MIFFburger #2: Like Someone in Love

Abbas Kiarostami, 2012  
 

  Fresh out of the Cannes Film Festival, Like Someone in Love is a truly international collaboration. Directed by an Iranian, made with French funding and filmed in Japan(ese). Abbas Kiarostami is a filmmaker I am pretty much completely unfamiliar with. I am also continually getting his name mixed up with Aki Kaurismäki. If we threw in an Akira Kurosawa, Alexander McKendrick or some other A.K. initials my brain would probably start melting out of my ears. Anyway, Kiarostami is quite well known for his dramas, what I do know is that Taste of Cherry won the Palme d’Or in 1997 and he has also made no secret of his Yasujiro Ozu love and influence, even dedicating a film to him. And so it seems that Kiarostami has set himself something of a challenge in journeying to Japan to make his latest feature; a slow moving, dialogue-driven, yet visually beautiful drama.

Rin Takanashi plays the film’s main character Akiko, a young student who works an escort. She has been instructed by her pimp/manager (a small role played by Denden, who was a bit jarring to see so soon after watching Cold Fish) to travel to a client’s house; very little information is given on him apart from him being described as an important man and old friend. But Akiko has her misgivings. In addition to her usual university studies and overbearing fiancé (Ryo Kase), her Grandmother has come to Tokyo for the day to visit her, a small but moving reference to Ozu’s Tokyo Story, that doesn’t feel like a forced inclusion. The film basically follows Akiko’s movements and interactions over a time frame of a little under twenty-four hours. She meets her client, an elderly man (Tadashi Okuno) who seems to want nothing more than some conversation and someone to have dinner with and also has an awkward run in with her fiancé.

The film has very little story line and is very much character driven. Kiarostami’s actors are all very good and serve as the heart of the film, Rin Takashi’s performance ranges from immature and annoying to confident professional, to helpless victim as film’s settings change and characters come and go. Through her wide range feels a bit scattershot at first, she succeeds in aptly conveying her youthful confusion and lack of direction along with her characters weaknesses and strengths. Throughout the film she really does seem to change before our eyes, quite an interesting performance.

What I found most interesting about the film was Kiarostami’s use of camerawork; what is seen, what is unseen, and how this is achieved. As the film opens we hear Akiko, but don’t see her. A completely static shot of a dimly lit restaurant interior captures the goings on as people enter and leave the frame. It soon becomes clear that Akiko is off camera, talking on the phone. Throughout the entire film, Kiarostami obscures or distances his characters, the camera refuses to move to accommodate them (another Ozu-ism). They are hidden in other rooms, sit just out of frame, peer through windows or remain within cars. Reflective surfaces are beautifully used, one of my favourite scenes featured Akiko’s blurry figure, seen only in the reflection of a switched off television screen, charged with a certain eroticism yet disconnection. Also, downtown Shinjuku as seen from a taxi hasn’t looked this good since Lost in Translation. Kiarostami’s artistic touches are not just visual either. Characters are often heard, but not seen. Quiet, distant voices are squeezed through telephones, chatter out of radios or echo from the streets outside. It is such a quiet film, no score is used, the only music heard exists entirely within the world of the film, the jazz standard from which the film takes its name is so subtly included it could easily be missed, and rare instances of raised voices or loud noises elicited startled jumps from the audience.

For me, all these artistic elements are what make this film worth watching. It is very slow moving, with no real climaxes or turning points, and is basically just a few characters talking to each other. While the dialogue ranges from gently comedic, to a short and interesting discourse on art, it is mostly centred around the nature of relationships, and I feel that without these aforementioned stylistic inclusions, the film would probably have been quite a dry drama. In fact, I think many people in the MIFF audience saw it as just that; a few people walked out, and it received a very half hearted applause at the end, which, it should be noted, comes quite suddenly. I won’t give away what happens, but it seems to end just as the film begins to enter into new territory. Relationships are beginning to develop; complications are arising, and then the film ends, changing everything that came before it. However I though this ending as a great conclusion. It serves to snap viewers out of a film that up until now has been perfectly content with drifting along at its own pace, a perfect note for Kiarostami to end his film upon. Many people will find it boring, but I quite enjoyed watching it. I can’t see myself revisiting it any time soon, but if you like a good drama with something a bit extra, or are a Kiarostami fan (again, I really can’t comment on his other work) chances are you’ll find something to enjoy here.