FILM REVIEW
Jafar Panahi’s Taxi (2015) : A cab ride around Tehran on the road to freedom of expression
by Max Owen - November 2017
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UnFramed’s movie collection is a rubric destined to the writings of articles about movies that have changed our vision of film-making and that we want to share with you. Movies which are coming from all time and all continents alike.
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Iranian cinema is somewhat like a mysterious creature that most of us have only rarely heard of, and leaves us with a rather vague and blurry representation floating around in our imagination. Indeed, if you randomly picked a few students or people in the streets, the likelihood is that very few – if not none – would be able to name a film by critically acclaimed director Abbas Kiarostrami – probably the most famous Iranian film maker ever. Quite frankly, my knowledge of Iranian cinema is very limited too, but I will try my best to provide you with some useful context which can help you better understand the background and roots of it all. This being my very first film review, it is an entirely new experience for me, so I will be learning as much as you do.
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First of all, we must bear in mind that Iranian cinema has a longstanding history. It is rich, diverse and deserves its place. Kiarostrami was awarded the Palme d’Or for The Taste of Cherry in 1997 ; and he is also recognized as one of the figureheads of the Iranian New Wave of the 60s and 70s, a movement embracing Persian poetry whilst dealing with very serious political and philosophical themes.
As of Jafar Panahi’s Taxi, it is another kind of beast. Taxi is a very clever ‘docu-fiction’ depiction of modern day Iran. The first thing that comes to mind when thinking of Iran when you come from the ‘West’, is probably the authoritarianism of its hardline theocratic islamic regime and its longstanding tradition o censorship. Film maker Jafar Panahi is one of the very victims of the regime’s policy of censorship and was sentenced to a 20 year filming ban in 2011, after protesting against president Ahmadinejad’s reelection.
Against all odds, and braving all bans, Taxi is now Panahi’s third ‘illegal’ movie, after ‘This is not a film’ (staged in the director’s own consigned flat) and ‘Closed Curtain’. It is also the first one he has dared to film outdoors, thus taking additional risks.
The plot is simple and so is the filming. Jafar Panahi, playing his own role, sets the camera on his dashboard and improvises himself as a taxi driver in Iran’s capital city, Tehran. Being a clumsy driver without a taxi licence nor a driving licence, Panahi amusingly plays with and mocks the censorship and the illegality he is subject to in a very ironic way. Alternatively showing the streets and the car passengers, the amateur taxi driver takes us on a cab journey through Tehran, depicting Iranian society and Iranians of all ages, classes, from all fringes of society. As a matter of fact, it is shot in a way that makes the spectator part of this ride, and creates a very intimate sense of proximity at the heart of Iranian day-to-day life.
On this ride, you will meet all kinds of people discussing various subjects including the death penalty, censorship, superstition, religion, and last but not least film making. Indeed, every scene sees new people getting on the taxi and discussing new controversies. From the quarrell between a female teacher and a crook on the subject of capital punishment, the story of two superstitious old ladies wanting to save their goldfish, the testimony of a dying husband to protect his wife’s rights in a highly patriarchical society, numerous problematiques are addressed on this ride.
However, if two main themes were to be remembered, it would probably have to be film-making and censorship. Panahi deals with the concept of metacinema and constantly blurs the lines between fiction and reality. In other words, the filming equipment, i.e. the camera is repeatedly shown and you can witness the characters discussing the film and guessing which character is in fact an actor. You will also see one character directly addressing the audience by looking right at the camera.
Film-making and cinema in general is also dealt with under the spectrum of film censorship and film trafficking. The spectator gets to meet a young man in his twenties very passionate about films, dealing DVDs and CDs, and asking Panahi what films he should watch. Indeed most films distributed in Europe or the US are banned in Iran, and unless they have been declared distributable by the regime, they have to be purchased and watched illegally. It is also an occasion for Panahi to give the young amateur a lesson on film making by saying : « all those ideas have been done and hackneyed, your inspiration has to come from elsewhere, that is the hardest part».
The main star of the film has to be Hana, Panahi’s young niece who is full of character and determination, sometimes daring to be very outspoken and pig-headed when she wants something. She even complains because her uncle does not behave « like a famous director ». During her ride, the young wanabe film-maker asks many questions, and one of the most interesting scenes of the film is the one where she asks him to explain the notion of ‘sordid reality’. Of course, Panahi knows all too well this rule which restricts the subjects of films to very plain and consensual plots that will not break ’islamic decency’. Hana, taking part in a school film competition, is thus very limited in her possibilities and this shows us how the regime tries to use their propaganda on children. But in spite of her young age, Hana already has a strong rebellious character and is not as naive as she seems ; a character that might remind you of Marji in Marjane Satrapi’s fantastic animation film Persepolis.
Eventually, the last scenes get somewhat more serious and less amusing. We get to encounter the « lady with the roses », who is in fact Nasrin Sotoudeh, a lawyer and human rights advocate who has been banned from exercising her job since 2011. In a very poetical manner, she leaves a rose on the dashboard in the name of liberty, a symbol that will remain until the end of the film, despite the last scene that I do not want to spoil right here and that I will let you see for yourself.
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To sum up, this is a great piece of cinema for those who are interested in film-making but is also a very important reminder that art and films are censored in many parts of the world and that we should feel lucky to be able to watch and make movies in a free country like France. You will not experience any extraordinary or gripping acting performances as this is a documentary-fiction but it is definitely worth watching as it is something different to what you probably have seen before.
And if I did not manage to convince you, just listen to Panahi’s advice to the young cinema amateur when he asked about which film to prioritize. ‘Every film is worth watching. The rest is just a question of taste.’