The premise of Taxi is that you’re supposed to wonder whether it’s a scripted film or actually a day of unscripted encounters with random people. First of all, that’s lame. This isn’t The Blair Witch Project. Decide what kind of film you’re making and make it as best you can. But I vote that is a staged film because there are a number of tells that make it feel planned, and that’s fine. Plan your film and make it feel organic, but if the only hook is “Is it real or isn’t it?” that’s obnoxious.
Jafar Panahi has been banned from making films in Iran, which is horrible. He’s been making them anyway in protest, so in Taxi he put a camera in his car and drove it around Iran to show audiences the Iran his government doesn’t want them to see. That is a wonderful premise, but we don’t really get to see it.
The number one reason I think this is either scripted or a very good improv session is that there is never an awkward silence. Real people don’t constantly have something to say, or say it this articulately. Panahi engages them, sure, but if this was really Taxicab Confessions, at least one person might be shy or awkward. His niece stumbles once, but that only seems like an endearing line reading left in the film. There aren’t enough mistakes to make this feel like real life.
There is also enough cross cutting to indicate multiple takes. Panahi only had one camera. Now, some of his passengers have cameras too. I’m not talking about when he cuts to their footage. We see Panahi turn the camera on himself and on his passengers, but there are several dialogue scenes where he cuts back and forth. I’m sure he edited the footage down to a lean 90 minutes, but when it’s within the same conversation, that indicates multiple takes.
To say Taxi is Slacker in a cab is too generous. The only passengers who discuss anything relevant are the first two, a man and a woman debating the law on hanging criminals. Panahi repeatedly picks up multiple passengers simultaneously. That couple wasn’t together. After the initial debate where we see these two legitimate sides, all we get is either melodrama or insignificant pap.
One pair of passengers bring an open fish bowl into the cab. Come on! Who brings an open fishbowl into a car? It seems entirely contrived to create a wacky moment, and when the obvious happens, that’s either an amazing coincidence that it paid off comedically, or again, it was planned. Panahi’s amused look through every conversation is smug. Of course he loves it. This is gold for him.
Panahi takes an accident victim to the hospital who records a last will and testament on a cell phone on the way. The man passes out exactly when he finishes the will. Ain’t that some fortunate timing for Panahi? Don’t worry, the guy ends up being okay, but did he really “die” right when he finished saying everything important? There are so many gushing fans who recognize Panahi. Of course he’s famous in his country and that would happen, but it’s hardly relevant to include them all.
So much of the conversation is about what a “screenable” film is, because they won’t show films with objectionable elements. So what, you made a movie about how you can’t make movies? The way to show the value of Iranian voices in cinema is to make a movie so wonderful that the world demands restrictions be lifted so we can see more.
The technique is good. The camera works. It’s the content that I found grating and precious. The one part that actually was interesting was when the camera looked out on the street. We get to see that Iran traffic handles left turns and pedestrians the same as our big cities.
The crazy thing is, I don’t care if this film is a scripted mockumentary or a document of actual encounters. It’s just the pretend ambiguity feels immature. This is just an educated guess and there aren’t many materials at this time to validate it one way or another, but if I’m wrong and it was real, who cares? It’s still a bad film that fails to make its point or even basically entertain.
Image via Jafar Panahi Film Productions
Fred Topel is a veteran journalist since 1999 and has written for CraveOnline since 2006. See Fred on the ground at Sundance, SXSW, Telluride or in Los Angeles and follow him on Twitter @FredTopel, Instagram @Ftopel.
