SPOILERS (starting second paragraph), but I think you should read it anyway. I've wrestled with this film since the moment I saw it three days ago now. Initially, I thought it was a very artful and well made film that flopped at the end (and not, mind you, at the infamous final scene, but a bit earlier). I liked a lot of it, but was frustrated and downright angry over a good bit of it, as well. I broke down and read the review of my arch nemesis, Jonathan Rosenbaum. I actually liked what he said quite a bit, to my surprise. Although he couldn't convince me that A Taste of Cherry was good, he did a lot to interpret the film, especially its odd final sequence. But even though Rosenbaum's review originally raised my appreciation for the film, the more I thought about it the more it shrank in stature.
Taste of Cherry is a sort of a humanist allegory. Mr. Badii is unhappy and wants to end his life. We never know why, because Kiarostami wants him to stand for anybody. The audience is supposed to see themselves in the role. Mr. Badii drives around a landscape, barren of everything but some bits of construction equipment. He is looking for someone to bury him after he commits suicide by overdosing on sleeping pills. First he picks up a young soldier, who is frightened at the proposal and ends up fleeing from his Range Rover. His second passenger is a seminary student who reminds him that the Koran preaches against suicide. Badii is unconvinced. "Is it not a sin to be unhappy?" he queries (I don't think it is in any religion that I know of, but we'll leave that alone).
Up to this point, I thought it was a very good movie. Then a third passenger enters the film. He agrees to do it because he desperately needs the large amount of money Badii is offering. But as he is driven to his workplace, the man desperately tries to convince Badii that life is worth living. He tells a story: in 1960 he, too, decided that life was not worth living and tried to take his life after a big argument with his wife. He was going to hang himself from a mulberry tree. But, after he tastes one of the mulberries, he decides that life is too sweet to end it like that. If you die, Mr. Badii, you will never taste cherries again. How can you go through with it? For me, the film's potential greatness died at that sentiment. "Cliche!" I shouted. Well, the more I think about it, the more the word "cliche" doesn't fit. Of course, I was reminded of the Chinese parable of the man who was chased by a tiger. He escapes by climbing down a steep cliff. But on the ground below there is another tiger, so he's screwed either way. But on the cliff he finds some wild strawberries, and they turn out to be the sweetest he's ever tasted. You see, it's not quite the same thing. So the word I was looking for, the one I should have shouted, was not "Cliche!" but "Trite!"
Kiarostami isn't so shameless that he has Mr. Badii immediately decide not to kill himself. In fact, we never really find out if he does or not. However, after listening to his third passenger, we see sparks of the will to live appear in Badii's manner. If not the will to live, the notion that existence is beautiful. Even if Badii dies, he dies with the thought that the world contains much beauty. This is too easy. I mean, it's very easy to depict a character whose problems are deliberately left unspoken and then give him this kind of revelation. If this film brightens your day, fine, but realize what it's saying and how morally simplistic it all is. You might prefer Taste of Cherry to It's a Wonderful Life, which has more or less the same message, but that says more about you than it does either of those films. One of the biggest reasons that Taste of Cherry fails is that it is so figurative. It asks us not to identify with a character, but with, I guess, ourselves. It's a Wonderful Life depicts a man who sees that life is worth living because of all of the character's accomplishments. We can see ourselves in George Bailey, but he himself is, without a doubt, a fleshed-out character. We understand exactly why George Bailey's life is wonderful.
But life is not wonderful for everybody. Troubles have a scale, and sometimes nonexistance looks like it might be a whole lot sweeter than the taste of cherries. Take Leaving Las Vegas, for instance (perhaps renamed Taste of Liquor?). Unlike Taste of Cherry, this film - and it's American, Lord help us - pulls not a punch. We have only the vaguest idea why Ben Sanderson has decided to commit suicide, but we know he's decided and he's not turning back. Leaving Las Vegas is about an individual. He actually finds what might be happiness, but he knows it's as fleeting as anything else in his world. The film isn't an allegory, so it doesn't presume to tell us how to feel. I'd also point to Louis Malle's masterpiece The Fire Within. The main character in that film, Alain Leroy, having decided on suicide, visits all of his friends one last time. The more he talks to them, the more he is convinced that he is right in his decision. Again, the film is about an individual and is not interested in sentimentality. It's an argument for suicide. What it depicts is an individual's choice. It is not interested in the kind of sentimentality of Abbas Kiarostami. Both The Fire Within and Leaving Las Vegas realize that it will take a whole hell of a lot more than a bowl of tasty fruit to make life worth living. What Taste of Cherry represents is cheap, esoteric art movie sentiment. 5/10.
Taste of Cherry is a sort of a humanist allegory. Mr. Badii is unhappy and wants to end his life. We never know why, because Kiarostami wants him to stand for anybody. The audience is supposed to see themselves in the role. Mr. Badii drives around a landscape, barren of everything but some bits of construction equipment. He is looking for someone to bury him after he commits suicide by overdosing on sleeping pills. First he picks up a young soldier, who is frightened at the proposal and ends up fleeing from his Range Rover. His second passenger is a seminary student who reminds him that the Koran preaches against suicide. Badii is unconvinced. "Is it not a sin to be unhappy?" he queries (I don't think it is in any religion that I know of, but we'll leave that alone).
Up to this point, I thought it was a very good movie. Then a third passenger enters the film. He agrees to do it because he desperately needs the large amount of money Badii is offering. But as he is driven to his workplace, the man desperately tries to convince Badii that life is worth living. He tells a story: in 1960 he, too, decided that life was not worth living and tried to take his life after a big argument with his wife. He was going to hang himself from a mulberry tree. But, after he tastes one of the mulberries, he decides that life is too sweet to end it like that. If you die, Mr. Badii, you will never taste cherries again. How can you go through with it? For me, the film's potential greatness died at that sentiment. "Cliche!" I shouted. Well, the more I think about it, the more the word "cliche" doesn't fit. Of course, I was reminded of the Chinese parable of the man who was chased by a tiger. He escapes by climbing down a steep cliff. But on the ground below there is another tiger, so he's screwed either way. But on the cliff he finds some wild strawberries, and they turn out to be the sweetest he's ever tasted. You see, it's not quite the same thing. So the word I was looking for, the one I should have shouted, was not "Cliche!" but "Trite!"
Kiarostami isn't so shameless that he has Mr. Badii immediately decide not to kill himself. In fact, we never really find out if he does or not. However, after listening to his third passenger, we see sparks of the will to live appear in Badii's manner. If not the will to live, the notion that existence is beautiful. Even if Badii dies, he dies with the thought that the world contains much beauty. This is too easy. I mean, it's very easy to depict a character whose problems are deliberately left unspoken and then give him this kind of revelation. If this film brightens your day, fine, but realize what it's saying and how morally simplistic it all is. You might prefer Taste of Cherry to It's a Wonderful Life, which has more or less the same message, but that says more about you than it does either of those films. One of the biggest reasons that Taste of Cherry fails is that it is so figurative. It asks us not to identify with a character, but with, I guess, ourselves. It's a Wonderful Life depicts a man who sees that life is worth living because of all of the character's accomplishments. We can see ourselves in George Bailey, but he himself is, without a doubt, a fleshed-out character. We understand exactly why George Bailey's life is wonderful.
But life is not wonderful for everybody. Troubles have a scale, and sometimes nonexistance looks like it might be a whole lot sweeter than the taste of cherries. Take Leaving Las Vegas, for instance (perhaps renamed Taste of Liquor?). Unlike Taste of Cherry, this film - and it's American, Lord help us - pulls not a punch. We have only the vaguest idea why Ben Sanderson has decided to commit suicide, but we know he's decided and he's not turning back. Leaving Las Vegas is about an individual. He actually finds what might be happiness, but he knows it's as fleeting as anything else in his world. The film isn't an allegory, so it doesn't presume to tell us how to feel. I'd also point to Louis Malle's masterpiece The Fire Within. The main character in that film, Alain Leroy, having decided on suicide, visits all of his friends one last time. The more he talks to them, the more he is convinced that he is right in his decision. Again, the film is about an individual and is not interested in sentimentality. It's an argument for suicide. What it depicts is an individual's choice. It is not interested in the kind of sentimentality of Abbas Kiarostami. Both The Fire Within and Leaving Las Vegas realize that it will take a whole hell of a lot more than a bowl of tasty fruit to make life worth living. What Taste of Cherry represents is cheap, esoteric art movie sentiment. 5/10.