New at VIFF: The Holy Spider gives insight into sex worker rights in Iran

This article contains mention of gender-based violence.

Holy Spider (directed by Ali Abbasi) follows Rahimi, a journalist covering the news of a serial murderer named Saeed, labelled “The Spider Killer,” who targets sex workers. He justifies his mission through religion, as their city of Mashad, Iran is home to the shrine of Imam Reza.

Although Rahimi is fictional, the film is based on a real serial killer who was active from 2000 to 2001. The recent protests in Iran, sparked by the murder of Kurdish woman Mahsa Amini, also make the Holy Spider’s devastating representation of the violent manifestations of misogyny unarguably relevant.

Rahimi is a single woman pursuing a career path dominated by men. People from hotel employees to policemen constantly question or critique her position in society and her authority as a reporter.

Although she is a journalist, Rahimi is not positioned as so different from the sex workers in the film. She was also terminated from her previous workplace for speaking out after experiencing sexual harassment from her employer. The incident leads to others ostracising her, providing an excuse for her opposers to question her personality and professionalism.

Although Rahimi is not a sex worker herself, the same structures of misogyny that harm them impact her as well.

Abbasi strategically opens the film through the point of view of one of Saeed’s sex worker victims, providing an insight into the exhausting reality of her life, starting from her goodnight kiss to her young child before leaving for work.

Humanizing sex workers from the outset is important to contrast the dehumanizing remarks made throughout the story as the killer and his supporters justify the murders. Despite the fear his crimes caused in the community, Saeed’s arrest sparks a support campaign from people who share his views, revealing the deep-seated prejudice against sex workers.

The recurring critique of victim-blaming is not limited to Iran, making the film relevant worldwide. There is still prevalent prejudice towards sex workers in Western society, as evident in the harsh criticism directed at Lauren Kwei, a paramedic whose OnlyFans account was outed by the New York Post in 2020. From the global resonance to Rahimi's allyship, the film makes a strong case for speaking out wherever we are against state-sanctioned discrimination against sex workers.

Abbasi’s film ultimately critiques the use of religion to justify cruelty. There are female characters in the film who wear a headscarf and those who do not. Women who have married and raised their children from home or are working mothers, along with those who are single and pursuing a career. However, in all of this, you have the appointed or self-proclaimed male policy-makers, whose fingers are intertwined with prayer beads. They label the sinner and decide the punishment because they have aligned themselves with their interpretation of faith as morality.

One of the reasons why I wanted to watch this film was because I am part of the religious community that it depicts. I have fond memories of Mashad from my childhood because my family has visited the city several times for pilgrimage.

Although I am not Irani myself, the environment I was brought up in is very similar: full of taboos about sexual agency and limitations to what a woman could do. As I grew up and discovered my own path, I found myself critiquing these aspects of my society and was intrigued to see Holy Spider doing the same.

I appreciate the way Abbasi portrays the weaponization of religion and the countless barriers women face every day. The fact that the main character is a journalist is significant too, as a reporter uncovers the truth and confronts perpetrators, no matter who they may be. Here, a woman takes on this role, and the truth she uncovers does not only concern Saeed or his victims but the entire community.