Contrary to the instant implication of its predecessor, a film which denies complicity for a long time, turning that denial of gratification into the purpose of his art. A wealth of thematic and visual ideas to uphold this, and although I miss some of the purity of Friend's House I couldn't deny the way this film evolves on that film's framing is sublime. The sound of disaster rattles, anxiety-inducing.
Saw this film as part of of a Koker trilogy exibition, the print was quite poor and exhaustion had set in. I wanted to love this one the most but kept getting caught up trying to dissect what was occuring on screen. Hopefully this receives a proper release soon and I can give it the second chance it deserves.
As a personal film that touched upon hope in the midst of tragedy and desolation, it ranks as one of Kiarostami's best. The final shot was poignant while remaining quite simple. I largely preferred to ignore the metacinematic allusions, but the filmmaker is quite deft at milking effervescent pathos out of comforting banality.
Top Ten countdown – #7 Kiarostami seems to reinvent filmmaking as you watch; seamlessly transitioning between fictional and objective reality, between life and film. He's not condescending nor pretentious, he lets the viewer decide. The multiple framing, the rhythm, the attention to little details. All constituting a greater something—a link between the destruction and those who live after. Such love for the living.