Taste of Cherry

Kiarostami strikes again with another provocative film, very much in the same vein as his others: drawn out films that involve a very introspective soul-searching of all of the character's involved, and in so doing, finding some more meaning to the idea of what life is all about.

From the beginning to the end, Kiarostami gives us a complex script of characters that we come into contact with, and as we learn about each one, we learn more about the idea of life. What makes the film very interesting for a Western viewer is that I find closer to Kiarostami's Iran after each of his films that I watch, and become more informed to it. We learn intimate details about the lives of several Iranians.

Throughout the film I found that, although like many of his films it was quite slow-paced, it contained the extraordinarily rich dialog that is expected of a Kiarostami film. His films advance through their rich dialog while using the dusty Iranian landscape as their backdrop. I found a lot of the cinematography to be terrific, viewing the city from a distance and looking into the dusty foot-hills on the outskirts of Tehran. It is more than poetic to see a man at the end of his rope searching through the dust and faces of Tehran's poor laborers for answers about life and death. In many ways, the film is a large metaphor for the human state of affairs.

The film culminates very well, and we all eventually find our own taste of cherry in the film. I always feel as if Kiarostami's films are a very philosophical experience, and are quite personal. In this sense, Kiarostami's films are amongst the best that I have seen.

However, they are undoubtedly slower paced than other films, and they require the viewer to detach himself from any western stereotypes that he has about film. This would not be a good film for somebody expecting action or a typical Western film, but rather, this would be a film that I would recommend only to those who are in the mood for an insightful, philosophical film that shows an alternative view of life. Overall, it was an emotionally powerful film that will stick out in my memory as all Kiarostami films do.

My first taste of Kiarostami, whom I've read about for years. I was

worried that, as a filmmaker, Kiarostami would be as inaccessible

as Godard in the 80s. I was pleasantly surprised by A TASTE OF

CHERRY. It's a linear narrative, and the film's early ambiguity

concerning the driver's quest kept me guessing (I knew nothing

about this film going in, which was a real plus). The film's unusual

visual style, particularly the long unedited takes, works surprisingly

well for this type of story. I can understand why traditional

American filmgoers would be bored to tears by A TASTE OF

CHERRY, but for fans of independent and foreign film, it's a

worthwhile investment of your time. It probably works better with

an older audience that can identify with the world-weary

characters.

"I understand how difficulty you have comprehending the last scene of this movie. I sympathize with you. But this has been deliberate on my part. In "Taste of Cherry" I have tried to keep a distance between my spectator and the protagonist. I didn't want spectators emotionally involved in this film. In this film, I tell you very little about Mr. Badie, I tell you very little about what his life is about, why he wanted to commit suicide, what his story is I didn't want the spectators get engaged in those aspects of his life. For that purpose I had to keep Mr. Badie away from the audience. So he is a distant actor in a way. First I thought to end the movie at the point when he laid down on his grave but later I changed my mind. I was uncomfortable to end it at that point because I was very concerned, and am always concerned, about my spectators. I do not want to take them hostage. I do not want to take their emotions hostage. It is very easy for a film-maker to control the emotions of spectators but I do not like that. I do not want to see my audience as innocent children whose emotions are easily manipulable.

I was afraid that if I ended the movie where Mr. Badie laid down on his grave the spectator would be left with a great deal of sadness. Even though I didn't think the scene was really that sad, I was afraid that it would come out as such. For that reason I decided to have the next episode where we have the camera running as Mr. Badie was walking around. I wanted to remind spectators that this was really a film and that they shouldn't think about this as a reality. They should not become involved emotionally. This is much like some of our grandmothers who told us stories, some with happy and some with sad endings. But they always at the end would have a Persian saying which went like this "but after all it is just a story! . . . The very last episode reminds me of the continuation of life, that life goes on, and here the audience is confronted with the reality they had hoped that Mr. Badie would be alive and there he is a part of nature and nature still continues and life goes on even without Mr. Badie. And if one could really think about being or not being present in life, or if one thinks about it in terms of the real implication of such presence, one might not in fact engage in committing suicide at all. The person committing suicide might think that s/he is taking revenge from the society, nature, life, powers to be, and so on. But s/he don't realize that after a suicide life still goes on and things stay the way they are. I could interpret this in a different way. If my audience is as creative as I imagine them to be, they can take this in a variety of interpretations and I can sit here and every time make a different interpretation of it, as every time one can creatively reinterpret the reality. "

I have watched many films dealing with the theme "life & death". But this is the greatest one. The story is simple (even incomplete) but I think Abbas tells us too much.

Through the dialogue between different people from different classes, everyone has his own attitude about "life & death". I think we can't say which is right & which is wrong. Abbas only gives it to us & let us think for ourselves.

Every scene is simple & ordinary, but has a certain strange fascination. I have seen "Through The Olive Trees" before (also directed by Abbas). To be honest, I don't like it, although it's said to be a good film. But this one is different. "Go see it" is what I want to say.

Although I've seen many movies from other Iranian and Middle Eastern directors, this is the first I've watched from the late director, Abbas Kiarostami. And like some of those others - Nuri Ceylan from Turkey comes to mind - Kiarostami, in this story, exclusively concentrates on questions about the human condition. Specifically, it's about the self-destructive urge by one man. And it is here that Kiarostami inverts the whole idea of helping those who contemplate suicide.

Suicide, in itself, is a ready and obvious turn-off for many viewers, probably. And coupled with the apparent treacle-like pace of the narrative and the repetitive scenes of a lone man, Badii (Homayoun Ershadi), driving in and around hills outside Tehran, this story gives a whole new dimension to the idea of going over the same ground, again and again, to prove a point. And all the while we, as viewer, are inside the auto for most of this movie, up close and very personal....

But to avoid seeing this movie would be a big mistake, in my opinion.

I say that simply because the idea of suicide has probably occurred to most people, including myself, at some time in their lives. Whether that idea was part of Kiarostami's motivation for making this movie, we will never know, of course. I dare say it occurred to him, though.

At the first frame, we're in Baddii's well-worn Range Rover as he drives, his face set, his gaze wandering here and there, searching for a likely assistant for his plan to kill himself. In sequence, he stops a variety of men - a seminarian, a young soldier, a security guard; each man and Badii converse about his need to have somebody help him to suicide, Badii describing what a helper must do. Each time, Baddi has no success until, with a blindingly quick jump-cut, an old man, Bagheri (Abdolrahman Bagheri) is in the car, a helper who finally agrees to abide by Badii's wishes.

So, after taking Bagheri to close where he lives, Badii drives off, content that he has secured a deal; rapidly, however, he drives back in a fluster, as doubts creep into his mind. Frantically, he walks around the area until he finds the old man Bagheri to seek further assurance he will indeed help Badii next morning. Somewhat annoyed, the old man again gives his solemn promise. And stalks off.

Slowly then, Badii returns to his home/apartment, makes his final preparations, makes a point of turning off all the lights as he leaves, locks the door, leaves his car, and then takes a taxi back to the cherry tree, he had previously selected, at which he will terminate his life during the night, and as thunderstorms - a much-overused trope perhaps - begin.

It is there, then, that I will leave you to find out why Bagheri decided to help, and about Badii's fate that night. And about an absolutely unexpected ending.

It's a bleak story, but one that is played out in too many ways by thousands every day, more or less in every country on the planet, probably. Perhaps then, Kiarostami is urging us to think upon that more often as we all traverse our own daily ups and downs - and especially in relation to those who are nearest. Once seen, this is not a movie to forget.

Recommended for all, except toddlers obviously. Give it eight out of ten.