Coming from Kiarostami, this art-house visual and sound exposition is a surprise. For a director known for his narratives and keen observation of humans, especially children, this excursion into minimalist cinematography begs for questions: Why did he do it? Was it to keep him busy during a vacation at the shore?
"Five, 5 Long Takes" consists of, you guessed it, five long takes. They are (the title names are my own and the times approximate):
"Driftwood and waves". The camera stands nearly still looking at a small piece of driftwood as it gets moved around by small waves splashing on a beach. Ten minutes.
"Watching people on the boardwalk". The camera stands still looking at the ocean horizon and a boardwalk. People walk across the camera frame, their faces too far and blurry to make them interesting. Eleven minutes.
"Six dogs at the water's edge". The camera stands still looking at the ocean horizon with a sandy stretch of beach nearby. Far away at the water's edge, six dogs not doing much, just relaxing. Sixteen minutes.
"Ducks in line, gaggle of ducks". The camera stands still looking at the ocean horizon near the water's edge. Dozen and dozen of ducks stream in single file from left to right. I assume that Kiarostami released them gradually. The last two ducks stop dead on their track and suddenly a gaggle of ducks rolls quietly from right to left. I assume Kiarostami collected the ducks and re-released all at the same time. It is not the first time that he deals with the contrast between organized and disorganized behavior. Eight minutes.
"Frog symphony, oops, I mean cacophony, for a stormy night". The camera stands over a pond at night. It's pitch black except for what appears to be the reflection of the moon on the undulating water. It is a stormy night and clouds race to cover the moon. The screen goes dark. What remains for us is the cacophony of frogs, howling dogs and, eventually, morning roosters. Hit me on the head if this was done in a single take. I saw this segment as a sound composition put together in the editing room and accompanied by a simple visualization. Twenty seven minutes!
Except for the mildly amusing ducks, this exercise in minimalism left me cold. A nonessential film for Kiarostami admirers.
I thought I would rate "Five" a five, but four is what it deserves.
The film is dedicated to Yasujiru Ozu.
"Five, 5 Long Takes" consists of, you guessed it, five long takes. They are (the title names are my own and the times approximate):
"Driftwood and waves". The camera stands nearly still looking at a small piece of driftwood as it gets moved around by small waves splashing on a beach. Ten minutes.
"Watching people on the boardwalk". The camera stands still looking at the ocean horizon and a boardwalk. People walk across the camera frame, their faces too far and blurry to make them interesting. Eleven minutes.
"Six dogs at the water's edge". The camera stands still looking at the ocean horizon with a sandy stretch of beach nearby. Far away at the water's edge, six dogs not doing much, just relaxing. Sixteen minutes.
"Ducks in line, gaggle of ducks". The camera stands still looking at the ocean horizon near the water's edge. Dozen and dozen of ducks stream in single file from left to right. I assume that Kiarostami released them gradually. The last two ducks stop dead on their track and suddenly a gaggle of ducks rolls quietly from right to left. I assume Kiarostami collected the ducks and re-released all at the same time. It is not the first time that he deals with the contrast between organized and disorganized behavior. Eight minutes.
"Frog symphony, oops, I mean cacophony, for a stormy night". The camera stands over a pond at night. It's pitch black except for what appears to be the reflection of the moon on the undulating water. It is a stormy night and clouds race to cover the moon. The screen goes dark. What remains for us is the cacophony of frogs, howling dogs and, eventually, morning roosters. Hit me on the head if this was done in a single take. I saw this segment as a sound composition put together in the editing room and accompanied by a simple visualization. Twenty seven minutes!
Except for the mildly amusing ducks, this exercise in minimalism left me cold. A nonessential film for Kiarostami admirers.
I thought I would rate "Five" a five, but four is what it deserves.
The film is dedicated to Yasujiru Ozu.