Ali Ahmadzadeh’s new film is underground in the truest sense of the word, because Ahmadzadeh had no permission to film and, as a representative of the “radical and liberal generation,” as he says in the press release, has long been a thorn in the side of the authorities of the authoritarian Iranian regime . The director was unable to receive the Golden Leopard, which he won at the Locarno Film Festival in 2023 with “Critical Zone” – the Iranian authorities had not given him permission to leave the country. »During filming we all thought we could be arrested at any moment. We worked like a group of spies on a mission, surrounded by stressors and danger. Now, at this moment when the film is set to premiere, most of the cast and crew have migrated from Iran. And what about me? I’m in hiding at the moment and don’t know what’s going to happen. I could be arrested,” says Ahmadzadeh, explaining the conditions of the shoot and the consequences for those involved.
It’s no surprise that the mullahs’ regime doesn’t like “Critical Zone.” The film is a subversive work of art and screams for freedom, liberation and anger at the oppressive, oppressive conditions in every frame; in the key scene of the film, when a young woman leans out of the protagonist Amir’s drug taxi at full speed and keeps shouting “Yes! Fuck You!” roars, also quite explicitly.
The film largely sticks with its protagonist Amir, who sleeps in a miserable room during the day while his bulldog Mr. Fred mates his leg, and who drives around Tehran at night supplying people in the city with drugs and chauffeuring acquaintances. The camera often stays on Amir’s face for minutes; it is an expressionless, resigned, but also angry face. We see Amir picking his nose, then insulting other drivers and an ungrateful customer, rubbing his tired eyes. The film is also a formal challenge for the viewer: long shots, often simply silence, at one point the camera is attached to Amir’s steering wheel and at every turn everything goes in circles – like the protagonist’s life without perspective. From a female navigation voice he receives instructions on where to go, but also warnings about police checks and the like: the setting itself is extremely metaphorical and leaves no doubt about the horror of the forced sale of their labor and the authoritarian oppression Freedom rights and needs doubly abused lives of the characters.
A great strength of the film is that it never agitates, does not formulate political demands, but simply shows the desperation, loneliness and hopelessness of its characters.
A great strength of the film is that it never agitates, does not formulate any political demands, but simply shows the desperation, loneliness and hopelessness of its characters, as well as the surreality of their attempts to somehow escape the all-imposing pressure or to give themselves freedom provide. This leads to a very bitter, latent comedy that, surprisingly, adds further gravity to the scene instead of easing it. The only real relief comes from repression, which, given the circumstances, can only be found in drug intoxication, and so in “Critical Zone” we primarily see Amir, who does nothing other than drive from place to place through the night Selling or administering drugs: to his friend who is crying uncontrollably in desperation, to the customers walking along an overpass who kiss his hand like a saint, or to the barely alive old man in a palliative care ward for whom he has baked hash cakes, but above all to himself. Nothing is wrong with him, the helper, either. In perhaps the saddest scene in the film, he visits a young dancer and customer, apparently his ex-girlfriend, and asks her: “Sleep with whoever you want. I understand that. You are young, you have desire. I can’t do it. Mine doesn’t work. What should I do? Do what you want. Go wherever you want. Be whoever you want. But come back to me at night. Out of 20 million people in this city, I only have you and Mr. Fred. Please come back home tonight. I just want to fall asleep with you in my arms. That’s all. Please come back. I missed you so much.” Of course she doesn’t come.
The scene is also interesting because this is the only time we see real gestures of affection on the part of the protagonist. During his plea, the camera only shows the person being begged. She sits across from Amir at the table and mostly looks at her folded hands in front of her, only occasionally looking at him. When he finally places his head on her hands, she withdraws one hand and shows no other emotion. All other forms of tenderness that we see in the film are either purely functional or even violent, for example when, in a homoerotic scene, Amir gives a young man who is sick in bed pills against his will and puts drugs in his tea and strokes his face with little tenderness. Forms of desire and sex are hinted at, but are never loving. As in the key scene mentioned above, in which the passenger’s sexual ecstasy escalates into a tantrum: “Fuck You!”
What evokes subversiveness here is the suggested realization that the concrete social forms offer no prospects for a life outside of the complete deformation of humanity, and that only a radical overthrow of the conditions is possible as a solution. So the film is highly political precisely because it only observes and shows the hideous results of oppression.
At the end of the film – Amir arrives back home – the emotionless computer big sister says: “You have achieved your goal.” A final snarky joke at the expense of the total shit.
»Critical Zone«: Iran/Germany 2023. Director and script: Ali Ahmadzadeh. With: Amir Pousti, Shirin Abedinirad, Maryam Sadeghiyan, Alireza Keymanesh, Saghar Saharkhiz, Mina Hasanlou. 99 min. Cinema release: November 7th.
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