Under the Shadow: A Haunted House in Wartime
Image via IMDB
Under the Shadow (2016), written and directed by Babak Anvari, is an incredibly important, needed, and timely Iranian entry in the haunted house subgenre, repoliticizing the concept of “house” and home, while also highlighting the struggles of motherhood, dreams unfulfilled, and the mental and emotional strain of living as a civilian on a frontline city in wartime.
Shideh (Narges Rashidi), a former medical student barred from returning to her studies due to her left-leaning politics while in university, is raising her daughter Dorsa (Avin Manshadi) in ’80s war-torn Tehran. Her husband Iraj (Bobby Naderi), a doctor, is called away to serve in the war, leaving Shideh and Dorsa alone. As a difficult situation becomes dire with the threat of missile-fire upon Tehran, many other tenants in Shideh and Dorsa’s apartment building begin to leave in earnest after a terrifying event, leaving the two of them truly alone. Cornered into isolated motherhood and the rumors of a supernatural threat, Shideh must confront danger and worse, in order to save her daughter and herself.
Character depth and nuance are both key facets of the gem that is Under the Shadow. Though Shideh is frustrated and depressed about not being able to finish her medical studies—this frustration manifests as an outlash of resentment toward her husband and a moment of awkwardness around one of her former colleagues—Shideh also tries to be a decent mother to Dorsa. But, back against the wall, Shideh still lashes out. Her own husband questions the wisdom of her involvement in politics. In all corners of her life, Shideh feels she never measures up—that she cannot be the kind of woman or mother that society wants her to be. But even with these difficulties, there is still genuine love between Shideh and Iraj. Even with aspersions cast over her experience and past, Shideh steps in with only a moment’s pause to help someone else as best she can with her medical training.
Character depth is equally supported by authentic, heartfelt cast performances, with both Rashidi and Manshadi taking center stage. Manshadi does an incredible job portraying the very difficult space between being a young child under the stresses of war, while also still being just that: a young girl. Just as successfully, Rashidi acts out the tension, anger, care, love, and exhaustion that her circumstances put her under. Her physical mannerisms, abbreviated and tight as they are, often reminded me of someone trapped in a room they cannot escape, stuck restlessly pacing the four walls of their prison.
Cinematography also aptly captures the claustrophobic, hidden feel of house and home, especially considering how Shideh’s own identity is limited to the home due to political circumstances. Alternating between the feeling of a cage and a place of horror where unknown dangers invade, the home becomes anything but, as mental and emotional tension continue to rise. The intrusion of the supernatural into this space also helps to repoliticize the haunted house subgenre for contemporary audiences, and introduces a much-needed different cultural perspective.
When we think of haunted houses in a literary or filmic context, the image of a rotting mansion somewhere in a European moor is likely to come to mind. Though this image itself is deeply political (as it pertains to wealth, class, and race), the historicity of it renders it at an apolitical distance for contemporary audiences. Stories like Under the Shadow, however, reinvigorate the haunted house subgenre with the political by the importance of the location (and by extension the area’s politics) of the home (’80s post-revolution, war-torn Tehran), the residents within (Shideh’s own inability to continue her studies due to politics), and the demands upon and the dynamics of the family unit (Iraj being called away to serve in the war, and Shideh’s own frustration with how trapped she feels in her own life). More and more, the haunted house subgenre is returning (in a new way) to its roots as a way of examining the concept of home, family, and the politics embedded in each.
Added on to all of this, the film’s opening text, which provides a very general context for the story’s time and place, leaves a unique shadow that is cast over the rest of the film: A viewer based in the U.S., for example, has a very vague sense of the war and what that entails, but the emotional impression is that of an incredibly dark shadow passing over the face of the sun. The shadow consumes the entire structure of the narrative, leaving the viewer, just as Shideh, to struggle with the idea of what life was like before the war, and trying to imagine what a future will be like after. In this way, the shadow of the war becomes its own hyperobject.
Under the Shadow is a reminder of what I love most about horror, an incredibly important entry into the haunted house subgenre, and a rare and wonderful window that viewers from around the world can look through to learn more about others. If you’re looking to diversify your movie-watching this year, or if you’re just a fan of supernatural horror, Under the Shadow is a must-see.
Article written by Laura Kemmerer
Laura tuned into horror with an interest in what these movies and books can tell us about ourselves and what societies fear. She is most interested in horror focused around the supernatural, folklore, the occult, Gothic themes, haunted media, landscape as a character, and hauntology (focusing on lost or broken futures).
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