Geopolitics of Film: The Case of "Holy Spider"

Eyes on Iranian Cinema

Source: IMDb, Still from the film Holy Spider, directed by Ali Abbasi (2022).

ز گهواره تا گور دانش بجوی

Seek knowledge from the cradle to the grave.

Directed by Ali Abbasi and sadly inspired by real events that took place in Iran in the early 2000s. A thriller set in Mashhad, one of Iran's largest holy cities, a series of crimes targeting sex workers who disappear in the streets at night is rampant. Following these disappearances, a journalist from Tehran strives to understand the logic behind these crimes to counter a system that seems to be looking the other way. Holy Spider, is an example of the power of Iranian cinema. 

Politics of the Flesh

Abbasi offers an in-depth reflection, beginning with an analysis of bodies as political battlegrounds. Bodies are not merely physical presences. Bodies are places of tension and power, like a theatre witnessing one tragedy after another. The camera follows the women as they move through the night, the darkness, the tension in their steps, the constant danger lurking around them. As for the viewer, you will immediately understand that these bodies, left to the mercy of the street, are unprotected. The women's bodies become, despite themselves, instruments in a debate beyond them. The camera also emphasizes this aspect with close-ups of faces marked by fatigue, reflecting an existence in which the body is put to work and becomes an economic tool. Abbasi uses a dual approach: invisibility and hyper-visibility, confronting the viewer with a duel between bodies that are vulnerable yet powerful, social objects that crystalize collective indignation.

Faith as Weapon

Through this battered flesh, the film draws the spectator into the realm of the sacred, addressing not only the body but also faith as a space for exploitation. Religion is not merely a cultural backdrop that heightens the viewer's tension. It is a political actor in its' own right. Faith, that intimate and collective force, can become a justification used sometimes as an instrument of protection, sometimes of violence. Mashhad is a major sacred site in Iran thanks to the mausoleum of Imam Reza, and religion shapes the lives of its inhabitants. Faith is everywhere, and the characters are immersed in it. The camera focuses on collective prayers, pious images, and the captivating sounds of this political infrastructure. It is not a private matter but a public force. Ali Abbasi highlights a sensitive dimension: the instrumentalization of religion to legitimize their actions. The moral justification is central here. Violence under the pretext of serving religious discourse becomes a mission and, in this case, more than a purification: a duty. This instrumentalization is not unique to Iran or even Islam but addresses a more universal theme: faith can be transformed into a weapon.

Court in Crisis

When faith becomes a justification, justice herself becomes fragile. On screen, viewers are presented with a systemic crisis. In Mashhad, the courts and police stations exist, but on screen, the camera focuses on long, dark corridors, close-ups of empty desks, and tense interactions between police officers and citizens. A complex mechanical justice system is vulnerable to human failings. The police here have several roles, as witnesses, mediators, aggressors, and constrained actors. The forces of law and order are shown to be strict and manipulated by public opinion. The police are not failing because of moral choices, but because their legal and cultural framework is too fragile. This highlights the lack of social justice. The victims belong to populations that are not very visible in public and are despised in this holy city. Those who are most exposed are the least protected, an observation that goes far beyond the Iranian context and speaks to the world at large: effective justice is accessible and attentive, regardless of social status.

Framing the Spider 

Faced with this collapse of judicial institutions, the place of judgement is no longer just the courtroom that holds the truth, but the eyes of the protagonist, a journalist herself. By framing the murderer, she herself becomes a living camera that witnesses the crime. Her gaze becomes like a counter-frame, an attempt to fight against the structures of media power. A fragile attempt as her fellow colleagues doubt her, question her ability to document the crime. Even with evidence, the framing of the spider killer is called into question. Abbasi highlights a question: Who decides what is shown? Who controls the framing? Framing through the prism of the media is never a neutral act, it is a political position - to show or not to show. 

Our Screens, Their Embassies

More than a work with a journalistic framework, we, the almost omniscient spectators, then become the only space where the truth can be heard. Holy Spider can thus become a diplomatic tool. Where each screening of the film at Cannes, London, Toronto, and others functions as an informal embassy where cultural representation allows the audience to engage with foreign policies. Our screens are transformed into embassies. The viewer enters into a relationship with Iran. These embassies may not be offering visas, but they convey the urgency of a situation that the viewer does not know directly. The images themselves are silent diplomats conveying a powerful message that is carried to all corners of the world, where Holy Spider will be screened.

Holy Spider will make you look at Iranian cinema, appealing not only because of its origin but because of its political dimension, offering viewers sequences and scenes steeped in cinematic power. Without seeking to dictate a verdict or criticize Iran, Holy Spider offers an experience in which the cry for fragile justice is heard through the voices of those who are still too rarely heard. Holy Spider succeeds when it allows viewers to enter the streets of Mashhad, to feel the tensions and silences, without judgment but with a new perspective. 

Watch the trailer here.