At selected cinemas nationwide and on VoD now.

Aptly for a supernatural movie, Babak Anvari channels the spirit of some exemplary sources.  Like Jennifer Kent’s The Babadook and Hideo Nakata’s Dark Water filtered through the oppressive domestic prism of Asghar Farhadi’s A Separation or Atiq Rahimi’s The Patience Stone, Under the Shadow is as effective in its approach to horror as it is as a comment on the difficult position of women in the Middle East.

Set in Tehran during the latter days of the Iran-Iraq War, Shideh (Narges Rashidi) is left to care for her daughter Dorsa (Avin Manshadi) after her doctor husband Iraj (Bobby Naderi) is assigned to an area of heavy fighting.  After a lucky escape when an Iraqi shell falls on their tower block without exploding, the residents begin to leave, until Shideh and Dorsa are the only ones left.  It’s not only the threat of being bombed that’s driving people away, but reports that a malevolent Djinn has attached itself to the family, and Dorsa in particular.

The idea of a child being followed, haunted or possessed by a creature or entity is nothing new.  From The Exorcist through to modern blockbuster fare like Insidious, it taps into fears about parental control and the limits to which one can protect their children.  The clever spin that Under the Shadow adds is the way that Iranian society seems to conspire against Shideh.  Her husband is conscripted away, which appears to be one of the catalysts for the ghostly occurrences, and when she understandably runs from the building clutching Dorsa after an incident, she is dragged back and reprimanded for indecency by the authorities for forgetting her chador.

In honesty, they could leave, although Dorsa’s doll has gone missing, and this seems to be another key to the attacks.  This leads to friction between mother and daughter, with Dorsa increasingly influenced by another woman that only she can see, represented as spectral glimpses of a figure veiled in the middle-eastern style.  Again, this is a powerful metaphor for the constraints placed upon women in the region and it is the richness of its themes that raise Under the Shadow above the standard fare peddled by the likes of Blumhouse.

For a short, direct running time, Anvari is happy for the story to evolve gradually.  The scares are drip-fed with patience and it’s only in the final act that things really escalate.  It must be said that its not the most overtly terrifying experience, but it should be applauded for choosing to limit jump scares in favour of a cloying, claustrophobic atmosphere that is most effective.

Both Rashidi and Manshadi are outstanding in their roles, making the most of the generous depth of Anvari’s writing.  Under the Shadow succeeds where many others fail, in that these are characters we care about and want to survive.  It’s a startling, eye-catching debut for Babak Anvari, and one of the best horror films of 2016.