"Holy Spider" examines a "serial killer society," in which Iranian sex workers are targeted

The gripping Iranian serial killer film, "Holy Spider" is set in the holy city Mashhad, where Saeed (Mehdi Bajestani) is murdering sex workers. (The pre-credit sequence depicts his ninth victim). While the police have no clues, Rahimi (Zar Amir Ebrahimi), a journalist arrives to cover the case and help catch the killer.

Directed and co-written by Ali Abbasi ("Border"), "Holy Spider" is a very unusual Iranian film in that it features sex and nudity as well as some very explicit violence. (It was filmed in Jordan, not Iran.) The story is based on a real-life case about Saeed Hanaei, who killed 16 women between 2000 and 2001. He did this as an act of cleansing vice from the streets and is celebrated as a hero for his actions by many citizens.

Meanwhile, Rahimi encounters nothing but difficulties from men, starting with her trouble checking into a hotel alone where she had made a reservation, to harassment from members of the police force, to feeling threatened when she walks down a street alone at night.

Abbasi's strength as a filmmaker is that he makes viewers understand and care about all of the characters — from the sex worker who is murdered in the opening sequence, to the determined Rahimi and Saeed, a war veteran with a wife and three kids. Their storylines alternate until they intersect. 

"Holy Spider" also features some very intense and provocative moments not just involving the crimes, but also in how women are seen and treated in Iran. Once Saeed is caught and brought to trial, the film provides another critical look at Iranian society.

Abbasi and Amir Ebrahimi, who won Best Actress at Cannes this year for her performance, chatted with Salon about "Holy Spider." 

Ali, how did you find this story and decide to make a film about it? Was Rahimi's character part of the real-life case or created for the film? 

Ali Abbasi: She was a part of the real case, and this was a big, very infamous case at the time. It was national news, even if the government didn't want it to be on the front page. This is not the story of [Saeed]. It's inspired by his story, so we have taken certain creative licenses. Rahimi's character does exist. She did follow the investigation, but she didn't go undercover, as in the movie. But she was there during the sequence in prison. I took that from a transcript of a report. 

Zar, how did you come to play this role and develop Rahimi's character? 

Zar Amir Ebrahimi: I started my work on this film as the casting director. I wasn't supposed to play any role in the film. Ali and I had many discussions about each role and the whole script. I knew every character in the film very well. When it came to this journalist, I was always looking for some motivation — what is her motive to risk her life at this point? I never had a real answer when I was explaining this role to other actresses. The actress who was supposed to play the role decided not to do it a week before shooting. I didn't think I was right for the role, physically, but I got explosive about the actress leaving and Ali saw another side of me. He finally said, "I want to go with you."

I looked into her childhood, her parents. Is she a feminist? Once I had this character in my hands and started doing some research. I called my friends who were working as journalists, and it was interesting, because I thought being a journalist means you have a voice, and no one can bother you or annoy you or harass you. If anyone does something, you can just write about it. I was shocked it was not like this, and these journalists, especially women, are facing many problems in their daily life with their editor, the people they interview, with authorities and colleagues. It's the same in Europe. They told me very sad stories related to harassment. Then I connected myself and own experience of life in Iran as a woman to those journalists and this journalist and then I found her motivation. When I went in front of the camera, she was inside me. 

Did you meet with the real reporter to prepare for the role? 

Amir Ebrahimi: I knew the reporter and I didn't talk with her. Ali was in contact with her. I avoided direct contact so as not to be influenced by the real person. The journalist is the role model, but she is fictionalized in the story. I wanted to find something more personal for her.

We had a background that she is not able to work with every newspaper because they talk about her. She didn't play the game. She only has this one editor who will work with her. She is really independent and she has only this card to play in her professional and personal life. 

Ali, what decisions did you make about alternating Rahimi's and Saeed's points of view, which show how men are privileged in Iranian society, but women are often victims or need to "know their place"? 

Abbasi: I do think it is a topical movie or a women's rights movie; it's a film noir. It is about these two characters, who are, in their own way, both pretty relentless. They believe in what they are doing. The balance came in the editing. We shot a lot of materials with Mehdi, who plays Saeed, and going into his head with his hallucinations and fantasies. But to keep this balance it should be a two-hander. I don't see one person as the main character. You start with one character, then Saeed, then jump to Rahimi, then end somewhere else. We tried to have a Big Brother perspective than one or two characters. That 50/50 balance helped tell the story.

Rahimi can perhaps infiltrate spaces where cops cannot. What are your thoughts about Rahimi putting herself at risk to catch Saeed rather than leave it to the police to handle?

Amir Ebrahimi: She is a special character. I'm not sure every woman has this access, that if you go to this street in this city, you can meet these women and talk with them, especially as a journalist. They don't trust you. You can write about them. When Rahimi goes to a sex worker's mother's house, she doesn't want her to speak with her. When Rahimi asks a sex worker about Saeed, she doesn't answer. They don't trust you, which is why I needed that motivation. This journalist had to stay in the street and make these girls trust her. As a woman, I want to get to the truth, but for me, it is about taking care of myself and being a support to other women to make society safer for all of us.

Zar Amir Ebrahimi in "Holy Spider" (Utopia)

I cared so much about the first victim in the film, even though she only gets 10 minutes of screen time. Ali, you show enough of her life that we see what is lost when she becomes a murder victim.

Abbasi: We had conversations that there have been so many movies about a genius serial killer who is killing numbers of women. These women are not numbers. It was important to have an introduction to this specific way of life. To hook you emotionally, and make you care about these people in this strange country, with strange rules. You have to have this hook on the humanity.

"Holy Spider" opens with that potent sequence that depicts nudity, fellatio and violence. This is not something seen in Iranian cinema. I was surprised by the sex scene Saeed has in the film as well. Ali, what can you say about depicting this, and did you feel the need to include this knowing that it would provoke attention?

Abbasi: I think there has been countless movies about sex workers both in Iran and in Hollywood and many times it is being shown as a glamorous job, or not as bad as you think, or in the end, you find a good rich husband as in "Pretty Woman." The actual thing in Iran is much, much harsher and it's a place where these women are not being treated as human beings. To show the underbelly of a violent place, you can't do it with a feather pen. You need to have a sense of what is going on. 

It's a question brought up by everyone from the folks who financed the film to the crew and distributors and festivals: Is it necessary? I think there are two ways of looking at it. Is this necessary in the context of the movie itself? That is debatable. Every scene is dispensable or not. But is this necessary in the context of Iranian culture, which tends to hide stuff and talk about things metaphorically. The last 50 years of Iranian cinema is the result of severe censorship. What you have come to accept as the picture of Iran in contemporary Iranian movies is heavily censored and retouched. So, in that context, it is absolutely necessary to serve people with a few bites of raw reality. You might see movies about middle-class families playing piano in Tehran, but that's not the whole truth. 

Both Rahimi and Saeed are bound by truth and duty. They behave the way they do because they feel not just an obligation but also a sense of righteousness. Can you talk about this idea?  

Amir Ebrahimi: I think Saeed is looking for his truth somehow. He finds the truth in his actions, and Rahimi finds it in another way. Both characters, even Saeed's wife, they are all victims of this society. Rahimi is having difficulties every day with every step she takes she has to deal with many things. 

Can you talk about Rahimi's search for truth?

Amir Ebrahimi: We are in a patriarchal society and suffer misogyny. This film is more universal than just being an Iranian social-political movie. But living in Iran, we are telling a story that takes place in a religious society in Mashhad, with this government. I understand people who are living in Mashhad and support someone like Saeed because they have no education and have no idea about sex workers. But we know there is sex work there, in a city where people go there to pray. But the government hides it, and they don't want us to talk about it.

Rahimi is looking for that truth and in this film, we show this reality. It's a mirror to that society. Ali says this film is not about the serial killer but about the serial killer society. This is what I felt and experienced in Iran as a woman. We can easily be a serial killer society because of all this pressure we have had for 40 years because of religion. I never thought Rahimi was looking for a truth. I thought she was fighting for herself and her rights. She was not there to find a killer, but to save these women. The hardest scene where I interview Saeed's wife, Fatima (Forouzan Jamshidnejad). Who am I? Am I journalist? Am I an Iranian woman? Am I the woman risking her life in this house two night before? It was a complicated scene for me, and she played her shame and support for her husband at the same time. She sees the truth in Saeed's wife, and that she's a victim, too. But it is hard to have a dialogue with someone supporting the killer. Maybe I was looking for our truth as women.

What about film's themes of purity and corruption? We get a sense of this when a female sex worker touches Saeed's beard and he reacts by washing it and praying. But there is also the cynical episodes where Saeed meets with men who are working to free him behind the scenes. I think it is a critical film, but I also think it is cynical.

Abbasi: I think it is a movie about a cynical society. I don't think, as a filmmaker, my job is to give you bouquet of flowers, it's more of a slap in the face. I think that is sometimes needed. There is no point in retouching this image that is, as I said, rotten. It is no secret that these things happen in Iran or the way they happen. We were in the unique position to actually be able to depict them — we have the means and the possibilities of showing this. If I was really cynical, the idea that there is a sense of justice would make me overtly optimistic. It's not a movie about heroes, but this circle of violence that encircles everyone, which is the problem.

I'm curious about the portrait of Mashhad as both beautiful and brutal. There is the idea this being a holy city and the crimes being part of a fatwa or done for religious reasons. There are the female victims, and the graphic violence as well as the grittiness of the urban nighttime environment. 

Abbasi: The city of Mashhad is the second largest city in Iran, and it is an interesting city because it's the Vatican meets Las Vegas. There's a big shrine, the biggest mosque in the world, which combines pilgrimage and business, but these people need to have fun. Where there are a lot of men in the same place, there is prostitution, for sure. In the city, there are sex workers in the street, and this is tolerated as something that is good for business. My friends who live there are musicians, but they are not allowed to have concerts because [the authorities consider] that as vice. But prostitution is tolerated because they decided you can't control it, because it is a tourist city. It is a relatively wealthy city, but there is an underbelly because there has been a lot of immigration there. It is also a hub for drug trade from Afghanistan. It's a real noir city. It has one surface during the day — dusty and controlled and people are going for the pilgrimage and every is coming for the religion, then at night, it transforms and becomes sin city.

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The film opens with the quote "Every man shall meet what he wishes to avoid." That is perhaps reference to death, but it could also be seen as Saeed encountering the sex workers that he wants to rid society of. What can you say about this concept?

Abbasi: I think it's interesting that this happened in this city. With so many contrasts in this city that can inhibit this whole theme. That is one of the reasons why we are having problems with Iranian government. Maybe the Italians had the same thing with The Vatican — you are not allowed to make movies that are critical of what happens in the Vatican because that would be blasphemous or an insult against Christianity. That's how they look at things, but at the same time, that is the reality. Am I being cynical for pointing out the obvious? I don't think so. I just don't buy the propaganda narrative they present — and neither should you!

"Holy Spider" is playing in select theaters starting Oct. 28.