HOLD ME "LIKE SOMEONE IN LOVE"

There are a few directors out around there who you know will always surprise you. Others have a certain style. They “do” a certain type of film, they have their little trademarks. Others, you just know will have a trick or two up their sleeve. And irrelevant of what particularly they will “do” in any given work, you know it will be brilliant. Kiarostami is just such a director in my eyes. I know that when I watch his films, no matter what “the details” I know it will be brilliant. I know it will grab me by the heartstrings. That is why, when a dear friend (who I have recently discovered is in London) proposed we go to see it, I jumped at the chance. I hadn’t even read the blurb (which is rare for me, but it happens).

Like Someone in Love starts at a bar. Akiko, a university student, is being persuaded by the manager of a bar to spend the night with “a very important customer”. This is no out of the ordinary request for Akiko as, unbeknown to her family; she has been leading the double life of student and prostitute for a while. Apart from her rather unusual side line Akiko pretty much has the worries and concerns of a normal university student. Exams, guys… Her boyfriend wants to marry her, and this could be considered a good thing but he is rather jealous… Anyway, Akiko sets off to meet this “very important client”, an older gentleman of some import as far as the bar tender is concerned, expecting a night like any other. The client however, is not quite the kind of person Akiko is used to… And he will have a deeper impact on her life than she initially realizes.

I don’t know how to begin describing this one to you. Stylistically speaking, it is quite a typical Kiarostami. Speech is kept to the bare essentials, but when it is used, it is used eloquently and with sometimes heart-rending expression. There are long silences and a lot of the action is centred around cars, traffic and driving, something I have noticed about Persian cinema – or at least the few films I have watched – but I have no idea why that would be, there’s a cultural research project in there somewhere, but maybe next time… But anyway. If you are not used to Kiarostami’s rather particular style – and minimalist films – it will take a bit of getting used to. But I personally reckon it is very much worth acquiring the taste for it.

What is beautiful about this film is that is one of the best examples I know of taking a story that looks pretty local but that, in reality, speaks of universal themes. I was discussing this later on with my friend, and if you think about it the story could just as well be transposed to a much more Middle Eastern setting, Iran or even Turkey.  I mean, where I come from the story of the young ingénue fresh from the village who is corrupted by the big city and forced into a life of prostitution was once almost a staple. Partners are, of course, incredibly jealous in these films and I’m not sure how well the character of the boyfriend fits in with Japanese stereotypical characters but he sure as heck fits in with Middle Easter ones. And the funny thing is, and herein lies Kiarostami’s talent, it does not seem “off” at all. This is possibly a testament to the fact that human emotion is a lot more universal than we may (or may not) like to think. Loneliness is the theme in this one. You will immediately think of the old man, and I must say he does deserve a mention. I don’t want to give away too much about him but he is the character that stuck with me the most, for the longest time after the film. As you can imagine his loneliness is at the forefront but when you look at it more closely, all the characters are quite lonely in some way. There is a constant sense of distance, of being cut off. People being physically near enough to touch but actually a world away. And isn’t that just a bit the way modern life in the big city is sometimes? Hey, it just occurred to me… The cars. Think of a traffic jam. There you are, stuck in your car, sharing a frustration with tens of other drivers around you. You are united in your sense of urgency, your boredom of the situation and the will to get out of there as soon as possible. You share a moment and not few emotions, you seem united – you are after all “the traffic jam”. Yet, everyone is in their own little world, their own little bubble. And you know that once the traffic starts going again it will be every man for himself again…

I never said the film was a happy one. I can guarantee it’s kind of brilliant though. You really, really should give it a spin.

AND A STEP TO FARTHER LANDS : "THE WIND WILL CARRY US"

OK enough frivolity; let’s finish this week off with a proper art-house movie shall we? And let’s get our noses out of Hollywood for a minute. Heck, let’s get away from Europe too. There is a lot of world out there and a lot of cinema in it, so let’s see what else is available to us. One tends to forget to do that, and one must remember that even though they do not always make headlines there are a lot of talented directors out there, a lot of fascinating stories and things we have yet to learn. Of course if one were to make a list there would be rather too many to mention. What I specifically have in mind for this week is Iran and famous Persian director Abbas Kiarostami. His film The Wind Will Carry Us won him prestigious accolades such as a Golden Lion nomination at the Venice Film Festival, not to mention FIPRESCI, Grand Special Jury Prize and Best Film at the same. There are, of course, problems inherent to a film originating from Iran otherwise I have no doubt the film would have many more accolades to its name. This silent, understated little masterpiece has a lot to say about life…
Iran is a fascinating country where many ancient customs rub shoulders with the new. One of the customs that have persisted like this to modern times is the concept of traditional funerals. These funerals – though sad occasions as funerals usually are – are marked, in rural areas with many customs different than our own, one of the greatest differences being the way the women injure themselves and tear out their hair. Unfortunately – or fortunately, depending on which way you look at it – this custom is sort of dying out now… But the media being the media, when a chance is found to film such a ceremony and comment on it in however way is appropriate at the time, it is not missed. This is how producer Behzad along with his camera crew of two ends up in a small remote village in rural Iran. Here, they have heard this ancient funerary custom still survives and what is more, there is an old woman who lives there who is literally on her death bed. So the team keeps a silent vigil, waiting for her die and their chance to capture the events on film… However the fact that the old woman seems to insist on staying alive throws a spanner into their plans. And as their stay grows longer and longer, a certain je ne sais quoi of rural life begins to rub off, even off steely Behzad…
The film starts off as if it is going to be quite difficult to watch. It is extremely slow-paced and nothing much seems to be happening, until that is, you realize that this is precisely the point of the whole film. We concentrate on the effects this “nothing happening” has on Behzad. Indeed, Behzad is such a focal point that although he interacts with his camera crew a lot and we frequently hear the two men’s voices we never actually see them. Another person we never actually see is the old woman who is meant to be dying. We hear of her a lot through the little boy serving as guide to Behzad and his team, we see her house and her son, but we never actually have that “fly on the wall” death bed scene one would expect from a Hollywood production. No, the film is completely tied in with Behzad’s point of view. Sometimes not even that seeing as Behzad does actually see his camera crew. The film is all about the fact that sometimes you just don’t know what life is going to come up at you with. You just have to have faith, lean back and go with it. That’s what life in the countryside is all about and that’s its fundamental difference from city life. In the city we are always on the trot, never quite sure where the next “thing” whatever it may be is coming from, we are either chasing after it or trying to avoid it. In the country work also continues but it is less frantic. There may or may not be a lot of it, the point is that the natural order of things is known, everyone knows their place in the order of things and takes that place with grace. This is what the face-off between Behzad – who is adamant that the old woman will die and wants to wait – and the crew – who after three weeks of futile time-wasting in the village want to go home to their families – really all boils down to. And personally I do think that we would all benefit from taking a step back and going with the flow… But what of the film? Is Behzad right in insisting on staying or has he lost track of the bigger picture? You’re just going to have to watch the film and see.