuses – at first – to just up and leave their home. Even when things get super-sticky, the importance in finding Kimia seems to hold her back.

Earlier, a dud missile has crashed through the building, loitering halfway through an old man’s ceiling. This hunk of metal has brought more with it than merely the wind. That’s not all. Shideh’s own ceiling begins to crack and bulge open. Her most treasured book of medicine (her departed mother had gifted her) mysteriously disappears also.

Amidst the horrors, the suspense, surrounded by war, Under the Shadow is also about a woman restricted by her own culture, unable to continue her studies because of her political views. Struggling to be on the same page as her husband, and finding unease with Dorsa’s current behavior. Shideh is socially belittled by her peers and husband – that education and politics are of little value; that women who drive make errors like not locking the garage door properly.

Read More from the Film Road to Halloween: Se7en

Shideh’s weighted outlook pretty much puts her in a world of her own. Her days as a revolutionary might be behind her, and going back to university looks like a no-no. But Shideh is a good mother and a devoted wife, whatever aura she gives off. A deeply troubled woman, she manages to hold much of the restrain that would likely break others.

Her issues sleeping also has the Djinn rubbing its hand together. Shideh’s personal fears – many of which she just keeps to herself – make a rich concoction with the subdued fury she has for the way her country has changed and treated her. The haunting influence on the apartment takes it toll too. Dorsa is freaking out, and her husband over the phone becomes a voice that insults her.

The pacing of Babak Anvari’s film is a thing of beauty. The film takes its time, but the build up of tension tip-toes into your psyche. Those jump scares might be typical anywhere else, but here they hit the mark. Featuring some intricate interior photography, the cinematographer, Kit Fraser, aids the eerie growth. The general composition of Under the Shadow is alluring to the eye throughout. Add to that the meticulous sound design – low rumblings, whooshing wind – and inch-perfect film editing, it’s a horror atmosphere to die for.

The depths and handling of the social commentary, making it look so simple, is a efficient class of filmmaking. When Shideh flees their apartment, carrying Dorsa, following a harrowing confrontation with the Djinn, she is stopped by authorities for not wearing her hijab. Or that Shideh’s most relaxing time for herself is working out to a Jane Fonda video tape – in a time and place where household VCRs are forbidden.

Read More from the Film Road to Halloween: Mother Joan of the Angels

Thought-provoking, soulful, with a current of untouchable chills, Under the Shadow demonstrates a fine balance of political unrest, inner-family conflict, and the paranoia and cynicism that comes with the arrival of a Djinn. Huge credit of course to Babak Anvari’s writing and directing. Both are constructed superbly, this is an assured debut. Under the Shadow is a dark, graceful horror film, a tantalizing example of story-telling and technique from Anvari and his team of artists.

Iranian actress, Narges Rashidi, who also experienced the war as a youngling, plays Shideh with such a fierce conviction. It’s a performance that offers us a true sense of the grit those circumstances must yield, while also providing audiences with such a breath of fresh air. Rashidi appears in pretty much every single frame of the picture, and whether crumbling from the strands of pressure, lashing out from her own torment and guilt, or in full-protective mode over Dorsa, its a thoroughly commanding presence.

Of course she is aided and abetted by sprightly youngster, Avin Manshadi as Dorsa. A remarkable child performance (again!), capturing that turbulence between mother and daughter. Manshadi nails the child angst, pleading with her mother or else giving her the death stare. There’s love between them for sure, but somehow that cross-path of anguish and claustrophobia makes for an electric on-screen chemistry.