A great film. It was one of the 12 films I saw at the Melbourne international film festival in August.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx Anthony P. D'Costa, Chair & Professor of Contemporary Indian Studies Australia India Institute and School of Social & Political Sciences University of Melbourne, 147-149 Barry Street, Carlton VIC 3053, AUSTRALIA Ph: +61 3 9035 6161 Visit the Australia India Institute Website http://www.aii.unimelb.edu.au/ New: After-Development Dynamics (on South Korea) http://ukcatalogue.oup.com/product/9780198729433.do Forthcoming Book: http://www.tandf.net/books/details/9780415564953/ New Book Series (Dynamics of Asian Development) http://www.springer.com/series/13342 xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx Sent from my iPad > On Oct 3, 2015, at 06:02, Louis Proyect <[email protected]> wrote: > > NY Times, Oct. 2 2015 > Review: In ‘Taxi,’ a Filmmaker Pushes Against Iranian Censorship From > Behind the Wheel > By A. O. SCOTT > > A section of “Taxi” is devoted to an encounter between two Iranian > filmmakers. One of them is Jafar Panahi, the director of this movie and > one of the most internationally celebrated figures in contemporary > Iranian cinema. The other is his niece Hana, a sharp-tongued tween who > must make a short movie as part of a school assignment. The teacher has > handed out a set of guidelines that are more or less consistent with the > government’s censorship rules. > > Mr. Panahi is a longstanding expert in such matters, with extensive > firsthand knowledge of how Iranian authorities deal with filmmakers who > displease them. In 2010, he was officially barred from pursuing his > profession, and “Taxi” is the third feature he has made in defiance of — > and also, cleverly, in compliance with — that prohibition. > > The first, shot largely on a mobile-phone camera when Mr. Panahi was > under intense legal pressure from the government in 2011, was “This Is > Not a Film,” a meditation on cinema and freedom as nuanced as its title > is blunt. It was followed by “Closed Curtain” (2014), a > through-the-looking-glass hybrid of documentary and melodrama that > explores the porous boundary between cinema and reality. > > “Taxi,” which won the top prize at the Berlin Film Festival in February, > takes up some of the same themes. It’s playful and thoughtful, informed > by the director’s affable, patient, slightly worried demeanor. His kind > face is almost always on screen, but he’s not a self-conscious presence > like, say, Woody Allen (whose name is dropped) or Nanni Moretti. He’s a > regular guy going about his day. What does it take to be a filmmaker? > Maybe just curiosity, compassion and open eyes. > > A camera, too, of course. Which hardly counts as special equipment these > days. In “Taxi,” everybody has one, and the conceit of the movie is that > its auteur is a humble cabdriver with a camera mounted on the dashboard > of his car. He’s not really trying to fool anyone. Mr. Panahi is well > known enough to be recognized by some of his passengers, most of whom > may not really be passengers at all, but people he has cajoled into > playing versions of themselves. A lot of what we see seems contrived. > But then again, a lot of it seems spontaneous. It’s almost impossible to > tell the difference until the brilliant final shot. But can you even > call it a “shot” when the camera has been left running by accident? > > This kind of ambiguity is part of the fun: “Taxi” is full of wry jokes, > surprising incidents and allusions to Mr. Panahi’s earlier work. He is a > pretty bad taxi driver, unsure of the routes to well-known Tehran > landmarks and less than diligent about collecting fares and delivering > customers to their destinations. “I’ll let you out here and you can get > another cab,” he says more than once. This creates a lot of turnover, > and a series of “chance” encounters with fellow citizens, including a > dealer in pirated DVDs (Mr. Panahi used to be one of his customers) and > two older women carrying goldfish in an open glass bowl. > > Those women may remind Mr. Panahi’s fans of “The White Balloon,” his > first feature, which also involved a goldfish. “Taxi” abounds with > similar reminders: anecdotes that recall episodes in “The Circle” and > “Offside”; a glimpse of a man delivering pizza brings to mind “Crimson > Gold”; Hana’s wait for her uncle to pick her up at school is an echo of > “The Mirror.” This may sound like artistic vanity, but it’s actually a > kind of humility. Mr. Panahi pulled those stories from the life that > surrounded him, and that life — the bustle and contention of Tehran; the > cruelty and hypocrisy of Iranian society; the kindness and tenacity of > ordinary people — remains an inexhaustible reservoir of narrative > possibilities. > > And also a fertile breeding ground for cinema. Hana’s school project is > just one of several movies tucked inside of “Taxi.” An old friend of Mr. > Panahi’s shares a security video recording a crime committed against > him. A man who has been in a motorbike accident, his bleeding head > cradled in the lap of his anguished wife, asks Mr. Panahi to make a > cellphone video of his last testament. Even the simplest, most > unmediated records of human behavior are shaped, edited and manipulated. > Everyone is a filmmaker. > > “Taxi,” though, happens to be the work of a great one, one of the most > humane and imaginative practitioners of the art currently working. “The > Circle” was an unsparing look at the condition of women under the thumb > of traditional patriarchy and religious dictatorship. “Crimson Gold” > cast a harsh light on Iran’s economic inequalities and on its neglect of > its military veterans. These films are powerful pieces of social > criticism, but it is their combination of structural elegance with tough > naturalism that places them among the essential movies of our time. > > The same can be said about “Taxi,” which offers, in its unassuming way, > one of the most captivating cinematic experiences of this year. Though > it is gentle and meditative rather than confrontational, the film > nonetheless bristles with topical concerns. It begins with a tense > back-seat argument about the death penalty and eventually turns its gaze > on poverty, violence, sexism and censorship. Like Mr. Panahi’s cab, his > film is equipped with both windows and mirrors. It’s reflective and > revealing, intimate and wide-ranging, compact and moving. > > > _______________________________________________ > pen-l mailing list > [email protected] > https://lists.csuchico.edu/mailman/listinfo/pen-l
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