লাইক সামওয়ান ইন লাভ

চলচ্চিত্র থেকে
(Like Someone in Love থেকে পুনর্নির্দেশিত)

অন্য রিভিউকারদের মন্তব্য

Steven Boone
- There is a shot about a third of the way through "Like Someone in Love" of a pretty, perky young lady emerging from an apartment bathroom a different woman. The effect is nearly as jaw-dropping as the helicopter attack in "Apocalypse Now," a quiet demonstration of shock and awe.
- The befuddled but wise professor in "Like Someone in Love" struck me as a Kiarostami avatar, dispensing his wisdom to the young call girl/college student who ends up in his apartment by happenstance — which, typical of Kiarostami, is the result of many offscreen events that our imaginations must provide.
- Takashi (Tadashi Okuno), the acclaimed professor who finds himself caught in the middle of a young couple's turmoil, sounds a lot like the somewhat conservative and male chauvinist Kiarostami, who once told an interviewer that men are work-oriented whereas women are affection-oriented; that "marriage is essential for all women." (Kiarostami condemns one character who failed in life's marriage sweepstakes by framing her in a claustrophobic window sill that might as well be at Tochigi prison.)
- The director who usually seems stoic because of his ubiquitous aviator shades, but actually wears them because of sensitivity to light, likewise keeps a tidy frame with precise, geometric arrangements and movements but is quite tender when relating a moment of affection or protectiveness.
- So many of his long-take compositions could stand up to hours of museum scrutiny, which is not surprising for a commercial-illustrator-turned-director who has been experimenting with ways to suggest as many possibilities in a single (sometimes rock solid, sometimes constantly shifting) frame as possible since 1970.
- Many critics have noted the wondrously jam-packed and disorienting opening shot inside a nightclub, but every shot in the film, really, is its own universe. Window panes and mirrors often relieve Kiarostami from cutting to and fro by including an offscreen character in a gorgeously warped, faded reflection. His joy in discovering a shimmering new canvas, the city of Tokyo, comes through in each cut to something quietly astonishing. It helps that sound designer Mohammad Reza Delpak makes such an enveloping "score" out of Tokyo's ambient urban cacophony.
- I've decided (after wrestling with it for a few weeks) because it's a bracing slap to the face of not just these characters who have been slumming, pretending and withholding, but to many of us who might be going through life on some kind of autopilot.
Eric Hynes
- In his new film, Like Someone in Love, about an unlikely love triangle between a call girl, her jealous boyfriend, and a retired professor, Kiarostami juices tension from a static shot of three people in a car, and pans around a one-bedroom apartment as if it were a previously undiscovered planet.
- Now with his two most recent films—the Italian-set, French-English-Italian language Certified Copy, starring Juliette Binoche, and the Japanese language, Tokyo-set Like Someone in Love—he's fully evolved into an auteurist globe-hopper.
- Though defiantly productive in the face of exile, Kiarostami isn't deceiving himself about how he got here. "I can't really say it was as a wish or a personal choice," he says. "As a door gets closed, there's no point in staying behind it."
- "If you're just repeating yourself in the same circles and the same cycle, there is the risk for you of becoming nothing but a technician, and to repeat yourself," he says. "So you have the need to actually renew yourself. Changing your spot, your language and culture, can be the best way to do it."
Scott Foundas
- Then, in a single elegant shot, Kiarostami frames Akiko in the foreground with the painting directly behind, her pose and manner uncannily duplicating that of the woman on the canvas, as if this century-old work were in fact her own portrait.
- In addition to Kiarostami's own work, there are strong echoes of Krzysztof Kieslowski's masterful Red, in which the meeting of an elderly judge and a young fashion model carried with it the suggestion of an eternal return.
- It adheres to an emotional rather than narrative logic
- (One working title for the movie was none other than The End.) But the movie's sense of immutable desire resonates well after the lights have come up, as we continue to wonder whether the woman has been teaching the parrot or vice-versa, and if we have been witness to a love story or merely something like it.
David Bax
- that opening shot is a perfect introduction to the rest of the film, wherein the viewer is never allowed to feel that he or she has the whole picture. Kiarostami and his cast only reveal as much as the characters want to show to one another and what each is able to infer from the other.
- Kiarostami sinks you into each scene so much so that its rhythms become as natural as inhaling and exhaling. And since every sequence more or less flows naturally into the next one, the spell remains unbroken. Despite its languid pace and the fact that relatively little actually happens, it’s the fastest couple of hours I’ve spent in a theater in some time.
- Any film that has probably fewer than ten speaking parts and only three real main characters is going to need to lean heavily on its actors.
- One scene requires her to sit in the back of a taxi and listen to twelve voicemails in a row. I could have watched it for another ten minutes.
- Phone conversations are cut off and remain yet to be resolved. A child is nearly struck by a car and his mother doesn’t realize it until after the fact. The milk has heated up in the microwave and is ready to be removed.