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The Pitch: It's like looking in a mirror, only… not.

The Review: Juliette Binoche has had a career spanning nearly thirty years, and for much of that has jumped between roles in her natural language and English. You might think that, with the supposed paucity of good female roles in movies, that there's not much left for Binoche to cover that she hasn't before, but here she gets to explore some new territory to Cannes best actress award-winning effect. In the process, she gets to cover a range of languages, not only English and French but Italian, but in this case there is a specific purpose to the variances of the language.

The set-up is simple: William Shimell plays James Miller, an British author on a tour of Tuscany where his work on originality in art has been better received than in his homeland. Binoche is the woman who comes to hear his talk, and the two are then drawn together in a discussion of his work. Once the two meet again, the course of the movie charts their discussions over the course of an afternoon, taking in the Italian countryside and engaging with a number of characters along the way who cause them to reflect on their differing viewpoints on Miller's work.

There's a turning point as we approach the halfway mark where one of those characters seemingly mistakes the pair for a married couple. What starts as a role play, set off by the misunderstanding, takes on more and more aspects, and eventually both the pair and the audience are lost in the drama. The whole movie reveals itself to be an intricate construct on this concept, almost every aspect of the theme, the performances or the setting playing with the motif of originality versus imitation. Reflections in car windows sometimes obscure the actors themselves, POV shots ask us to engage directly in the drama almost as a participant and this even extends to the leading pair themselves – Shimell is a renowned baritone, not an actor, and there is a slight but noticeable difference between his performance and that of Binoche, which almost feels like a copy of acting rather than being fully immersed in the role.

While this reinforces the concept, it does prevent the audience from fully engaging, being kept slightly at arm's length by the constant artifice. That's not to say that there's not a lot to enjoy here, with the confusions and the tensions making this verge on a romantic comedy at times. Despite the differences in acting ability, Shimell and Binoche make an engaging couple at times and as time wears on, you find yourself more keen to believe that the beginning was the illusion and that their relationship is real and not the copy. Much of the credit for this must be placed at Binoche's door, using the language differences to vary mood effectively, but also adding colour and emotion in all of the languages she uses. The only one here who's on familiar ground is director Kiarostami, who's explored these themes before but never to such mainstream effect – worth checking out if you'd like to engage your mind and your heart.

Why see it at the cinema: There is a very literal aspect of the visuals which runs throughout the course of the movie, which the cinema screen will allow you to fully appreciate.

The score: 7/10

I came across the film when researching a piece I was writing on Plato's ideas of beauty and aesthetics. Although Plato isn't for everyone I thought this film really helped my students understand some of his central concerns relating to the difference between an idea, a reality and an imitation. In our class discussions on Plato's notions of Mimesis and Diegesis, this film greatly helped.

The film forces us to wonder to what extent the relationship between the two central characters is real, or an imitation of a once real relationship. It asks is a real relationship any better than a certified copy i.e a fake relationship where both parties pretend it is real. That is the central question - the value of the authentic versus the value of the fake.

The mystery of this relationship will likely resonate the most with people. How do these two people know each other, is she the mistress, wife? I think it counts that Kiarostami has designed it to be impenetrable by logic, blurred the cause and effect, which is a way of dispelling the notion that we can know the world by it. Is he going to put his hand on her shoulder, will he take the 9 o'clock train out of there, I'd rather ask these questions myself. Both pertain here eventually, as abstractions of life. A man and a woman, whose relationship real or imaginary we might know from our own efforts.

They stop in a museum before the picture of a portrait, thought for centuries to be the original, though lately discovered to have been only a perfect copy. What value has changed in this object, what new perception now regards it, this is where I believe this is best unraveled.

Things change the man quips philosophically, an intellectual much like Kiarostami perhaps. Yet we see the same cypresses standing by the same old road, the same plazas and hotels they once visited, then young and booming with love. Having spoken so well, we see however that the man understands little of that. He can't even enjoy a simple glass of wine without complaining that it is corked, what should be a simple pleasure is tainted by the gross irritation that comes from too much satisfaction. Having satisfied our desires so many times, in so many different ways, we can see that we are no closer to happiness.

Where does this weariness then, born from too much familiarity, from having seen or tasted too much, come from and why does it invest our gaze with this constant dissatisfaction? Another line of thought to connect the web of allusions. The woman, who has made herself beautiful for him in the day of their anniversary, says he doesn't see her anymore. He looks at her but doesn't see, meaning something has dissipated with time, grown withered in his eyes, though she is still the same, except a little older.

Kiarostami perfectly visualizes the burden that saddles these people in the scene where they are driving around town in the car. On the windshield we see cast over their faces the reflections of buildings gliding by, not simply the gap that exists between them, indeed between any two human beings, but the burden of time, life passing them over. In a poignant metaphor, we see them move through existence.

A perfect copy, the original, two identical objects which we are taught to perceive differently. The lines being the same in the same places, the hues of color painted exactly the same, the one intrinsic value that separates the two is merely time. Which is to say that as humans, who wither away with time, we allow ourselves to regard it as the most precious good, the one we cannot buy or sell. The movie shows us how, although we may understand our transience as an idea, we live as though we will always be here, as though we have time enough to postpone a small gesture of affection.

But if we simply perceive the world around us, this present moment? This draught of air now coming from an open window or this glass of wine? Or indeed this woman who has made herself beautiful for us?

This is a great film by one of the few gifted filmmakers of our times, perhaps his first truly great one. In the right ears, this will be a sutra that will permit us to meditate on fundamental precepts of existence, how time thought to matter matters little, how craving and ego blind us. How ultimately, like a mandala upon which Tibetan monks work tirelessly day and night only to destroy it upon completion, life is to be lived in full, with knowledge that it will come to pass.

All reviewers so far have either opted for 8 or 2. That is a sure sign that something is going on, I am willing to risk flack from all sides and say that Cerified Copy is was it is: a look at how we layer our relationships, an hour and forty minutes of conversations, broken with moments of silence and walking, and about two people who may or may not be in a some sort of relationship or connection.

It has originality - it will not be like other films seen recently in mainstream European cinema, there is little or no plot, or action, rather we dealing with conversation, and the state of the heart and the mind in a fiercely non-Hollywood fashion. This is a film about thinking about emotions, and is almost non-linear in its conversations and if that concept doesn't appeal then it may well not be viewable.

It is, however, despite itself, pretty mesmerizing - what will they say next? what other aspect of why relationships fail and succeed will be tossed into the salad? who are they? why the games? etc;

The conversations are both alienating and intimate, and have a "play-acting" aspect that allows the psychosexual aspect of how we adults explore potentiality to be examined in a way that is normally reduced to sexual tension and flirting on film. This is a film that demands attention - this is not dumb film-making. I recognize the conversations and the feeling well, but in a sense the connection is too contrived to be really successful - but it certainly touches that part of intimacy that is normally, at best, ethereal.

The setting of Chianti and a beautiful hot summer day, with cicadas and a wonderful small town to explore, lightens this - but it remains a film for philosopher romantics. It is, as others here have noted in better ways than me, film as film - here there are images and shots that work to compliment the alienation and solipsistic nature of the two leads.

A film about questions that offers few answers, it is certainly intriguing and if you are into human exploration and condition worth the effort to watch.

"Certified Copy" is a film essentially cut in two. Both halves are lovely and when put together it makes for a remarkable whole work. It's a very simple film on the surface, the plot made up almost entirely of a day-long conversation between an author (William Shimell) and a woman (Juliette Binoche) showing him around town. The conversation begins with them being these strangers meeting for the first time, as they discuss his new book (the title of the film) and the theories he brings up within it. They discuss the significance of a copy as opposed to it's original and the film brings up a lot of questions on artificiality, within culture and within life. Questions arise as to whether or not every individual person is just essentially a copy of someone else, and this becomes absolutely fascinating. Then, everything changes. A waitress at a cafe mistakes them for a married couple and the two spend the rest of the day going along with this, playing a game that they are married and they go back and forth as an unhappy couple would.

Or was it mistake? It becomes clear that these people have some connection with each other, whether they are divorced, former lovers or something entirely separate, and the conversation becomes much more biting and intriguing. Writer/director Abbas Kiarostami keeps us gripped into this conversation, as these two ponder on the copies of the world, along with the tribulations of a marriage, what makes a good husband, what makes a good father and so much more. She attacks him for being such an absent father (is her son really his?) and he explains that sometimes one partner in the marriage just has to be gone and that's the way the world is. The film poses so many interesting questions on the world and leaves it up to the viewer to decide the answers for themselves. Each character has their own strong opinion, but Kiarostami never takes a side and tells the viewer the resolution. It's a powerful picture that keeps you thinking long after it's over.

Part of the power of course relies on the strength of the performances, and both of these actors knock it out of the park. William Shimell was the perfect choice for the distant, simple author. Juliette Binoche, however, steals the show, with an authentic and brave performance that ranks up with some of her absolute best. She is arguably the finest actress in cinema today, and has a grasp on portraying vulnerability that very few actors can come close to achieving. Within her you really see the pain of a woman scorned and the exhausting life led by a single mother constantly having to think of someone other than herself. She is everything here; emotional, strong, falling apart and beautiful. It's a perfect performance in a magnificent film. I feel like this is a picture that will only get better on repeated viewings, and it's still quite strong on the first one.

In Tuscany, a French woman (Juliette Binoche) arrives in a lecture room to see the middle-aged British writer James Miller (William Shimell), who has published a book about the validity of copies versus original works. However, her son forces her to leave the lecture early and she gives her phone number to a common friend to give it to James.

He comes to her antique shop and invites her to drive around. However, she takes James to the village of Lucignano. While they are traveling, he autographs six books she had bought and they discuss the subject of his book. When they arrive in the village, they are mistakenly taken as husband and wife and the woman decides to play the game and soon the bitter James Miller assumes the role of her husband.

I am not a fan of Abbas Kiarostami, but I see his movies since they are usually challenging and open to interpretations. I have just seen "Copie Conforme" on DVD and I have my understanding of the story that may be or may be not the real intention of this Iranian writer / director.

Juliette Binoche's character definitely knows James Miller and there are evidences: first, she has a reserved spot in his lecture; then her son comments that she had decided to fall in love with the British writer; last, when James arrives in her antique shop, they do not introduce themselves to each other and they are not too formal as strangers certainly would be.

I believe that James Miller first met her years ago while she was walking on street with her son following her but never together. She probably would be a single mother with rejection to her son and on that occasion they might have become lovers or they had at least a love affair in the hotel that they visit in the end but James probably would be married.

They travel to the romantic village of Lucignano and they have a long discussion about copies and originals art works. When the owner of the cafeteria believes that they are married, the French woman plays games with James Miller pretending that they have been married for fifteen years, probably because she might have wanted to be his wife in the past. In the end, there is a parallel with the central subject of the story, copies vs. originals, and the drama turns into a faithful copy of a romantic comedy with a long-term marriage. My vote is seven.

Title (Brazil):"Cópia Fiel ("Faithful Copy")

Greetings again from the darkness. OK, I feel terrible. This movie is a darling of the critics. Juliette Binoche won the highest acting award at Cannes for her performance. It's the first film from outside of Iran by legendary writer/director Abbas Kiarostami (Under the Olive Tree). It is a technical masterpiece filled with various philosophies on art, love and life. It's filmed in one of the most beautiful, historic areas in the world. The one thing it didn't do very well was capture my interest. I know ... I feel terrible.

In my defense, this is a very odd film. Is it about two people courting each other? Is it about two people role-playing? Is it about two people trying to re-capture or deflect a previous relationship? Is it all of those things? To make matters worse, it plays a bit like a grown-up "Before Sunrise" or "Before Sunset". Brace yourself ... I didn't much like either of those Richard Linklater classics. Again, I feel terrible.

Pretty much everything I have to say about this movie is positive. Ms. Binoche is outstanding and captivating. William Shimell is a long way from his British Opera fame, but does an admirable job as the less-than-enchanting writer and object of Ms. Binoche's attention. The quaint Tuscan town of Lucignano comes off beautifully as the locale that newlyweds flock to for romance. The sound editing is spectacular: birds chirping and flapping, water dripping from fountains, footsteps clattering ... all of these make up the realistic backdrop for the barrage of verbal tangling. Even the camera work is expert. Sometimes we are POV with our characters, while other times we are the eyes unto which they gaze. Both effects are startling.

All those pieces are very well done and technically expert. The two characters are interesting enough on their own, but the "story" or approach of having these two play-pretend just didn't grab me. Yes, Yes, Yes ... I feel just terrible about it.

Euro intellectual recession-time story? I recommend Copie Conforme because of and in spite of the difficulty in watching it. The difficulty resides in the multiple layers involved in the relationship of the two protagonists, not to speak of the three languages that they both speak in various circumstances. The more the the action evolves, the less we seem to understand the real nature of their relationship. What we do know is that those two have a problem of communication. It is this struggle of seduction/rejection, with setbacks and all that make it worth watching. Atmosphere and the man-woman tension is what keeps it going. The filming is impeccable, with lovely scenes of Tuscany, excellent camera, and the great work on surrounding noises, which I believe replaces any music at all. The acting is also very fine, with Binoche deservedly getting a major Cannes Film Festival award.

It had a bit of the "Before" trilogy vibe (no way comparable, but still). After midway, it went downhill at an astounding pace. The ending frame makes no sense and I'm pretty sure most don't care by then. . J Binoche acts well as usual, not so sure about the other guy (theatre actor's exaggerated delivery).

I like it when a film really understands its characters and as we follow them we can see their foibles and their follies and their humanity being opened up and challenged. The Coen Brothers do this with impeccable black comedy in the framework of a thriller, as in Fargo or Barton Fink or Burn After Reading, whereby the entire tenuous structure of people's lives begins to collapse and we are left perfectly conflicted with sympathy and delight in how this will play out. Then there's the Before Trilogy, and Journey to Italy, which quietly follows its characters learning about themselves as we are too. Certified Copy plays like a condensed version of the Trilogy, and has some of the 'lost in a landscape bigger than themselves' exploration of Journey, yet this film never feels as in control or as vitally connected to its ideas as those films do. Many things are discussed, and layers revealed, but it's just not entirely convincing.

Not entirely convincing, but an excoriating watch nonetheless. When this film was finished, I felt like I had just witnessed an entire relationship, from the first fruitful seeds, to infatuation and love and friction and wear and decay, and in a sense I had because that is essentially what the two characters of the film take us through. The film begins with William Shimell, playing the role of modest and charming British academic who is promoting his book in Italy. The idea of this book gives the film its title and what the whole film begins to play around with: the copy. The copy, and it's relation to the original, its authenticity, and whether one should invest any time in an original if a recreation is believable. He would answer 'no' to that last thought. Juliette Binoche appears at his speech, leaves his translator a note, and the next day he appears at her small museum/exhibition/trinket shop, artistic debate is continued, and thus their journey begins. The boundaries of conversation between two people who are seemingly strangers soon dissolves and they are soon fluctuating between moments of bitterness, delight and contemplation, and soon enough in what appears to be a bizarre role-play, the assume the role of a married couple and any façade that they try to wear is soon being flayed.

Binoche is utterly captivating and her award for Best Actress at Cannes is entirely deserved. She is seemingly inexhaustible, communicating in Italian, French and English and losing no degree of vulnerability, bitterness or magnetism between the languages, and she has a remarkable way of kind of softly inhabiting any given situation but being able to turn caustic and uncomfortable with immediacy. There are moments when the characters are sitting opposite each other in conversation and they are speaking directly into the camera, and when Binoche does this it's never less than transfixing.

Shimmel, for a first time actor is for the most part quite grounded and reserved, but it's with him that the film often feels at its flattest. He's the more outwardly ruminating intellectual, always approaching things with a contemplative thought, and it often feels like the film is struggling to maintain a deep thought, as if in fear of being mocked for being nothing less than poetic. Maybe that's the way the character is supposed to be, but all his affectations get tiring. He comments on Eucalyptus trees being so totally unique, how each one has its own shape and definition and being unlike the other one, and as truthful as it might be, it's just a comment that leaves you thinking 'And?' At other times the exchanges of these characters are scintillating, as when an innocuous pit-stop at a café becomes changes the gears of their relationship, and Binoche begins to furiously criticise his cool, charming bullshit-masquerade. The dialogue operates in these two modes, between fascinating and questionable, but never really finds its footing.

Abbas Kiarostami is clearly a man who knows exactly what he wants to do and how to do it, and at the jolly age of 74 all the wisdom and joy and despair he must have accumulated in his lifetime can be felt here, in the vivaciousness and the bitterness of the characters, in the way a camera can just sit and stay trained for minutes on end and let the people unfurl themselves, but sometimes it feels like all he is trying to much to do justice to all his collected experience in life. There's a shot toward the end with our couple standing in a courtyard together and just in front of them is a far older couple, man and wife, standing on the same side of each other, tentatively walking and supporting each other. The imagery is obvious but the connotations are beautiful, and it's the sort of a shot that could only have worked as aposiopesis to the journey preceding it. (Maybe that is the point)

So there was an ambivalence I felt throughout the film, but it's hard to dismiss something this lovingly made, as an expression of the melancholy of our relationships in life. There's a blustery and picturesque feel throughout this Italian journey that is hard to argue with.

"Certified Copy" is a film of great beauty and mystery. The first thing that strikes you about it is how real it feels. Not just its plot, not just the acting, but also the dialogs - they are laced in the anguish, hope, fears, disappointments and joys of the life we all live, everyday. To try to explain what the film is about it to rob it of its sense of poetic irony but all you need to know about it is that it revolves around two people who strike up a conversation after meeting in picturesque Tuscany. Binoche plays the part of a woman, apparently a single mother, who owns a small antiques store. She meets a visiting British writer, James Miller (opera star William Shimell, in his debut) who is there promoting his new book, a treatise on copies in the art world. The two decide to meet later for a discussion dinner, but what at first seems like mundane musings on the every day quickly takes a turn when it appears to us that the two are familiar to each other and perhaps even might have met. We are never told, not directly at least, whether this is the case, but numerous hints are dropped; a joke that Miller shares for instance than Binoche seems to have heard before, then an anecdote that is all too familiar to her and which can relate to, about the replica (or copy!) of the David statue outside the Academia in Florence. Dialogues therefore drive the film. Binoche's description of her sister and her problems with stammering are so succinct, so clairvoyant that when we almost feel we know her as well and later in the film, when Binoche uses the pseudo stammering 'J-J-J-James', it tells you so much about her. If you listen carefully to the dialogs and are intent on picking up inflections, body language and facial expressions the film is richly rewarding.

Credit for this greatly goes to director Abbas Kiarostami for his use of formalism combined with minimalism and tight framings. Let's just say he knows where to place his camera and what to get out of his actors. His closeups of the faces of his two leads is both intrusive and revelatory. In the finest example of this, and in an outstanding unbroken single take, he lingers on the beautiful, ever luminous face of Binoche as she powders her face and applies her lipstick. Ordinarily the scene should have been inconsequential, but in the scheme of things it is both a private moment with the character that Binoche plays and fine testament of Binoche's ability. She is outstanding throughout - shifting from one extreme to the other, crying and laughing, sometimes at the same time. In the films most heartbreaking scene, she asks Miller if he noticed whether she dressed up for him that day. When he answers that he didn't she responds by telling him how she was able to pick up the scent of his new perfume. This might be nothing more than the deconstruction of all cross gender relationships, yet we learn so much about both of them while being kept at a distance. Because we can only infer what is going on, but still not be entirely sure about it, the film envelops us into its puzzle completely. At a time when many directors, most film and almost all actors are stuck doing the same things, "Certified Copy" feels like the real thing.

If you have seen Under The Olive Tree, Kiarostami's master piece from 1994, you might find Certified Copy to be the continuation 25 years later on a different continent. Here he left Iran for Western Europe because Binoche could not have done this in Iran. A twisted, touching, thoughtful relationship story that plays with what is a copy and what is an original, what is reality and what is imagination. Beautifully filmed and Binoche is at her best. The many languages spoken between the protagonists - none from Iran - just confirmed for me the many levels of a relationship, the confusion and misunderstandings you are confronted with, no matter where you are. Definitely worth seeing and talking about with intelligent friends.

20 hours ago, I just finished this film, here is what I was thinking: I was unsuccessful to feign that I love this film even though I had tried rather hard during its duration. The inconsistent parts - coincidently I completely this film in two days, which baffled me on the second day, I had to go backward the DVD to check if I had missed something, how come all of a sudden the two strangers became so intrigued to the fictional role-playing game? - is beyond any interpretation.

Now 20 hours has passed, I start to write my review of this film with my afterthought, I figure out that the whole shift began from the little mistake made by the shopkeeper of the bar. Relating to the discussion of original versus copy and the title itself, the consequential husband-and-wife acting could be conveniently associated, the writer himself is a perfect copy of the woman's ex-husband, thus, straightaway, everything becomes lucid and I commence to appreciate this film in a different point of view.

One cannot be unaware of the film's distinctive shots, which largely focus on the main characters accompanying with other trivial characters' natural existence in the background, anyway it effectively attenuates the blandness and the camera precisely captures all the subtlest expressions (mainly facial) from the two leads.

As a conversation-crammed two-hander, comparison with Richard Linklater's BEFORE SUNRISE (1995) / BEFORE SUNSET (2004) is spontaneously unavoidable, frankly speaking I prefer Linklater's oeuvres, by comparison, Abbas' film is insufficiently based on a sole idea (a marvelous one though), when you pass the aftershock/confusion, what the two leads are discussing doesn't give much impression on a general level, still, I am not denying the performances here, Binoche's Canne's winning last year is praiseworthy, as for the first-timer William Shimell (a world-famous British baritone), not a groundbreaking debut but also nothing to complain, he seems just be right for his role, that's all.

I haven't watched many Abbas' masterpieces, which might also impede my dedication and judgement, I shall try to squeeze a chance to re-watch it, perhaps until then, I will be able to be more unprejudiced and unambiguous.

If you're familiar with the movies of Iranian director Abbas Kiarostami, this is a big departure from his usual work. Shot in Italy with Juliette Binoche and some dude, it's basically a romantic comedy, but nothing like Hollywood would ever produce (well, it actually reminds a little bit of Before Sunset by Richard Linklater, but miles away from the Julia Roberts/Sandra Bullock avenue).

It's really enjoyable with unexpected progress of the story (unexpected especially if you're brainwashed by certain type of movies about male-female relationships). It has room for interpretation, everything is not explained and it lets the viewer bind the remaining threads. It's also funny and I found it quite intense. It held my attention and actually felt about ten minutes shorter than it really is. I have to admit that I'm a big fan of intelligent movies about male-female relationships. Long well written and acted scenes with just a man and a woman talking don't turn me off.

The formal control of the shots by the director and the cinematographer are masterful. There are those long shots that Kiarostami has used before, but used masterfully in the context of the story, and not in any "look at me, Mom, I'm sculpting in time" -art house tedium.

I talked with couple other persons who saw the movie, and they said that they didn't like it. But let me tell you that it's really good.

Discussions on art, on the interpretations of art, and on the value of copies of original art. Discussions on relationships, marriage, and on the types of individuals it takes to enter into one. Discussions on what is truth, what can be left up to the viewer's imagination, and what really matters. "Certified Copy" is all of that.

James Miller (William Shimmel) is an art historian with a book that declares copies that are just as good as the original piece of art should have just as high a value. A woman (Juliette Binoche) is very interested in his book, but seeing as she disagrees with his point of view, perhaps it's just him that she's interested in. From there we get a relationship that is completely open to the viewer's interpretation of it.

One of the great things of the study of art is that good pieces can mean something different to somebody else. This film not only discusses that, but embraces it and embodies it. Nature does not produce two identical Cypress trees, and I have not found two identical theories to explain this film. Although not to scare off viewers, most theories have a lot in common and I had arrived at my current one at the beginning of the film. Nothing may not be definitive in it, but it can certainly be understood and explained any number of ways.

Every discussion the filmmaker has in this film relates back to the plot and the main characters' relationship. Your opinions can evolve just as the characters do and their relationship does. Not only was I awe-struck by the visual set-ups and locations for each scene, but also the dialogue-driven set-ups for the characters. I quickly got a handle on what these two people were like based on how they talked and how they talked about other people. Interestingly, how they talked to each other just made their relationship more enigmatic.

"Certified Copy" is an impressive, well written film. It can be enjoyed for its philosophical discussions, for its unravelling of a relationship, and for its subjective plot. I have not seen anything like it and yet it must just be a copy of Richard Linklater and even David Lynch films that came before it. But I will regard it just as highly.

What begins as a walk-and-talk with two middle-aged strangers at its centre, then turns into something much, much more intriguing. The reason for the intrigue is not the plot itself, but rather (my conception of) the point that the film raises.

Should we go along in the ride with characters exploring their (possibly faux?) lives in movies, or should we try to assign a truth value to their story within the world of the film - considering that the world of the film itself is not an 'original' but just a 'copy' in the first place? Is there any point in doing the former, and does art lose it's intrinsic value if we do the latter? Does art have any intrinsic value to lose at all in the first place?...

At the hands of a great director and supported by a mercurial performance by Juliette Binoche, the movie should have been something incredible. But sadly, it falls short as the perseverance with which it raises its points about truth distracted me from staying emotionally involved with the characters as I couldn't help but feel that all the interactions were nothing but a play staged to make the film's point about art and truth. A finely-crafted academic exercise, with some intriguing ideas, that left me a bit cold at the end.

I watched this with my wife last night. I should mention that we are also both certified copies...and we enjoyed this unique film which leaves one with more questions than answers.

I'm trying to find evidence of something I *thought* I saw on a bonus section to another Abbas Kiarostami film, wherein he seemed to express years after his divorce, some form of love/divorce/understanding/pain/joy regarding his wife. Such is the nature of many amorous relationships. Maybe from the very original couple on (whether it's Adam and Eve/Hawwa or say Ook and Ookla) to every couple ever since.

A mix of you complete me vs you confound me. This seems at the core of this film, as we see many couples besides the the primary one involving James and I believe an unnamed Juliette Binoche role (the credits refer to her as Elle both a name and not a name).

Other side couples offer a great range of variations on a theoretical masterpiece. The coffee-shop lady, even without her man in scene makes her pragmatic case. The older couple at the fountain, seeming in a bitter disagreement until the camera reveals he is frustrated with a phone call. The statue in the fountain, which apparently bothered both the director and the star actress, for different reasons, too much to display. And do not forget the quite aged couple leaning upon each other, saying much in complete silence.

The trip Elle takes her man on to the church and adjacent museum with an art object as some sort of blessing stone for newlyweds. An eager couple pulls in the main duo for a photo/memento, while at that same moment a very unblissful bride takes center scene on a bench. James offers some sort of pronouncement off screen to the eager couple, but like the movie itself, it is apparently a mixed message. We don't hear it, but are told of its sweet yet sardonic nature.

Trying to rationally approach any relationship is a challenge and here it seems to be a critical mistake. It will frustrate the viewers as surely as it frustrates the couple, James strives to take this logical high road, but falters again and again.

The initial setting of an art/book lecture dealing with original vs copies, is the other key thread. It helps to set up the agitation coming between James and Elle. While on a gloriously filmed car ride (btw perhaps see the "Roads of Kiarostami" if you have not yet), the author James maps out his pretty clear understanding for consideration. That the power of art is really more in the eyes of the beholder. It's one thing for him to say, but he struggles with that as they ride through gorgeous Italy country-side, and through a confusion of past/present/eternity.

It is a confusing film, but that is not to say it was not rewarding. Binoche's "face dancing" tugs at even the most stalwart, stodgy heart. Confusing and rewarding, elements of artifice and true art - all worth the ride one hopes.

The final shot, as James steps away from a window to reveal two bells, not quite in sync nor in harmony, yet still making a triumphant sound together. Perhaps wedding bells, as another certified couple exchange vows.

One side note, I was somewhat pleased to read now that back in 2015, there was a Fajr International Film Festival to honor the late, great Abbas. Granted it included a blurring of Binoche's lowcut dress, some credit to Iranian authorities for actually hosting the festival but good luck to them if they think that is the most difficult aspect of any couple. In Tehran, Italy or anywhere.

I tend to stay away from movies that have something to do with Tuscany, because bitter experiences have taught me that their directors (with some notable exceptions, such as Tom Tykwer) assume that the rolling hills of the Tuscan landscape compensate for lack of anything else: plot, humor, etc. But it was my affection for Juliette Binoche that made me ignore this obvious danger. And here I was, listening to platitudes mouthed in three languages (one has to admit that, according to all stereotypes, the Italian were the worst), the growing irritation preventing me from falling asleep. Juliette Binoche plays a hysterical woman (as Siri Hustvedt told us, the adjective is back in use), with volatile moods, shouting at her son, the only attractive character in the whole movie. Whatever happened to her, it must have been wholly deserved. It is also interesting that all the raving, positive reviews on IMDb were written by men ... The title is correct, though. Whether the relationship thus portrayed was an original or a copy, it was equally uninteresting!