The systematic modernization efforts undertaken in Iran during the Pahlavi era have garnered significant scholarly and academic attention. However, the historical trajectory of modern Iran, with its intricacies, focuses, and ups and downs, has predominantly been examined through the visions and initiatives of prominent historical institutions or figures with the goal of discovering a homogeneous and linear narrative of modern Iran, a tendency associated with historicism. According to Walter Benjamin, who with his colleagues at the Institute for Social Research in Frankfurt University is a staunch critic of the concept, historicism is predicated on three assumptions: (a) the myth of historical closure: historicism views the past as an unproblematic, static object of contemplation; (b) the myth of historical empathy: knowledge of the past is gained through empathy, in which one imagines oneself in the position of key historical figures to understand the past; and (c) the myth of historical progress: historicism asserts that although the past is indisputably finished, it is also unambiguously linked to the present through a chain of intervening events. History is therefore conceptualized as a continuum of events, representing linear progress culminating in the present.Footnote 1
Moreover, these examinations have primarily centered on the overarching political, economic, and social ramifications resulting from the endeavors of these institutions or personalities, with cultural transformations usually shadowed by “infrastructural” aspects. As a result, modernity in Iran has been considered a result of top-down modernization initiatives by official or elite players, with individuals acting as passive receivers.
Despite this, in alignment with the “cultural turn” in explorations of social history, there have been concerted efforts to study cultural aspects of modern Iran and Iran’s modernization and the everyday lives of Iranians who interacted, responded, demanded, and resisted the sweeping changes that targeted every facet of their existence, particularly in major urban centers such as Tehran.Footnote 2 Such cultural studies aspire to eschew historicism’s inclination to establish “a causal nexus among various moments in history” and inevitably sympathize with the rulers and victors, and instead pivot their focus toward the narrative of the ordinary, marginalized, and oppressed classes, those who have been “blasted out of the continuum of history,” but acted as key agents in the formation and evolution of vernacular modernisms and modern Iran. Nevertheless, a comprehensive cultural history of modern Iran remains a distant aspiration.Footnote 3
An intriguing question pertains to the identification of cultural articles that contain instances of metropolitan life of the Pahlavi era in Iran. A straightforward response to this query lies in the realm of Iranian cinema, especially the rich tapestry of Iranian cinema during Mohammad Reza’s reign. Cinema, as posited by Mark Shiel, is inherently a “spatial system,” entwined with urban spaces not solely through its extensive portrayal of metropolitan settings, themes, and incidents but also, as Richard Koeck and Les Roberts argue, through the resemblance of the interpretation of urban spaces to the experience of sequences in cinematic narratives.Footnote 4 Furthermore, the cinematic narration of urban spaces fundamentally hinges upon the artist’s perception and engagement with these spatial constructs, thereby making cinema a medium that allows exploration of the comprehension and interpretation of modern spaces.Footnote 5
Within the context of this article, three films have been identified that exhibit thematic and formal connections with urban spaces and the urban experiences of Tehran during the Pahlavi era. These films include Chaharrah-e Havades (The crossroad of events, Samuel Khachikian, 1955); Aghay-e Halu (Mr. Naive, Dariush Mehrjui, 1971); and Zir-e Pust-e Shab (Under the skin of night, Fereydun Gole, 1974). These cinematic works portray urban spaces as pivotal loci for their characters, and their plots are intricately woven around the urban issues prevalent during that era. The directors of these films actively harness Tehran as a central character, almost akin to an antagonist within the narrative. The specific metropolitan dimension of these films that the current analysis is centered upon pertains to the modern urban phenomenon of window-shopping.
The phenomenon of shop displays, described as a realm where “a new combination of aesthetics and business” emerges, first appeared in nineteenth-century European cities.Footnote 6 As urban landscapes saw a proliferation of neighboring competitive shops that offered a diverse array of products in modern boulevards, arcades, and subsequently department stores, owners of these establishments realized an imperative to craft their shop displays with an “assertive” and “seductive” quality, designed to win the attention of the constant flow of passersby, in competition with other attractions.Footnote 7 With incorporation of the latest trends, presentation of products in a visually enticing manner, and orchestration of special considerations such as lighting,Footnote 8 by the conclusion of the nineteenth century shop windows had reached an unprecedented zenith in their ability to captivate shoppers and onlookers, employing a theatrical dimension. Divided from the “outside” by an almost invisible and “penetrable” glass surface, the simulated interior spaces of shop windows proved to be ideal mediums for the “staged” exhibition of goods and products and for “dramatizing” the merchandise, persuading allured and mesmerized observers into the shop itself.Footnote 9 Consequently, “the shop window became a proscenium for visual enchantment, a site of enticement for consumer desire”: the desire for commodities and the accompanying “commodification of desire,” recognized by Graeme Gilloch as the hallmark of metropolitan existence, attains its most captivating and theatrical embodiment in these displays.Footnote 10 Although the initial function of shop displays was to compel potential buyers to enter the shop and make purchases, their significance transcended the realm of retail economics. Their attractions beckoned the urban populace to practice the act of “shopping” and consumption without actually buying anything, deriving pleasure from the experience all the same.Footnote 11 The practice of window-shopping emerged as an imaginative act of observation, peculiar to the metropolitan experience. It forged novel connections between the act of looking and that of buying, kindling the desire to possess in an indirect manner, through the eye, thereby nurturing the yearning to possess. It also played a pivotal role in Karl Marx’s “commodity fetishism,” because in these venues, as noted by Georg Simmel, “principles of external stimulus and the practical functions of objects” were synthesized, elevating products “in accordance with their surface aesthetics.”Footnote 12
With the metamorphosis of the cityscape in Iran, characterized by the expansion and renewal of older streets and the construction of new thoroughfares, most notably in Tehran—mirroring the Haussmannization of Paris—Footnote 13modern retail establishments began to proliferate along elegant boulevards, in shopping centers and arcades, a trend that continued throughout Mohammad Reza Pahlavi’s reign. With the Haussmannianization of urban networks, various sectors of the city were interlinked, and with the implementation of public transportation systems available to the general public, the desire to shop and consume was no longer the exclusive domain of the traditional elite. This, in combination with the abundance of Western products and the state’s active promotion of the adoption of Western lifestyles and consumer practices, the fetishistic desire to consume gradually permeated all parts of society.Footnote 14 Nevertheless, the nature of this desire and its actualization varied significantly across socioeconomic groups due to the escalating class tensions and the heterogeneous composition of Tehran’s populace. In this context, window-shopping played a pivotal role as a distinctive modern cultural attribute, because, in addition to providing a novel form of pleasure in itself, it awakened the desire for new goods and longing for a beautiful and even luxurious way of life, and actually displayed this promised modern urban life.Footnote 15 But for someone unable to make an actual purchase, these shop displays simultaneously signaled the failure of these promises. This particular window-shopper’s gaze would have had a covetous edge.
This assertion is underscored by the selected film case studies. Each is characterized by a critical perspective, featuring protagonists from the lower class (Crossroad of events), immigrants to the metropolis (Mr. Naive), and outcasts (Under the skin of night), all of whom engage in the experience of window-shopping, with all its delightful, imaginative, consumerist, and sorrowful connotations for people of lower social and economic status. In the forthcoming sections, a comprehensive analysis of each film is presented, focusing on the manner in which shop displays are portrayed in the narratives and how these displays elicit desires, hopes, promises, and also fears and alleged corruptions in the characters of the story. The responses of individuals to these emotional stimuli and the interconnection of window-shopping and their broader encounters with the modern urban landscape of Tehran after the 1950s are highlighted. This period coincides with the intensification of Mohammad Reza Pahlavi’s modernization efforts and his extravagant visions of a modern Iran, understood as an industrial “super welfare state,” on par with Western countries, “combining intellectual and political well-being with religious conviction and spirituality.”Footnote 16
The Desire to Possess: The Crossroad of Events
The narrative of this 1955 film, directed by Khachikian, referred to as the “Alfred Hitchcock of Iranian cinema” for pioneering the thriller and crime genre in IranFootnote 17, centers around a young man, Farid (Nasser Malek-Motiei), hailing from a lower socioeconomic background. Circumstances force him to abandon his education to provide for his family following his father’s demise. Initially, he embarks on a career in a woodworking shop, but he is subsequently dismissed due to an altercation with a malevolent colleague. This setback, coupled with his financial struggles, leads to the decision of his fiancée, Nahid (Vida Ghahremani), to marry a wealthier suitor instead. Faced with the pressures of his social and economic predicament, Farid ultimately becomes entangled with a criminal gang led by Salim (Arman) and agrees to orchestrate a jewelry store heist. In this film, widely popular at the time of its release, the director addresses the prominent issue of the “widened … gap between, on one hand, what the regime promised, claimed, and achieved, and, on the other hand, what the public expected, [and] obtained.”Footnote 18 The film portrays individuals like Farid as beneficiaries of the widely publicized reforms that aimed to make education accessible to those of low socioeconomic means. However, Farid’s circumstances compel him to forego his educational pursuits to meet the more immediate needs of his family. Khachikian seeks to underscore that individuals like Farid, trapped within the confines of this “gap,” find themselves bereft of opportunities to realize the promises of the state and the modern city. Consequently, they perceive no viable alternative to engaging in a life of crime. Initially Farid, influenced by traditional values such as righteousness and earning money in a ḥalāl way,Footnote 19 declines the invitation to join Salim’s criminal enterprise. However, the temptation of the modern city gradually prevails, particularly after an incident of window-shopping at a jewelry store display, leading Farid to succumb to temptation and agree to join Salim’s criminal team. It is precisely the potent allure epitomized by the window-shopping scene that constitutes the focal point of the current analysis.
The film commences with extensive shots of modern Tehran, capturing the bustling streets teeming with automobiles and the mass of pedestrians. Khachikian establishes the city as a central character through these initial sequences. The rapid succession of shots within the busy streetscape generates a palpable sense of metropolitan frenzy and delirium, within which Farid emerges as a metropolitan subject. Overwhelmed by his circumstances, he engages in idle stroll. It is during this bout of aimless wandering that he chances upon the shop display of a jewelry store, a store similar to the target of Salim’s criminal crew. The director skillfully captures the desolate nocturnal streets, transitioning to neon lights that, as nighttime suns, cast (borrowing Nicholas Kenny’s description) the “fine soft pale light” of commodities over the streets at night, when they will not be overwhelmed by the sun and are more likely to ignite the flames of desire.Footnote 20 A long shot of Farid traversing the same street ensues, passing luminous establishments, while his internal monologue replays conversations reflecting his present destitution. The dark and unsightly street appears to mirror his economic hardships, juxtaposed with the luminous and enticing shops adjacent to him, symbolizing prospects beyond his grasp. This spatial configuration poignantly symbolizes his inner turmoil.
Suddenly, the seduction of one particular shop prevails, compelling him to halt in front of it. Farid surveys the vacant street reminiscent of his destitution, and then redirects his gaze to the display of a jewelry store, which offers itself as a spectacle to gaze on, a display that reflects the desires of its audience.Footnote 21 The echoes in his mind grow more pronounced as the camera gradually advances toward him to increase the subjective nature of the scene. The conflict that rages within him intensifies as the director employs rapid cuts between shots of passing cars, their headlights illuminating and cutting through heart of the darkness. The allure of the lights, both manifest and provocative of his inner temptations, gains ascendancy. Farid, standing before the shop display, is split in two, with an “evil” version of himself appearing beside him. This malevolent counterpart chuckles and, with a taunting tone, inquires, “What do you think, Farid?” The film draws a parallel between this alluring voice and the radiant enticements enveloping Farid, as the director juxtaposes shots of neon lights, blinking billboards, and the jewelry store display. A point-of-view shot from Farid’s perspective is then employed, revealing the seductive jewelry in the display. Bathed in intense light, the jewels are separated from Farid’s reality by a fragile pane of glass, but at the same time appear almost ethereal, distant and unattainable. The camera subsequently captures Farid from inside the display, his gaze fixated with desire. The camera’s frame is divided into two horizontal sections: the lower portion displays the coveted jewelry, while in the upper half we observe Farid, separated from his desires, surrounded by darkness. The malevolent alter ego reappears by his side, continuing his conversation: “Well, what do you think? Did you see how she looked down on you? I’m sure she’s laughing at you right now.” Simultaneously, Salim’s apparition emerges on his other side, asserting, “I know you’ll come back.” Both apparitions jeer at him and gradually fade away. One cannot overlook the theatrical mise-en-scène, especially the static shots of this scene. Rosalind Williams arguesFootnote 22 that it was “through exploiting a sense of the theatrical” that the jewelry succeeded in exerting a “fascinating hold” on Farid in the first place, and made him stop in front of it amid his fierce mental occupations.
Subsequently, the camera returns to Farid’s point of view, panning across the scenery of the jewelry that adorns the set of this theatrical presentation. Suddenly, Nahid’s countenance appears on the jewelry, concealed behind the glass, and she too, derisively laughs, while gazing fiercely at him. This is reminiscent of the line “Lit up like shops to lure their trade,” from Charles Baudelaire’s twenty-sixth poem in Les Fleurs du Mal.Footnote 23 Just like Baudelaire’s femme, as analyzed by Anne Friedberg, Nahid’s gaze “is made of ‘borrowed power’ … from the lure of the luxury items” in the jewelry’s shop window.Footnote 24 In this context, Nahid serves as both a metropolitan promise and a commodity, akin to the jewelry, equally enticing and equally unattainable. The director establishes a connection between the allure of commodities and the erotic allure of Nahid, conjoining the fetishization of commodities with the commodification of the female body.
Janet Ward discusses “re-auratization, reenchantment, or monumentalization”Footnote 25 of the instances of daily experience in the urban consumer context, such as in shop displays. Accordingly, Farid’s love for Nahid, and Nahid herself, are transformed and reenchanted in a way that makes Farid give in to temptations and abandon his binding traditional values of righteousness to join Salim’s criminal gang, a final resort to realizing the affluent consumerist modern life that the cityscape and the state had promised but failed to deliver. In this way, Crossroad of events critiques both the inadequacy of Mohammad Reza’s modernization initiatives and, like many other cultural works of the time, the consumerist way of life in urban cities.Footnote 26 The glamor of this lifestyle was seen as a threat to traditional moral values of righteousness and to leading a simple, contented life.
The Desire to Be Metropolitan: Mr. Naive
Mr. Naive, the third feature film by the esteemed director Mehrjui, revolves around an unassuming villager who relocates to Tehran with the intention of marrying a metropolitan woman and starting a new life in the capital. During the Pahlavi era, especially during Mohammad Reza’s reign, urban life and its modern opportunities were highly publicized, and rural individuals were compelled or, more often, forced to leave their rural residences for a better life in urban centers.Footnote 27 Mr. Naive represents one of these individuals, who chooses the attractions of a modern life at the heart of the state’s reformist and modernization endeavors in Tehran. The film aligns with myriad works of art that sought to caution rural inhabitants about the perceived threats and perils lurking beneath the veneer of cities like Tehran, replete with attractions.Footnote 28 These works served as critiques of Mohammad Reza’s modernization project and his fascination with urbanization, deemed as Westernization of Iran by its opponents, through employment of a “rural-versus-urban” dichotomy.Footnote 29 Mr. Naive personifies the unadorned and virtuous villagers of Iran, unburdened by the complexities and “absurd” dynamics of major urban centers. He harbors a deep love for Iranian culture and poetry and remains committed to preserving his Iranian heritage, upholding virtues such as spiritualism over materialism, and chastity, honesty, and righteousness—a pursuit he will soon realize is untenable in the confines of modern Tehran.
The film unfolds with Mr. Naive embarking on a bus journey, symbolically transitioning from the serenity of his village to the tumultuous urban landscape of Tehran. His entry into the city is marked by bewilderment in the face of the city’s relentless dynamism and commotion, and he struggles to navigate his way through the bustling metropolis. The deceptive attractions of the city promptly captivate and ensnare him, leading the unsophisticated and “naive” man to fall prey to the cunning schemes of shrewd Tehranians. Although the city’s industrial and technological advancements, along with its bewildering dynamism, hold his interest, it is the city’s erotic and sexual dimensions that exert the greatest influence. At one point, he pauses before a shop display. The director cuts to advertisements and posters featuring women in erotic attire or poses. Then a panoramic shot reveals that Mr. Naive is watching these posters in front of a newspaper stand that also features magazines with erotic graphics. Mehrjui demonstrates an awareness of the “shop-window quality of things” within the metropolis, as observed by Simmel, portraying Tehran as an expansive display of attractions. Mr. Naive is continually engaged in a form of window-shopping, whether it be in front of actual shop displays or other attractions that surround him.Footnote 30
Under the sway of the metropolis’s erotic aspects, Mr. Naive embarks on an adventurous and eventful journey through Tehran, succumbing to the enticements of the store windows, that, as Ward describes, were “the primary mise-en-scène of the designs and desires … host to the daily (and especially nightly) acts of seduction that occurred on the city street.”Footnote 31 During the night, as he strolls along like a flaneur,Footnote 32 he pauses before a women’s lingerie shop. Initially, he feels awkward and embarrassed, but as he looks around and realizes that no one pays him any mind, he shares an experience akin to the flaneur character of Edgar Allan Poe’s short story, Man of the Crowd. As Baudelaire states about this story, the flaneur is “at the center of the world, yet remains hidden from the world”; Mr. Naive decides to savor being “incognito.”Footnote 33 Now he can engage in activities he could not in his native rural spaces because he would be recognized. He proceeds to fully immerse himself in window-shopping, indulging his suppressed sexual desires through the imaginative world presented by the displays. He encounters more explicit and erotic situations, particularly standing before a cinema featuring a poster for an erotic film. Other men surround him, all entranced by the city’s seductive imagery. Enjoying his guise of urban incognito, Mr. Naive examines the images closely. These images leave an indelible mark on his mind, so much so that upon retiring to his room for the night he dreams of a blonde woman resembling the characters in the images he encountered during the night. As she emerges from the city, entering the confines of his room through the window that opens to the city landscape, he experiences a climax in his slumber, abruptly waking up. The commodified female body, produced and offered by the city, has left an unmistakable imprint on Mr. Naive, an impression that will only grow stronger through the following day. Now, he appears more resolute than ever about fulfilling the erotic desires instigated by the fetishism commodified by the city.
The following day, he engages in window-shopping once again, this time with a practical purpose. He first lingers before a shop that retails bedroom technologies, such as hair dryers. His gaze fixates on an image displayed in the window, featuring a Western woman beneath a hair dryer. Mesmerized by the woman, he becomes intrigued with the device, despite his lack of familiarity with its function. As this instance shows, Mehrjui is aware of the effects of sexualizing the commodity. In the next instance, Mr. Naive engages with the commodification of sexuality when he happens upon another shop, one specializing in the sale of Western women’s clothing. The camera initially captures him from behind, with the display featuring two mannequins donning wedding attire before him. It becomes apparent that this shop offers precisely what Mr. Naive is seeking: “attractive” women eagerly anticipating marriage. A point-of-view shot is employed as Mr. Naive scrutinizes one of the mannequins closely. This mannequin, posing in a seductive manner, resembles a real woman with an “ideal” shape.
The scene is reminiscent of Emile Zola’s Ladies’ Paradise, in which mannequins with “well-rounded necks and graceful figures” that “exaggerated the slimness of the waist” attract the passerby to “these beautiful women for sale”;Footnote 34 as described in Friedberg’s analysis of Zola, “the store window makes the equation between women and commodity quite explicit.” The female body and the dress are instances of the same commodity, and Mr. Naive inspects both. The camera then tilts downward, revealing the mannequin’s idealized physique adorned with the wedding gown. Mehrjui employs the erotic female mannequin to allude to the commodification of women in modern consumerist culture. This fleeting encounter is sufficient to entice Mr. Naive into the shop. His intention goes beyond acquiring the gown; he aspires to obtain both the dress and the body that wears it, essentially seeking to purchase the attractive woman he has envisioned.
Once inside, Mr. Naive is further captivated by the mannequins inside the shop, one of which bears an uncanny resemblance to the woman of his dreams. The fetishistic character of Mr. Naive’s experiences of commodity cater to the imagination. This ignited imagination serves as a conduit for the “construction of daydreams.”Footnote 35 Mr. Naive begins to daydream about marrying this mannequin-come-to-life, only to awaken to the realization of his dream: Mehri (Fakhri Khorvash), the first genuine woman he encounters and instantly falls in love with. He kindly requests Mehri to try on the gown. As she emerges from the dressing room, dressed in the gown, the director captures her image in a manner reminiscent of the mannequins adorned with gowns. What unfolds in this scene is not an elevation of the mannequins that previously captivated Mr. Naive to human status; rather, it is Mehri who is reduced to a mannequin. As Ward astutely observes, the woman as mannequin “epitomized the general trend of modernity toward composing the body as surface.”Footnote 36 Under the influence of the seductive and fetishized surfaces—those of the mannequins—Mr. Naive perceives Mehri solely as a commodity with a fetishized surface. This is evident in his endeavors to make Mehri fall in love with him, expressed through his acts of buying her expensive items and adorning her with jewelry. In essence, he seeks to purchase her and her affection.
After this encounter, Mr. Naive receives harsh lessons from the manipulative and “unchaste” behavior of Mehri, who is the actualized form of the city’s alluring display; she turns out to be a danger to Mr. Naive and everything he holds dear. He quickly discovers the full implications of the commodification of everything and everyone in the modern city. With stark realization, he learns that Mehri is, quite literally, a commodity: a prostitute, the ultimate commodified spectacle of a consumer society.Footnote 37 It becomes apparent that his values of family, honor, chastity, and virtue have no place in such a society. Disheartened, Mr. Naive decides to leave the city and return to his village. Through this journey, the director offers a critique of the commodified relationships that govern life in the modern metropolis. Through the lens of the erotic and fetishistic attraction of commodities, the film highlights how individuals are deceived into forsaking their genuine and spiritual homes to pursue a corrupted and corrupting life dictated by Western commodity culture.
The Need to Satisfy the Desire: Under the Skin of Night
Under the skin of night by Fereydun Gole is a notable example of Iranian street cinema. With this film and Kandū (The hive), released a year later, Gole established himself as a director of urban drama films, addressing issues such as the social stratification of Tehran.Footnote 38 In Under the skin of night, in which the urban spaces of Tehran assume the role of a primary antagonist, Ghasem (Morteza Aghili), a wanderer and tramp, becomes the central figure traversing its streets.
During one of his daily wanderings, Ghasem encounters a female tourist (Susan Gilber) spending her last hours in Iran. Despite communication problems due to their language barrier, they engage in an extensive stroll through the city. Ghasem hopes to find a place for them to have sex before she departs, however, his attempts prove fruitless. His friend cannot assist him, as his elderly father is at home that day. Moreover, his mother, a religious woman, vehemently rejects his request, refusing to accommodate “indecent acts” such as hosting a foreign woman. The local hotel’s management denies Ghasem entry to the woman’s room, emphasizing their unmarried status. In the film’s tragic concluding scenes, disillusioned by everyone and every place, Ghasem seeks help from the wealthy sons of the home where his mother works, requesting the use of their house for a few hours. However, the young men cunningly deceive Ghasem, taking the foreign woman for themselves and brutally assaulting Ghasem. Rejected on all fronts, the couple engages in public sex beneath a truck, only to be exposed as the vehicle departs. The police apprehend them in the act, escorting the woman to the airport and incarcerating Ghasem in a cell, the only private confinement the city offers individuals like him. With this film, Gole illustrates how the modern city and its opportunities are not accessible to individuals like Ghasem, who are enamored with the city, enticed by its attractions and temptations, heed its promises of a modern, sexually liberated, consumerist lifestyle, and strive to assimilate to its urban fabric to enjoy its opportunities.
The film narrates Ghasem’s rejection and disillusionment. He initially believes that the city and its streets are his home, and that he can partake in its opportunities. When he meets the foreign woman, he believes that finding a “home” will be the least of his concerns, that the entire city is his abode. However, as the day turns into night, the harsh reality of the city becomes evident; the luminous attractions and on-display nature of the city become apparent. This “slices up people into those who live ‘behind’ the display window (i.e., in possession of the goods), and those who must remain ‘in front’ of it, unable to purchase what they see.”Footnote 39 The couple, and specifically Ghasem, belong to the class “who live ‘behind’ the display window,” a point that Gole illustrates with the couple’s frustration regarding their position in front of the window. This theme of separation and being in front of the display, permitted to watch and but not to touch, is recurrent, such as when the two wealthy young men engage in sexual activity with the foreign woman in their mansion, and Ghasem can only watch them from outside through a window that forms a transparent and narrow barrier dividing his reality from his desires, as well as in the more subtle instances of window-shopping.
In the first instances of urban display, such as when he is entranced by erotic imagery on the magazines at a newsstand, the city seduces Ghasem with images that appear to be within reach. He eagerly gazes at the semi-naked women featured on magazine covers, increasingly intrigued. The film suggests that Ghasem is bombarded with erotic promises throughout his daily life. These promises are evident at newsstands and, interestingly, at his workplace, a cinema, the ultimate generator of images and fantasies in the modern city, which also acts as his home, because he sleeps there. The cinema features an erotic poster starring a woman seductively posed in front of a young man who, incidentally, resembles Ghasem. Ghasem stops and voraciously stares at this poster.
It is noteworthy that both the magazines and the posters prominently feature Latin script, underscoring Gole’s emphasis on the Western origin of the erotic visual culture of the metropolis, a belief that “became widespread across ideological divisions” of the time.Footnote 40 However, unlike the prevailing trend in Iranian new wave cinema, which typically criticizes the corrupting influence of this imported Western culture that commodifies sexuality and sexualizes commodity, Gole’s critique primarily revolves around the inaccessibility of these attractions and modern images to lower classes of society, irrespective of the moral implications. Throughout Gole’s film the apparently attainable imagery presented by the city, exhibiting the state’s promise of a “decent life in the booming cities,”Footnote 41 proves to be unattainable.
Constant exposure to erotic stimuli and an inability to satisfy the desires they provoke contribute to Ghasem’s mental turmoil and conflict. This inner difficulty is aptly portrayed when Ghasem, in his idle wandering before he meets the foreign lady, pauses in front of a shop that specializes in fantasy items, featuring unusual toys and dolls. Ghasem exhibits a particular fascination with this array of deformed and contorted objects, suggestive of his inner turmoil, delirium, and probably his “dark” fantasies and desires. When later he encounters the foreign woman in a park, they establish eye contact, leading Ghasem to believe that the tourist shares his curiosity and interest. They accompany each other, even though they are unable to communicate verbally. It becomes apparent that the woman is amenable to engaging in an intimate encounter with Ghasem. As they traverse the streets, they continue to engage in window-shopping while Ghasem contemplates finding an accommodation where they can fulfill their sexual desires.
Time elapses, and each of Ghasem’s efforts to secure accommodations proves futile. As night descends, his disappointment intensifies. This is accentuated by the illumination of electric light emanating from shops and houses, which underscores the stark division between his reality and the world he aspires to attain. The streets come to life with a flurry of activity, as bright pockets of light punctuate the night. Ghasem remarks to the foreign woman, “They’ve illuminated the entire city tonight, as if a grand celebration is underway.” Everyone is joyful except them. The disheartened couple proceeds to walk hand in hand through the dark and bustling streets. After some time, there is a compelling episode of shared daydreaming induced by cannabis, during which the couple envisions an intimate encounter. It is interesting that Ghasem can not enjoy even his daydreams without tension, because a strange man keeps intruding on the couple’s privacy in this episode. It becomes apparent that Ghasem is plagued by obstacles and fears even in his dreams. This will recur in the following instance of window-shopping, the most pivotal of these encounters in the film, in which the couple gaze through the display of a shop that specializes in luxury bedroom accoutrements. A tranquil and dimly lit expansive bedroom adorned with plush, commodious beds is before them: the ideal manifestation of their desires, a home where they can satisfy their corporeal needs. As in the window-shopping scene in Crossroad of events, the camera’s perspective shifts inward to the shop’s interior, capturing the couple as they peer longingly through the shop window, separated merely by a sheet of glass. This window plays a double role, because the shop display window “is at once proximity and distance, intimacy and the refusal of intimacy.”Footnote 42 The couple can see but can not touch, making the shop window a site of simultaneous pleasure and frustration. The camera subsequently focuses on a close-up of Ghasem’s eyes, which shift from the display to the woman. The scene transitions to the couple, holding hands, as they continue to gaze at the display. In the background, neon lights insidiously flicker like watching eyes in a manner that can be read as both the city’s luminous allure and its watchful gaze on the outcast figure of Ghasem, ensuring his physical inaccessibility to the spectacle.
Subsequently, the film enters a highly subjective montage sequence. The modern metropolis and its displays offering enchanting image spaces of commodities enables spectators, who are drawn into a hypnotic, dreamlike state by the bombardment of stimuli, to move fluidly among a variety of these virtual image spaces. In this montage sequence—the depiction of Ghasem’s imagination—the power of the display stimulates the spectator’s imagination, enabling Ghasem to traverse from his body space to the image space before him. The metropolitan subject can practice this fluidity of imagination from an ardent desire for the emancipatory opportunities offered by such a “decorporialized [sic] subjectivity.”Footnote 43 But in Ghasem’s case, this opportunity is the only, best chance for satisfying his desires, and it is a sad alternative. Ghasem’s erotic and consumerist impulses can only be fulfilled through voyeurism, and “the pleasure which comes from the imaginative use of the objects seen.”Footnote 44 Through this sequence, Ghasem’s point of view shifts from outside the shop’s barrier to inside, with handheld camera shots capturing Ghasem’s gaze moving amid the shop’s items. Within this subjective imagery and the off-limits dwelling he has ventured into, the woman comes into view, initially seated on the large bed. Ghasem’s gaze shifts back to the shop, and then back again to the woman, who is now lying naked on the bed, akin to a coveted commodity, alongside other objects.
This tragic alternative to fulfilling his dreams serves as Gole’s poignant critique of the social and economic disparities in Tehran, where the modern experience for individuals like Ghasem is confined to mere imaginative fulfillment. However, this critique takes on an even more sorrowful tone, because the traumatized Ghasem, much like in the cannabis-fueled daydreaming episode, cannot achieve his desires even in his imagination; his fears resurface with even greater intensity and menace. The rival gang from the vicinity of the cinema where Ghasem had been employed make an appearance in his imagination. They had previously assaulted him, preventing him from resuming his job at the cinema. Their presence, as they stand guard over the bed and the naked woman, marks the end of his reverie, and Ghasem is thrust back into somber reality. He is now acutely aware that all the promises made to him by the city in earlier scenes—of power, elevated social standing, wealth, and a sumptuous life marked by sensual and fetishistic consumption—are unattainable aspirations. He awakens from his state of enchantment, which had induced amnesia and denial of his social and economic status, to confront the harsh reality of his homelessness. Shocked by this abrupt awakening, he resorts to perilous and imprudent acts of revolt to assert himself and his desires upon the city, including soliciting accommodations from the wealthy young men for whom his mother works. This attempt results in degradation and a brutal beating. He then proceeds to engage in public intercourse with the woman in the streets beneath a truck, ending in reprimand and detention by the authorities.
The police vehicle transports him away from the cityscape to his only true abode: the prison cell. This transition is emphasized by Gole, emblematic in shots of the car passing the Shahyad (Azadi) tower, the primary monument to Tehran as a city on the path of progress,Footnote 45 surrounded by lights and dynamism, imposed on the image of a lonely Ghasem in his prison cell. After portraying Ghasem in his only and final home, the camera captures the empty streets of Tehran, replete with towering modern edifices. A street sweeper diligently tends to the thoroughfare. Mohammad Reza Pahlavi’s progressive capital, intended to serve as the unifying, affluent, and modern center of the proud nation–state ultimately marginalizes and excludes individuals like Ghasem, who are treated as detritus polluting the landscape.
Conclusion
During the Pahlavi era, Iran’s modernization efforts, with a central focus on shaping a modern image of Iran, entailed substantial endeavors to reshape metropolises such as Tehran as the primary stage of this nascent identity. The state, through profound alterations to the urban landscape and the importation of modern Western visual culture and its urban patterns and traits, as well as the prevalence of novel economic means and modern consumerism in urban centers, effectively transformed these metropolises into sites of attractions and displays. In this context, various visual attractions, including shop displays, billboards, posters, and cinemas, came to dominate the newly configured streets and boulevards adorned with a plethora of shops, cafes, and the modern dynamism of automobiles and public transportation, harnessing the power of the gaze of the citizens.
In the present article, the phenomenon of shop displays, which serve as quintessential exemplars of modern visual culture and the on-display nature of the modern metropolis, and the interactions of subjects from lower economic and social classes with these displays, are analyzed through three films. The realm of shop displays and the act of window-shopping are depicted in Crossroad of events (1955), Mr. Naive (1971), and Under the skin of night (1974), during a period when consumerism assumed a preeminent role and was characteristic of metropolises like Tehran. In these films, the experiences of marginalized and neglected actors in Mohammad Reza Pahlavi’s Iran are portrayed as they interact with the modern urban landscape.
In these films, Tehran is as an enchanting site of spectacles, with shop displays assuming the primary role, replete with their irresistible appeal and promises of an affluent consumerist life. The displays are instrumental in instigating desires intertwined with commodity fetishism, and the commodifying of sexuality by the characters. Moreover, all three instances include scenes objectifying the female body, symbolizing this commodified sexuality. Crossroad of events and Under the skin of night depict the female body as one of the promises of commodity culture that has been withheld from Farid and Ghasem, whereas Mr. Naive criticizes this commodification of the female body, not for the sake of women, but because of values such as honor, chastity, and the family. Women’s issues, as in most of the male-authored works of the era, are not primary concerns in these films.
Furthermore, analysis indicates that all three films, through their depiction of window-shopping experiences by marginalized or poverty-stricken characters, are critiques of consumerism. However, there are differences in the critical attitudes and nuances of each film. The critical focus of Crossroad of events highlights disparities that exist between metropolitan groups. Here, the character Farid, of a lower socioeconomic status, is tantalized by the state’s promises of an affluent modern life, expressed by the urban visual culture and the ostensibly accessible opportunities it dangles before him. However, he soon realizes these promises are unattainable for him; the display of a jewelry shop manifests all the promises and opportunities unavailable to him. The enticing displays intensify his desires for a consumerist life. Unable to actualize his aspirations, he is compelled to embrace a life of crime as his only chance to fulfill these desires. The film contends that such unrealistic and unrealizable promises contribute to crime and abandonment of traditional and social values.
Conversely, the film Mr. Naive emphasizes not the unfulfilled promises of the state and modern life, but rather the adverse effects that the realization (or merely the display) of such promises, deemed Western and Westernizing, has on traditional Iranian values such as chastity, kindness, spirituality, and family. This is illustrated by examining the impact of the city, particularly its shop displays, on Mr. Naive, a character portrayed as rural, not yet afflicted by Western values and lifestyle, and therefore authentically Iranian. Mr. Naive becomes ensnared by modern attractions and commodity fetishism, leading him toward a life that threatens traditional values. These values find no place in the reality concealed beneath surface attractions that the shop displays epitomize. This film, utilizing the dichotomy of rural versus urban, criticizes the surge of migration to urban centers, where threats of Westernization loom large. It compares the decadent modern and Western lifestyle prevalent in urban centers like Tehran with the simple but culturally rich life in rural areas.
On the other hand, Under the skin of night, much like Crossroad of events, highlights the infeasibility of the state’s modernization promises and its urban centers with their enchanting charms. However, going further, in this film shop displays become sites of class consciousness; Ghasem, the central character, who hails from the lower strata of society, is an “outcast” of the metropolis. His state of degradation and spiritual as well as literal homelessness highlights the disparity between the promises made by the city and its actual treatment of individuals like Ghasem. Although the urban display, especially its shop displays, offers attractions that seem tantalizingly close, for Ghasem they remain perpetually out of reach. Over the course of the film, he comes to realize that he will never be able to inhabit the world “behind the window,” and the best he can aspire to is to be immersed in dreams of the luminous “other side” while confined within the darkness of his material existence. His only actual abode is the desolate and squalid streets, and finally a prison cell. In Crossroad of events, Farid becomes a direct threat to a city that leaves him no alternative but to be a threat, whereas Ghasem is rendered powerless and is effectively removed from the city, ensnared in a space he cannot transcend.
These films, although critical, should not be deemed “anti-modern.” Their primary targets are the state and its failure to actualize the promises of modern life (as seen in Crossroad of events and Under the skin of night), and the state’s notion of modernity, or the Westernization of Iran and the corruption of an Iranian Islamic lifestyle and values (as in Crossroad of events and Mr. Naive).
