Greetings,
In this post, I am going to share my review and thoughts on one of the most popular Iranian films, Taste of Cherry. It was released almost 30 years ago, in 1997. You might consider me late to watch this movie, but finally, the film has found me well.
The Taste of Cherry is written, directed, and produced by Abbas Kiarostami, the celebrated Iranian filmmaker whose name I first came across in Kaun Banega Crorepati. My curiosity then led me to this film. Despite its relatively short length, it is a slow-burning movie that slowly immerses the viewer.
The entire film revolves around the idea of suicide. As Camus famously asserted in The Myth of Sisyphus, "There is but one truly serious philosophical problem, and that is suicide." Kiarostami’s movie does not offer solutions but instead provides reflections and meditations on the nature of existence. Should we die because of unhappiness, or because of the monotony of life? Or should we find happiness in small things—like eating and sharing a handful of cherries?
The movie is ultimately a metaphor for the human condition, and the realization that the world can be meaningless and indifferent. Mr. Badii, the protagonist, is caught in this existential dilemma. He wants to end his life and chooses a unique way to do so, he drives around in his car, searching for someone who would agree to bury him after he takes an overdose of sleeping pills. He encounters several people, but nobody is willing to "help" him in this task, even when he offers a large sum of money. Finally, an old man agrees, but before committing to the act, he shares his own perspective on life. His reflections partly changes Mr. Badii’s view, though not entirely.
The cinematography is striking and impressive. We rarely see the outside world in detail; instead, the camera focuses on Mr. Badii’s face. His emptiness and ennui are etched so deeply that it feels as though we are staring into hollowness itself. The barren mining site, with its dusty mounds, serves as an objective correlative for Mr. Badii’s empty inner world.
At times, it feels as though Mr. Badii desperately wants to kill himself but is also afraid of making that choice. Perhaps this is why he seeks another person's help—to both witness and affirm his decision, or maybe to stop him by reminding him of the beauty of life. The old man succeeds in doing just that at last. In his desire for death, Mr. Badii also reveals a hidden desire to live—and this paradox is, to me, the central lesson of the film.
The ending is ambiguous. Kiarostami even breaks the fourth wall, and though unconventional, it feels necessary. I will leave it undisclosed for you to discover yourself.
"The only emperor is the emperor of ice-cream."
