Taxi – Review

The venerable Iranian auteur, Jafar Panahi, is banned from making movies in his native country – accused of having made propaganda against the government within his productions. So while not cited as the official director of Taxi – the picture that picked up the prestigious Golden Bear at Berlinale this year – this resourceful, innovative feature film could not belong to anybody else, as the creative, stubborn filmmaker blurs the line between reality and fiction in the way only he knows how.

Posing as a taxi driver, Panahi takes the viewer on a journey around Tehran, picking up many passengers along the way, ranging from a teacher, elderly ladies, pirate DVD dealers, and his very own niece. Through this eclectic range of characters, we’re given a rich insight into life in Iran, while painting a comprehensive portrait of the capital city.

This faux-documentary thrives in the naturalistic approach taken, as Panahi studiously lingers over the nuances and subtleties of everyday life. However throughout, he is keen on portraying a message – of course – and uses his niece to present it. She’s deliberating over her school project, where she’s been provided with a lengthy, strict list of rules to abide by in order to get a film distributed. Panahi remains quiet on the issue, as he does throughout, posing as something of a cipher in this endeavour. Instead the drama plays out in the back seat of his vehicle, as his inclination for melodrama is evident once more, as through the various passengers we’re presented with what can only be described as a soap opera, confined to the back seat of a taxi.

Though self-indulgent in parts (it seems the majority of those who enter into the car are big fans of the filmmaker’s work – and are sure to let him know about it), Panahi is let off the hook because his films need to be about him. They can’t be about anything else, it’s not allowed. Though despite starring in every scene, Panahi may be posing as a taxi driver, but in this instance, he remains the passenger throughout, observing the world like any good filmmaker should.