Review: Abbas Kiarostami’s Like Someone in Love
Shimmering Layers: Abbas Kiarostami's Like Someone in
Love is an opaque marvel that shows a master at
work.
15.10.2012 - Abbas Kiarostami and his films
seem to belong at ADFF. The Iranian master has been a guest of the
Festival more than once, and he served as Narrative Feature
Competition jury president in 2009. The large local Iranian
community is passionate about his films, as they are about the
generation of Iranian New Wave filmmakers he has directly or
indirectly mentored, and whose work is frequently shown here.

So it was no surprise to see a packed theatre for ADFF's first
screening of Like Someone in Love, his latest film. The
makeup of the crowd, however, far from being mainly Iranian, was
decidedly diverse. Among the mixed crowd there were as many
Japanese people as Persian - the film's story takes place in Japan
and is Kiarostami's second international effort after the Italy-set
Certified Copy. Kiarostami's work has always belonged to
the world, especially as Iranian arthouse films haven't always
enjoyed wide support at home, but with the director having embarked
on multiple cinematic journeys overseas, that is now more true than
ever.
One wonders what the audience made of the film. I referred to
Kiarostami as a "master" in the first paragraph because that's what
you're supposed to do, but also because he is one; the industry
cliché is very useful. As it often is with a master at work,
Kiarostami draws a large crowd of fans and the curious alike, but
the creation on display might be challenging - or in this case,
light on its feet, playful, unpredictable. Like Someone in
Love does not write Kiarostami's genius in large letters - he
doesn't work that way anyway, but whereas his previous film,
Certified Copy (ADFF 2010), flirted with being marketable,
with its classic Tuscany setting and a big star in Juliette
Binoche, the new film is more abstract, its urban East Asian milieu
a bit edgier. There are certainly moments when Kiarostami shows
he's capable of the kind of quirky but heartfelt drama that could
make him a household name if he would let it. But he insists on
taking chances, changing the rules, shuffling the deck. No doubt
even some Kiarostami devotees will find Like Someone in
Love obtuse. But what makes it difficult also makes it
thrilling.
In many ways the film is a companion volume to Certified
Copy. As it that film, two people meet and form an unlikely
attachment, and the story progresses through a series of enigmatic
twists changes, arriving at a puzzle as to the real nature of their
relationship that is left to the audience to solve. In this case
the two are a young woman (Rin Tanakashi) torn between her college
studies and her work as a prostitute, and an elderly sociologist
and client (Tadashi Okuno). The girl's jealous fiancée (Ryo Kase)
adds a dangerous piece to the puzzle. The cast, made up of more
professional actors than Kiarostami has ever worked with, is
outstanding.
The film's story, it almost goes without saying, proceeds in a
quiet, meandering way, with no conventional narrative as such,
through the long takes and long conversations (so often taking
place in a car) that are the hallmarks of Kiarostami and the school
of cinema he exemplifies. But again it's impressive how, well,
masterful his control is. Any indie wannabe can film a long
conversation, but Kiarostami pushes the boundaries of what cinema
can do with each unfolding scene here, creating dreamlike
fascination and a kind of simmering suspense with visual and
narrative elements that would be pedestrian or even boring in
lesser hands. It's placid on the surface but filled with life in
its murky depths, and it's surprisingly affecting and emotional
from the first scene.
The concept of "surface" is an important one for the film, not
only in the expounding of the mystery at its heart, but in its
visual style. It's an opaque film. Nearly every shot has some extra
element to disrupt the subject - a reflection in a window,
something going on in the background, a conversation taking place
offscreen. The many shots through windows, with the reflections
creating an ongoing matte effect, are frequently breathtaking -
Katsumi Yanagijima's cinematography is lush and brilliant in
capturing the shimmering life of Tokyo and its suburbs, as is the
many-layered sound design by Reza Naramizadeh. This layering and
disruption creates the impression of a stream of action and meaning
whirling around the protagonists and their story. It's an effect
that stays with the viewer long after leaving the cinema, and the
admittedly problematic final scene can't erase it.
Jim Poe