Through The Olive Trees- Abbas Kiarostami Now
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.
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
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? This creates the film’s central tension: the conflict
At first glance, Through the Olive Trees is a deceptive puzzle. It appears to be a simple, neorealist tale of a poor, illiterate stonemason named Hossein who is desperately trying to convince a young, educated woman named Tahereh to marry him. But this description is like calling Moby Dick a book about a whale. To watch Through the Olive Trees is to enter a hall of mirrors where the director, the actors, and the audience are all complicit in the act of “making believe.” To understand the film, one must understand its context. The Koker Trilogy began with Where Is the Friend’s House? (1987), a simple, heartbreaking story of a boy trying to return a notebook to his classmate in the rural village of Koker, Iran. It continued with And Life Goes On (1992), a meta-documentary following a director (played by Farhad Kheradmand) searching for the boy from the first film after the devastating 1990 Manjil–Rudbar earthquake. One of Kiarostami’s most charming innovations is the
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.
Through the Olive Trees is the third layer. It takes place during the production of And Life Goes On . Specifically, it shows the making of a fictional film within a film—a love scene set in the aftermath of the earthquake. The “plot” of the inner film is simple: a young man (Hossein) and his wife (Tahereh) have lost their home. They are given a new one, but the path to it requires crossing a muddy stream. The husband carries the planks to bridge the stream, and at the end, he carries his wife across.
The genius of Through the Olive Trees is that Kiarostami pulls focus from the fictional tragedy of the earthquake to the very real, very human comedy of the actors playing the couple. The narrative engine of the film is the off-screen, one-sided love affair between Hossein Rezai (playing himself) and Tahereh Ladanian (playing a role). Hossein is poor, speaks informally, and lives in a tent. Tahereh is educated, literate (she reads her lines from a script, while Hossein must memorize them), and comes from a family of landowners.