Close-up

I find it amazing that this movie works as well as it does. The people in it are not actors. They are ordinary Iranian citizens who happened to be involved in a curious incident that aroused the interest of a very talented film director. As an American who is aware of the tension between Iran's government and its vibrant film industry, you can't help but to scour this simple story for an ideological message. Is it a protest film? Is it an "all is well with Iran" film? Well, it's not either. It's just a simple and relatively mundane story told by the people who actually lived it.

What I got out of it, and your mileage may vary, is a deep sense that there is something beautiful about seeing a relatively small matter as an event of deep significance, one that requires all your attention. There is no larger story that gives meaning to the small events portrayed in the film, but the people in it, as well as the filmmakers themselves, imbue them all with a great seriousness. All of it is done without a hint of parody or ulterior motive.

And it's not like Iran didn't have "big" issues to confront in 1990, as it was rebuilding its society after the brutal war with Iraq. The cheap and obvious thing to do, which many foreign movies try, is to tell a simple story with a background of an emotionally charged historical time. It's quite beautiful to see this movie avoid that trap. It's not like you'll be moved to tears or something, but that's a part of the point! In a way, the film's ostensible lack of manipulativeness is so fresh to American eyes that you might find yourself moved on a much deeper level. Well, that, or you might be totally confused. After all, there is no background score to instruct you on how you should be feeling at each instant.

Blurring the line between what's real & what's reconstructed from scratch, Close-Up is truly unique in what it pulls off over the course of its runtime and is an incredibly original, meditative & masterly constructed example of experimental filmmaking that offers an interesting glimpse into the psyche of a complicated man while showcasing the power of cinema itself.

Set in Iran, Close-Up covers the real-life trial of a cinephile who impersonated an acclaimed Iranian filmmaker and successfully conned a wealthy family in Tehran into believing that they would star in his new feature, that is until his luck ran out. The plot captures the ensuing trial that's filmed by the crew as it transpires in the courthouse while interspersed within those images are reenactments of the case.

Directed by Abbas Kiarostami, Close-Up marks my first stint with his works & what instantly caught my attention was the opening credits that showed every cast member to be playing themselves, an unusually surprising move. Kiarostami's direction deserves kudos for he manages to erase the line that differentiates reality from fiction by using same individuals who were involved in the real-life scene to reenact the earlier events.

What's also striking is that the reconstructed segments retain the raw, crude & untainted quality of recorded footage, while everything that unfolds in the courthouse is not a result of any rehearsed wordplay. Although the confession of the accused gives us a peek into his complex persona as well as his thought process, it also elegantly exposes the existing divide between the rich & the poor in Iranian society.

Throughout the trial, Kiarostami tries to get the perpetrator's side of the story on the camera and while there are times that make you wonder if he's still staging an act or is being honest, some of the things said by him do reflect a bitter truth about the society we live in, like when he talks about the love, respect & hospitality he received from the family when he pretended to be someone else, something he never would've experienced otherwise.

It's not that you can't differentiate between what's real & what's reenacted in Close-Up but the way its entire plot is executed, it makes you forget that deception & allows you experience it for what it is. Cinematography makes splendid use of the camera which is brilliantly utilised for long unbroken takes, hidden recordings, fixed smooth pans & fluid movements while Editing cleverly arranges the different segments into one consistently engaging narrative.

On an overall scale, Close-Up is an expertly crafted docufiction about human identity and captures it in its most natural form. Real-life can be just as full of drama & spices as any story brought to life on a film canvas and both forms inspire one another more often than usual. Although regarded by many to be one of modern cinema's greatest works, Close-Up didn't enthral me enough to join that particular crowd but I do admire its uniqueness, originality & honesty. Definitely recommended.

One day on a bus, an out of work father of two is mistaken for Mohsen Makhmalbaf, a famous Iranian filmmaker. He carries through with the ruse until he gets caught, and the family takes him to court, accusing him of fraud. The story is told through layers of flashback and shifting points of view. The look of the film is just as dynamic, using all sorts of film techniques - handheld, grainy 16 mm stock, the subtle use of shifting focus, and the all important close-up.

People tend to say that Abbas Kiarostami's style is a dead-crawl pace coupled with dry documentary images, but I've found his films to be wonderfully unravelling puzzles, full of frustrations and moments of perfect understanding. At times I think the key to Kiarostami's work is to simply earn it - the film may seem hard at first, you might be lost in the story, but don't give up! If you hang in there, you'll be rewarded with an unforgettable ending, like the one here in Close-up.

Truly the best, freshest, most truly independent cinema is coming from Iran - or at least was in the nineties. Time will tell. My favourite is "Salaam Cinema", a film I would love to see again. This film, from Iran's Goddard (I spose you'd call him) Abbas Kiarostami is in the docu-drama tradition. It uses the real people who took part in the real events portrayed in the movie, it uses a documentary style, but it is a film - not a documentary. I feel you could add, but is it not a documentary? Because at times, you just don't know. A truly great film because it really sucks you in, time passes, I have no idea how long it ran because it was over too soon. Magic!

Method acting is taken to the extreme in the case of this film's main character, Sabzian, a real-life person who impersonated a real-life filmmaker (Mohsen Makhmalbaf) he deeply admired, and who is taken to court by a family he has deceived -- and has his trial filmed by Abbas Kiarostami. Watching the film, I was aware that these events really did occur, and that the actors playing these characters were the real people involved (the opening credits clue us in, when they say, "appearing as themselves"), but I did not catch on that the courtroom scenes were real footage -- to be honest, I'm still not quite sure. (That IMDb lists the judge in the credits as "judge" and not as "himself," makes me suspect that this is indeed all a reenactment.) But whether or not the entire film is a reenactment or only the time-shifting parts with Sabzian and the family at their home are reenacted, the moment where Makhmalbaf appears onscreen is a transcendent one, as true in spirit as "real life" (which it may indeed be).

Kiarostami is a true artist, the ideal described by Sabzian in the film, one who makes his films to depict the suffering of people. He's one of the few with the power to seem wholly pure -- he makes me feel, at least in the moment, that film's real artists are the ones who aren't mere stylists. They're the ones interested in our hopes, our guilts, our ambitions, our fears. The ones interested in people. And here, Sabzian is trying to do something for other people; he's symbol of their love for the arts, by himself masquerading as a great artist. He's living vicariously through the artist he admires, and in doing so -- however morally ambiguously -- accentuating the most candid aspects of himself. By simply assuming another name, he can have people treat his views with respect, and in this way the film is a scathing attack on celebrity status and the priority with which we give them. However, Kiarostami doesn't let us be satisfied with Sabzian's candor; we're never sure where we stand with him, and the possibility is that his entire court appearance is another grand performance. (With the credits rolling over a frozen image of Sabzian's face, and his general persona of a troubled but deeply good-hearted person, I was reminded of an adult Antoine Doinel.)

Kiarostami and Sabzian admit that we're all actors in one way or another, from a director to you and me: "We are the slaves of a mask hiding our true face. If we free ourselves from this, the beauty of truth will be ours." This film and "Taste of Cherry" have got to me on such an intimate and personal level, and seem so honest and truthful -- sometimes in a seemingly banal way -- that I don't know how I can recommend them to others. While I think this is a masterpiece, if you expect to be blown away you'll be disappointed. But with artists this open, if you're willing to open yourself up, too, hopefully it can mean as much to you as it does to me. 10/10