By Moira Macdonald
Seattle Times movie critic
The Iranian drama "Crimson Gold" begins and ends with the same scene: the barred door of an upscale jewelry shop, filmed from the inside looking out, as we hear the noise of gunfire and screaming as a robbery takes place. The violence seems random, the gunman unknown — then the movie winds backward, introducing us to the aching poverty and petty humiliations that make up the life of Hussein (Hussein Emadeddin), a pizza delivery man. By the time the camera returns us to the jewelry shop, we've come full circle: We understand why this happened, viewing it through different eyes.
Directed by Jafar Panahi and written by legendary Iranian director Abbas Kiarostami, "Crimson Gold" unfolds as a study in opposites: rich and poor, dark and light, contentment and misery. Hussein, a stocky man whose eyes are gray-rimmed with exhaustion, lives in a grim, shadowy apartment, subsisting on the tiny salary he makes from his job.
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"Crimson Gold," with Hussein Emadeddin, Kamyar Sheissi, Azita Rayeji, Shahram Vaziri, Ehsan Amani, Pourang Nakhayi. Directed by Jafar Panahi, from a screenplay by Abbas Kiarostami. 97 minutes. Not rated; suitable for mature audiences (contains violence). In Farsi with English subtitles. Varsity. |
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His deliveries give him peeks at happier lives, and in one extended sequence near the end of the film, he enters an elegantly white penthouse at the indifferent invitation of a lonely customer. Wandering through the plush rooms barefoot (he's worried about dirt), he's a man in a different world. The wealthy customer quickly deserts him to talk on the phone. "There's no one here," he says into the receiver — his guest, no longer necessary, has become invisible.
Panahi and Kiarostami save their sharpest work for a scene in the jewelry store, as Hussein and his friend Ali arrive there, in their best suits, to buy a gift for Hussein's fiancée. The owner treats them with barely disguised contempt, advising them to purchase something that can be rapidly liquidated, saving his attention for a better-dressed couple in the shop.
The slump in the men's shoulders speaks volumes: "Crimson Gold" is an eloquent look at a man made less human by the world around him.
Moira Macdonald: 206-464-2725 or mmacdonald@seattletimes.com