Five Dedicated to Ozu

Can this "film" be considered as a film? Imagine the situation: somebody puts a handy cam over a tripod and in front of a sea promenade and film people walking or jogging along it. Then, he places the camera in a beach, buys some ducks in a pet shop, open their cages and let them run in front of the camera. Later, he just films the water surface and the sound of birds and insects in an absolute darkness. Is it an experiment or just an insult to the audience intelligence? What would it happen if any unknown director did a film like that? Would we mark his job with 10? I always disappoint directors who believe that can do everything they want once they became famous.

"Five" suggests that we pause and embrace life's simplicity. In a world that often rushes us from one moment to the next, this film gently urges us to slow down and appreciate the unhurried beauty of existence.

Through its deliberate pacing and long sequences, "Five" invites us to reflect on the mysteries of life that often go unnoticed. It's a reminder that there's value in stillness and a deeper understanding to be found in the quiet moments.

This cinematic journey encourages us to break free from the frantic pace of modern life, even if only for a while, and to discover the profound in the ordinary. It serves as a meditative retreat, offering a different way of experiencing the world through the lens of art.

SPOILER ALERT! Nah, just kiddin'... There's no plot here anyway. Well, I seriously think the world would be better if there were more films that show nothing but landscape. Of course you need some formal twist or concept to turn it into art. And Kiarostami does this: Even in this film, with its five long takes and no dialogue, he manages to address some of his central concerns: What is "real" and what is "directed"? Where does the director come in? So each shot makes artistic decisions - like to fix the camera on a small piece of wood that broke off of the larger piece of driftwood, until the letter moves outside the frame. Or the seaside avenue: As soon as the four old men gather, no other passersby appear, although there have been many before - was that arranged by the director? The take with the dogs fades out into white very very slowly... Then: Ducks. Many ducks! Walking to and fro. This is comedy! Ducks are funny beasts, anyway. And their footsteps are dubbed: As Tati once remarked, legwork is the clue to good comedy. Then, Kiarostami cheats in the last shot: This is edited. True, the moon on the water is wonderful, and Kiarostami is right in showing it for half an hour. But there is also a rainstorm, and in the end, after a cock's call, it becomes light in undue haste - everybody who ever spent a night outdoors knows it's not that neat. But well... It's still wonderful. Only the Betacam quality of the images is a bit off-putting; HD would have been more effective.

Life lessons from Abbas Kiarostami for a world based on the hurry and the continuous need for change and stimulation.

If you try to see the film when you are in a hurry you will think that this is a joke without any respect for your valuable time.

If you have any expectations from the film for something to happen you will be disappointed.

In any case why to spend 1+ hour for something that the scene change too slow.

It seems that the dogs in the shore enjoying more than us the simple things, leaving the time to pass by. Sitting lazy. We will stop the film and be in hurry to move in the next chapter of our lifes that has to offer something always better than the present moment.. Or perhaps sit and meditate this simple moment for what it is.

(Although personally I don't know the connection with Ozu)

Coming from Kiarostami, this art-house visual and sound exposition is a surprise. For a director known for his narratives and keen observation of humans, especially children, this excursion into minimalist cinematography begs for questions: Why did he do it? Was it to keep him busy during a vacation at the shore?

"Five, 5 Long Takes" consists of, you guessed it, five long takes. They are (the title names are my own and the times approximate):

"Driftwood and waves". The camera stands nearly still looking at a small piece of driftwood as it gets moved around by small waves splashing on a beach. Ten minutes.

"Watching people on the boardwalk". The camera stands still looking at the ocean horizon and a boardwalk. People walk across the camera frame, their faces too far and blurry to make them interesting. Eleven minutes.

"Six dogs at the water's edge". The camera stands still looking at the ocean horizon with a sandy stretch of beach nearby. Far away at the water's edge, six dogs not doing much, just relaxing. Sixteen minutes.

"Ducks in line, gaggle of ducks". The camera stands still looking at the ocean horizon near the water's edge. Dozen and dozen of ducks stream in single file from left to right. I assume that Kiarostami released them gradually. The last two ducks stop dead on their track and suddenly a gaggle of ducks rolls quietly from right to left. I assume Kiarostami collected the ducks and re-released all at the same time. It is not the first time that he deals with the contrast between organized and disorganized behavior. Eight minutes.

"Frog symphony, oops, I mean cacophony, for a stormy night". The camera stands over a pond at night. It's pitch black except for what appears to be the reflection of the moon on the undulating water. It is a stormy night and clouds race to cover the moon. The screen goes dark. What remains for us is the cacophony of frogs, howling dogs and, eventually, morning roosters. Hit me on the head if this was done in a single take. I saw this segment as a sound composition put together in the editing room and accompanied by a simple visualization. Twenty seven minutes!

Except for the mildly amusing ducks, this exercise in minimalism left me cold. A nonessential film for Kiarostami admirers.

I thought I would rate "Five" a five, but four is what it deserves.

The film is dedicated to Yasujiru Ozu.