Hard to praise enough the shots and performances that sell the dread that fills characters staring death in the eyes, faces drenched in sweat. Men, moral and amoral, with nothing to live for and nothing worthwhile to gain still long for life.
Sabzian: a man so dissatisfied with his status and so focussed on living life vicariously that only this faux-documentary form befits his story.
Crafting narrative out of already crafted narrative, Kiarostami lets the subject become himself only through performance based on his posing as a director, his most affected point. As much a film about inspiration to find/create/adapt art as about the public's reception to what you produce. That Kiarostami managed to have all parties involved agree to reenact the…