Shot in June 2022, The Fury seeks to capture the Zeitgeist: a sense of foreboding and dread sparked by the resurgence of fascism that we are witnessing. 

While The Fury can be viewed as a continuation of Neshat's exploration of the female body in the context of theocratic politics and gender apartheid of the Islamic Republic of Iran, its unfolding in New York City drives home its international charge. 

The Fury's photographic subjects are women of all races, creeds, and ethnicities. Their bodies are abused, sometimes mutilated and bear physical signs of social alienation. The message is clear: the bedrock of power and authoritarianism is the subjugation and control of the female body. 

The video installation cautions viewers against a reductionist identity-driven reading of the work, referencing two classic cinematic works of the post-war era: Pasolini's Saló and Liliana Cavani's The Night Porter. Neshat's protagonist occupies the social margins without future prospects. She is physically displaced and mentally disturbed, bringing her wounds and traumas with her to the new world. While walking down the streets of Brooklyn, she relives in the horrors of her past. From the street's vantage point, she is one among many in her cocoon, alienated and atomized.

Throughout her practice, Neshat returns to the power and suppression of women without portraying her subjects as victims. The Fury continues this career-long inquiry into the role of the female body, notably explored in her acclaimed 1990s work, the photographic series Women of Allah (1994-1997). In this early work, the artist directly references the 1979 Islamic Revolution, using the symbol of the veil to capture the paradox of conviction, submission and violence. In The Fury, the protagonist's silent scream is caught like a virus through empathy. It is a pain that is known, felt, and shared. It is the fury against power everywhere, encircling people.