The second time I watched Abbas, starting from the earthquake, the play within the play skillfully realized the intertextuality between image and reality. His films are always light and simple, paying more attention to the grand outlook on life and human issues than modern life. In other words, the relationship between nature and people: the little boy brought the potted plant from home, the director and the old man spoke to the valley, the school was in the tent, and everyone slept outside after the house collapsed.
In terms of form, the most obvious counterpoint shot is the balcony and stairs in the attic. In the shot, the husband is having a familiar conversation with his wife after marriage. Outside the shot, Hussein brings a cup of black tea and waits for the girl's answer Jian whimpered through the pages of the book, and would turn the unturned page. The two fixed shots are upstairs and downstairs respectively. Through stable and steady scheduling, a certain constant screen illusion/surface reality is broken. The two separation effects are like hide-and-seek. Recreate a deeper truth.
Another personal characteristic is the driving segment, where the constant subjective shots reveal the slow scenery outside the window: flocks, trees, mud, and a completely different experience from the speeding road film. The distant scene at the end is like an oil painting. Gradually the sound disappeared. They turned into little white dots, and in the verdant green, nature was once again placed in a more important position than people. Does Taheri answer - Abbas's open ending, reminds me of what he said in the book: "The world will last longer than any individual's destiny, and that leaf on the branch will one day be taken away by the wind" .
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