Taxi (2015) Reviews

• A Journey Around Censorship

  tributarystu2015-02-09

  Somewhere, in the corner of my mind, the information about Jafar Panahi's predicament was lying around unguarded. His 2010 jail sentence and twenty year ban from filmmaking were a result of what was deemed as propaganda against the Iranian government. Obviously, it has not hindered him in producing three movies since, all smuggled outside the country and released at the Cannes and Berlin festivals before receiving wider distribution. The story of the man is fascinating enough, but it is his artistic and humanistic sensibilities that make Taxi a memorable experience. Filmed via a number of small cameras, some fixed within the taxi itself, some carried around by other protagonists, the story sees Panahi acting as a cab driver and encountering pieces of the Iranian Weltanschauung. The irony of his position is highlighted as his first passenger criticizes his geographical orientation, noticing that something must have gone seriously wrong for Panahi in order for him to have to resort to something he has no clue about. And after a short argument between passengers about whether stealing the wheels off a car should warrant the death penalty or not, "just to send a message", you get the sense of how easily people become desensitized to such matters if only they are faced with them frequently enough. Paradoxically, the man suggesting this course of action is a "freelancer" himself, but more of a Robin Hood mold, which apparently should exempt him from a similar punishment. This contradiction between wrong and right is explored throughout the journey, as Panahi encounters a series of colourful characters: a man selling pirated international films (who actually recognizes the director and takes quick advantage of him), a woman weeping over her dying husband, two older women fighting for their lives, an old neighbour who had recently been the victim of a robbery, a woman suffering a similar fate of marginalization due to the her political views, and Panahi's niece, who is just being introduced to what "publishable films" are in Iran. Panahi strikes a fine balance between some more comical aspects of Iranian life and the very dire need for self expression, that is severely limited. The humanism that pervades Taxi poses the same question repeatedly: what causes crime and who is a criminal within Iranian society? Drawing from a well of personal experience, he manages to create an endearing context for all his protagonists and their tales and it feels like he is taking us by the hand and guiding us, not so much physically, as emotionally. His smile spreads these emotional cues, from affection to sympathy, confusion and intense discomfort, and this gives off the sensation of being joined by a friend throughout this journey. The worst that can be said is that the scripting of events does occasionally feel a bit heavy handed, in order to condense all the experience in what is ultimately a very short film. And while generally avoiding the lure of leaning too heavily on caricature, it ends on a slightly underwhelming artistic note. But those are all the complaints I have to make. I very much enjoyed Taxi and gathering from the vibe around me, so did many of the other people watching it. While I feel the focus should generally be on the art, more than on the artist, here's hoping that Panahi will have the chance to one day echo the affection he receives and generates in festival venues around the world, by having the freedom to openly appear alongside Iranian artists and their uncensored visions.

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• Well worth the ride.

  shawneofthedead2015-05-31

  Imagine, if you will, a world in which you may walk freely on the streets, but are hardly free at all. That's the world in which Iranian director Jafar Panahi lives, breathes and tries to work - one we're introduced to in gentle, tartly comic fashion in his latest film. Taxi, which won the Golden Bear at the 2015 Berlin International Film Festival, gives viewers a seductive, sobering glimpse into modern- day Iran, a country where criminals are executed for petty theft and women jailed for trying to attend a men's volleyball match. The premise of Taxi is simple - Panahi himself, with cameras cleverly affixed throughout his vehicle, drives a taxi through the teeming streets of Iran. Throughout the day, Panahi the cabbie picks up strangers, friends and relatives, played by themselves or non- professional actors. Along the way, he makes idle conversation with them, or they chat amongst themselves - ordinary chatter that carries quite extraordinary import. It's fascinating, thought-provoking stuff, delving deeply into ideas and questions about Iran and its politics while firmly couched in the language of the everyday. Two passengers launch into an impassioned discussion on the merits (or lack thereof) of capital punishment and syariah law. The broken body of a man is bundled into the backseat and, with what he thinks is his dying breath, he tries to circumvent laws that will prevent his sobbing wife from inheriting their home. Art and ideas are sold on the streets, the stuff of covert piracy, as the precocious Hana Saeidi, Panahi's young niece, relates to him the lessons she has learnt on how exactly to make films that will be 'screenable' in Iran. To be honest, the final film is an amiable if somewhat rickety affair. Parts of it work better as metaphors, faltering somewhat in the execution. For instance, Hana is, literally and metaphorically, the future - both of Iran and, with her own little hand-held camera, filmmaking. But the moment when she tries to exert control over a scene she's shooting from the window of the taxi, haranguing a little boy to behave differently so that her footage will pass muster in school, feels a little too on-the-nose. In a couple of instances, it's easy to identify the issues Panahi wants to raise: in a bowl of fish or an iPad video, he finds insights about the power of superstition and the tragedy of poverty. But the scenes themselves don't always work as well, ambling when they should sprint. Nevertheless, it's impossible to remain unmoved by the quiet power and heartbreaking passion of Taxi. This is a gem of a film: subtle, leisurely and surprisingly funny; thoughtful and deep but rarely overbearingly so. It's all the more impressive, of course, as a testament to Panahi's ongoing refusal to bend and break beneath the 20-year filmmaking ban that was slapped on him in December 2010. Since then, he's smuggled a film out of Iran on a flash drive baked into a cake, and assembled Taxi out of cam footage shot in broad daylight in Tehran. That's why, in ways both big and small, Taxi serves as a bold reminder of the bravery and strength of the human spirit.

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• Panahi might not be a good taxi driver, but he's an excellent filmmaker

  shana-debusschere2015-05-03

  Going into a screening of this film, there are a couple of things an audience should know. In 2010 Jafar Panahi, was arrested for making a film against the Iranian regime. Since then he has not been allowed to make films, leave the country or participate in interviews. Taxi, however, is his third film since the ban, and even though it's filmed entirely within the confined space of a taxi, it shows us the streets of Tehran. We're out in the open, right under the nose of the Iranian government. Read More Here (https://filmcurious.wordpress.com/2015/05/02/review-taxi- 2015/#more-145)

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• A quiet protest and subtly subversive film from Iran

  jen-lynx2015-11-16

  This year's installment in delightfully subversive political guerrilla filming is brought to us by Jafar Panahi and his film, "Taxi". Mr. Panahi is an Iranian filmmaker who ran afoul of his government's strict rules concerning suitable filming subjects. As a result, he spent time in prison and under house arrest. Not to be daunted, he continued making films that skirted the government's definition. "Taxi" is his third such film and like the other two, had to be smuggled out of the country to be seen. Panahi assumes the guise of a taxi driver (apparently a nod to fellow Iranian director Abbas Kiarostami's film, "Ten") and drives around a city, much like any other city, picking up various passengers throughout the day. There are moments of hilarity as Pahani deals with one situation after another, but underneath it all is a telling story of what life is like in Iran today, with particular attention to issues of censorship, state sanctioned brutality, women's rights, and of course, how this affects the arts and culture. It makes light of life in Iran and pokes fun at the powers that be, all the while recognizing that their actions have serious ramifications. It is for the most part an engaging film, but given that it all takes place in a taxi and as such, is almost completely driven by dialog, it can drag a little. Still, for what it is, a piece of political theater, it is really excellent. If you get a chance to see it, I'd recommend it if for no other reason than to get a small feel for a country we, in the Western world, get to see so little of.

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• A sweet sour daring piece of film making

  R-Clercx2015-05-07

  I refer readers to other comments for more details on the story line itself. I want to add however although this movie is presented in cinema 'vérité' style (meaning wanting to give the viewer the impression that what is shown is simply reality itself -for instance like the most famous example 'The Blair Witch Project'- the entire movie is however scripted with anonymous actors. But, this is also the drawback. Although as a viewer one expects to see real life situations as they would have been filmed on the fly while the director picks up random passengers calling a cab, all scenes are an act and one can not feel but a slight disappointment when the illusion is revealed. Like another reviewer points out correctly; some of the stories, especially the lighter ones in which the director doesn't directly seek to comment or criticize the regime in Iran are funny but feel as a warming up and slightly out of place or only as a counterbalance for the more full on portrayal of what is 'really' happening in Teheran. It's only from the second act (portraying how all kinds of imposed restrictions and censorship from a government lead to a black market and circumventing censorship) and the dialog with the child that has to meet the same restrictions posed on film-making for an assignment like the director needs to oblige to, the movie becomes a direct statement and outcry for the freedom of thought and expression. Personally I think that the movie, if it would have been truly a documentary with real passengers, it might even have been a stronger piece of capturing reality. But probably this approach would have been far too dangerous, as the privacy of the passengers would have been breached which might be very dangerous in a clear dictatorship like in Iran. Now, with a scripted movie sometimes it comes across as a director showing a clear 'see, I can still make movies' to the government that imprisoned him for making movies. I wonder how Iranian government will react when they surely will find out that the director made another one. Much of the appeal and the praise for the movie can be seen as applauding for the clear message in the film, which is all about the right to question an opposed reality. One can not help feel sorry for imprisoned artists, no matter where. Europeans and Americans might applaud this movie the loudest, but the Edward Snowden or Julian Assange story shows that this movie is not only about the Teheran situation. Propaganda happens everywhere: be it in Teheran, Islamic countries in general or in western consumerism and capitalism countries. Most governments try to portray a positive view about one's own culture ('The American Dream', 'Freedom of expression'), head into war either praying to Allah, God or other metaphysical spirits for good luck and strive to export their cultural values elsewhere, at the same time alienating cultures which hold other values. In Teheran filmmakers can not show men wearing a tie, which might seam strange and unsettling to westerners, but from a Teheran culture point of view, the tie is a sexual symbol pointing to the genitals. As such, one can also ridicule the western view in which men are obliged to wear a tie as dress code, which biologically is nothing but an arrow pointing to one's genitals. Now, how strange is that? The director however does a very good job of portraying to which surreal situations censorship may lead. Purely technical and from a script point of view it is certainly not a brilliant movie, the loud applause and praise comes from those who are very much into the 'freedom of expression' propaganda and the idea of filming an entire movie in a cab has been done before. Never the less, it is a must see movie, because it drags the viewers as peeping Tom's into a culture that may vastly differ from their own. One might find that people from other cultures and convictions are first and foremost human.

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