Urgent Review: Stream or Download “The Sealed Soil” Now

Marva Nabili’s “The Sealed Soil,” released in 1977, stands as the first known Iranian film directed by a woman and has been largely inaccessible for many years. Its recent restoration and showing by the UCLA Film and Television Archive is noteworthy not only for its historical value but because the film transcends that with its intensity. It immerses viewers in the protagonist’s experiences, revealing her internal world through her everyday reality.

This film, created with a modest budget and featuring a cast of nonprofessional actors, follows an 18-year-old woman from a secluded village, grappling with the limitations imposed by Iran’s unique patriarchal system. It is an exceptional debut, conveying its themes with great subtlety. The pressures build gradually, leading to an intense climax that can catch viewers off guard. The film requires a commitment from its audience that aligns with its own dedication to storytelling, and it is to be hoped that “The Sealed Soil” will earn that commitment.

The main character, Rooy-Bekheir (Flora Shabavis), represents what might have been disparagingly termed “a spinster” in the West some decades back. Although she is considered of marriageable age, she shows no desire to marry, adhering instead to her role in fulfilling duties towards her family. Set during the era of Shah Mohammad Reza Shah Pahlavi, the film reflects a period when Iran was gradually adopting Westernized values that allowed women some freedoms—one of which Rooy-Bekheir embraces by resisting marriage.

However, this notion of “freedom” proves to be quite relative, as it indicates “things could be worse.” Rooy-Bekheir grapples with feelings of melancholy that are evident in her demeanor, her silence under stress, and her reticence at family gatherings until her mother draws attention to her lack of appetite. She has a favorite spot near the river where she often lingers while collecting branches for home, cherishing the peace it brings her—even if the film subtly conveys this without overt dialogues or narrations, exemplifying a “show, don’t tell” approach.

The central conflict surfaces as the village mayor reveals that the local agricultural company plans to displace families from their lands, proposing a financial settlement for voluntary relocations. With the family pressing for resources, accepting this deal becomes not just an option, but a probable necessity.

Alternatively, the family sees an opportunity to secure quick money by persuading Rooy-Bekheir to enter a marriage agreement in exchange for a dowry. The initial proposal includes 500 Tomans, a television, and various garments such as shawls and shoes for their daughter. The dialogue carefully establishes that while the heroine has some choices, the number is limited, with traditional constraints persisting despite governmental changes.

One particularly poignant moment occurs when the mayor visits again, attempting to persuade Rooy-Bekheir to marry. He frames it as her rightful choice, yet suggests it would contribute to the happiness of others if she conformed to societal expectations. His attempts to normalize early marriage through personal anecdotes place a heavy burden on her, and after he departs, she finds herself alone, engaging in the routine task of rolling up a rug, echoing her constrained existence.

Representing a quintessential example of what is now termed “Slow Cinema”—a label that emerged after the film’s release—“The Sealed Soil” may challenge viewers accustomed to mainstream cinema’s fast-paced storytelling and edits. The initial segment is intentionally mundane and repetitive, fully immersing us in a life characterized by sameness and restraint.

However, a key moment arrives when Rooy-Bekheir is seen walking along a road, with the music rising to evoke deep emotions. If viewers have invested themselves, the experience transforms into something mesmerizing—an almost mythic examination of a woman confronting her fate, delivered in an ostensibly ordinary context. The film’s conclusion, while not conventionally gratifying, leaves viewers with an authentic sense of truth—a rare achievement in any narrative film.