Crimson Gold

A raid on a Tehran jeweler's ends in tragedy when the attacker, Hussein, shoots the store owner, Mr Vaziri, before then turning the gun on himself – the whole sequence shot in a single shot, the camera positioned behind the action then slowly, almost imperceptibly moving forwards.

We then backtrack a couple of days to determine the the aetiology of Hussein's fate. He's not a career criminal, just an ordinary decent bloke made desperate by circumstances. A war veteran with health problems, he ekes out a precarious living as a pizza delivery boy and only wants to get together enough money to buy his fiancee some half-decent wedding jewelery.

Vaziri first refuses to let Hussein and his friend/brother-in-law to be enter his store – "try the lower part of town" – then insults them by suggesting they would be better buying pieces whose value stemmed more from material than workmanship since these could be more readily melted down for cash.

Little need be said about Crimson Gold than that it's an Iranian film from the people who brought you A Taste of Cherry and The White Balloon, among others.

Executed in a basically straightforward, unpretentious manner with the exception of the attention grabbing opening – perhaps modelled on Antonioni's The Passenger – it resolves itself as one of the better examples of the type, if a little lacking in originality.

Unobtrusive direction, naturalistic performances and humanist sentiment are de rigeur, then, along with the long sequences of guys driving around and, on this occasion, frequently impenetrable night-for-night visuals.

If you like the Iranian films you've seen, you'll probably like Crimson Gold. If you didn't you won't. If you haven't seen any, this is a worthwhile introduction…