Through The Olive Trees- Abbas Kiarostami <Working ⟶>

Through the Olive Trees ends by suggesting that the only place love might exist is in the frame, in the act of looking. The real Hossein might go home alone that night. But the filmed Hossein, the one who exists for eternity through Kiarostami’s lens, might have finally won the girl. In an era of bloated blockbusters and explicit narratives, Through the Olive Trees is a radical act of humility. It asks us to watch differently—not to consume a story, but to participate in the construction of meaning. It is a film about filmmaking that is never cynical; a romance that is never sentimental; a tragedy about an earthquake that is actually a comedy about a man carrying a plank.

Then, they come to a fork in the road. The path splits through a large olive grove. Tahereh takes the upper path; Hossein takes the lower. The audience holds its breath. Is it over? Did he fail?

The most revealing scene occurs during the rehearsal of the "carrying the wife" sequence. The director needs Tahereh to look at Hossein with "loving eyes" as he carries her over the stream. But Tahereh, in real life, refuses to even look at Hossein. The director tries to coax her, then demands, then finally gives up. He tells the actors to simply go through the motions. Kiarostami seems to be asking: Can you fake love? If you perform the actions of love enough times, does love emerge? Or is the performance a lie that reveals a deeper truth? Through the olive trees- Abbas Kiarostami

Kiarostami teaches us that the truth is not found in what the characters say, but in what they do when they think no one is looking—or rather, when they know everyone is looking. Through the olive trees, we do not see a resolution. We see a possibility. And in the cinema of Abbas Kiarostami, a possibility is infinitely more powerful than a certainty. Through the Olive Trees is streaming on The Criterion Channel and is available on Blu-ray. It is rated Not Rated (suitable for all audiences, though younger viewers may find its pace challenging). For those new to Kiarostami, it is recommended to watch Where Is the Friend's House? first, though Through the Olive Trees stands magnificently alone as a testament to the stubborn, beautiful, heartbreaking act of trying to turn life into art.

Kiarostami, ever the trickster, refused to answer. But the beauty lies in the ambiguity. The final shot is shot from the director’s camera position—the camera that was filming the movie-within-the-movie. That means we are not seeing reality; we are seeing the footage of the fictional film. In other words, the happy ending (if it is happy) isn't "real life" for Hossein and Tahereh; it is a take that the director can choose to use in his film. Through the Olive Trees ends by suggesting that

What follows is a static, long shot filmed from the director's camera position. We see an impossibly green hillside, a winding dirt path, and two tiny figures: Tahereh walking ahead, Hossein running to catch up. He reaches her. They walk together. He gesticulates, pleading. She ignores him.

Then, she turns. She runs. But not away. She runs back towards the set, back towards the crew. Hossein watches her go. Defeated? Perhaps. In an era of bloated blockbusters and explicit

This creates the film’s central tension: the conflict between cinematic reality and social reality. In the movie-within-the-movie, Hossein and Tahereh play a loving married couple. In the "real life" of the production, they are separated by a chasm of class and pride. One of Kiarostami’s most charming innovations is the portrayal of the film director (played by Mohamad Ali Keshavarz). This is not the auteur-as-tyrant stereotype. Instead, he is a tired, pragmatic mediator. He doesn’t care about Hossein’s romantic obsession; he cares about getting the shot.