Mr. Badii drives through Tehran looking for someone to do a job for him—to help him disappear. And he’s willing to pay well. The sullen driver has gone as far as to dig a shallow grave beside a tree, along a hillside road. His plan is to hire someone to return to the grave in the morning to do one of two tasks: if Badii responds to calls, help him out of the grave. And if he does not, to bury him. Badii cruises around, looking for the right person to assist. He tries to recruit a soldier and then a seminarist*, but each refuse. The soldier is fearful and the seminarist wont act in conflict with his religion. He then encounters a taxidermist, Mr. Bagheri, who is passionately against suicide but desperate needs the money for his sick child. Bagheri’s compromise is to agree to the terms, but first tell Badii a story about his own suicidal demons and how he came to see beauty in life. As an audience, we’re left to forever wonder if Bagheri’s story sunk in or if Mr. Badii followed through with his fist full of pills.
I found “Taste of Cherry” to be one of those art house film that was very ‘interesting’, but one that didn’t say enough about its character or life to justify the runtime. But still—very interesting. One, I am always interested in getting a glimpse at Iran. I also found it fascinating how important it was for Mr. Badii to pick the “right” person for the job. The film opens with him rolling past a plaza of laborers, shouting out that they are desperate for work. Why did he reject them? Concerns about discretion? Their class? Or perhaps he *wanted* someone who might contest the offer and talk him out of his plan. And then those he did speak to—a solider, a seminarist, and a taxidermist. The first two, representing the military and religion, two tentpoles of modern Iran, were unable to help Badii. But the taxidermist (who worked at a natural history museum) was both familiar with death and enlightened on the subject. Also interestingly, the three weren’t Iranian—they were Kurdish, Afghani, and Azeri, respectively. It was also fascinating how Mr. Badii constantly drove by construction sites with earth movers. If the three men were the military, Islam, and academics, then these earth movers were industry—highly efficient but too heavy handed for such a personal job.
The film was shot claustrophobically but beautifully. And the sound design, with other conversations and audio leaking in and out of the driver-side window, was fantastic. And I never lost interest. And yet, I just don’t think I’m going to revisit this one for a bit.