Close Up (1990)

Close Up: Directed by Abbas Kiarostami. With Hossain Sabzian, Mohsen Makhmalbaf, Abolfazl Ahankhah, Mehrdad Ahankhah. The true story of Hossain Sabzian, a cinephile who impersonated the director Mohsen Makhmalbaf to convince a family they would star in his so-called new film.

“Method acting is taken to the extreme in the case of this filmu0026#39;s main character, Sabzian, a real-life person who impersonated a real-life filmmaker (Mohsen Makhmalbaf) he deeply admired, and who is taken to court by a family he has deceived — and has his trial filmed by Abbas Kiarostami. Watching the film, I was aware that these events really did occur, and that the actors playing these characters were the real people involved (the opening credits clue us in, when they say, u0026quot;appearing as themselvesu0026quot;), but I did not catch on that the courtroom scenes were real footage — to be honest, Iu0026#39;m still not quite sure. (That IMDb lists the judge in the credits as u0026quot;judgeu0026quot; and not as u0026quot;himself,u0026quot; makes me suspect that this is indeed all a reenactment.) But whether or not the entire film is a reenactment or only the time-shifting parts with Sabzian and the family at their home are reenacted, the moment where Makhmalbaf appears onscreen is a transcendent one, as true in spirit as u0026quot;real lifeu0026quot; (which it may indeed be).u003cbr/u003eu003cbr/u003eKiarostami is a true artist, the ideal described by Sabzian in the film, one who makes his films to depict the suffering of people. Heu0026#39;s one of the few with the power to seem wholly pure — he makes me feel, at least in the moment, that filmu0026#39;s real artists are the ones who arenu0026#39;t mere stylists. Theyu0026#39;re the ones interested in our hopes, our guilts, our ambitions, our fears. The ones interested in people. And here, Sabzian is trying to do something for other people; heu0026#39;s symbol of their love for the arts, by himself masquerading as a great artist. Heu0026#39;s living vicariously through the artist he admires, and in doing so — however morally ambiguously — accentuating the most candid aspects of himself. By simply assuming another name, he can have people treat his views with respect, and in this way the film is a scathing attack on celebrity status and the priority with which we give them. However, Kiarostami doesnu0026#39;t let us be satisfied with Sabzianu0026#39;s candor; weu0026#39;re never sure where we stand with him, and the possibility is that his entire court appearance is another grand performance. (With the credits rolling over a frozen image of Sabzianu0026#39;s face, and his general persona of a troubled but deeply good-hearted person, I was reminded of an adult Antoine Doinel.)u003cbr/u003eu003cbr/u003eKiarostami and Sabzian admit that weu0026#39;re all actors in one way or another, from a director to you and me: u0026quot;We are the slaves of a mask hiding our true face. If we free ourselves from this, the beauty of truth will be ours.u0026quot; This film and u0026quot;Taste of Cherryu0026quot; have got to me on such an intimate and personal level, and seem so honest and truthful — sometimes in a seemingly banal way — that I donu0026#39;t know how I can recommend them to others. While I think this is a masterpiece, if you expect to be blown away youu0026#39;ll be disappointed. But with artists this open, if youu0026#39;re willing to open yourself up, too, hopefully it can mean as much to you as it does to me. 10/10”