And Life Goes On (1992) User Reviews

9/10

[desperateliving · 9/10 · 11 November 2004]

This is the transition from Kiarostami's films about children into his more adult, philosophically ponderous phase (and his bridging of the gap between characters searching on foot, as in the first of the trilogy, "Where is the Friend's Home," and within cars). As with all of Kiarostami's films, it's just beautiful to look at, not so much the way he films it (although this film continues his favorite shot of action taking place extremely far away), but what is filmed. For this reason I almost feel like I'm blinded by the director's name on the film, giving his films such high marks, because he doesn't really DO anything that you can point to. There is no startling mise-en-scene (the nature exists anyway, regardless of his camera). But he repeatedly and consistently creates a tranquil, pure, loving feeling in me. It has to do with his soul: he's putting it up there every time. Not autobiographically, but tonally. It has nothing to do with words like "craft" or "quality."

The simple gesture of a child wanting to raise a grasshopper is enough for Kiarostami to be considered a great realist, an observer. And his film is a connector of people. It might sound simple to say, but for a Westerner with no real idea of what life is like in Iran -- or better, not life, but people -- the simple depiction of it that shows, "Hey, they're basically like us," is invaluable. That's the difference between artists who share what is and artists who create what isn't. And more immediately, within the film, he deals with the public tragedy as great connector, whether it's an earthquake or an act of terrorism. And for us Westerners whose first real impression of that came with 9/11, this film will ring true -- and be remarkable if we consider that things like this happen over there all the time. (Which possibly explains why our main character never seems all that shocked by anything he sees; when a woman cries for her family, he nods his head, but doesn't seem terribly affected by her tears.) One character here asks what Iran has done to anger God and cause the earthquake, but there is little religiosity in the film. Unlike certain recent American films, this film does not have a tendency toward hand-wringing and overwrought seriousness reaching toward the skies. That scene itself is understated like the entire film. The characters here are not spiritual ciphers. They're utterly practical.

As with Kiarostami's two greatest films, "Close-Up" and "Taste of Cherry," the film becomes brilliant when it breaks from its placid realism into self-reference: the main character pulls out a picture of a boy who acted in the real film "Where is the Friend's Home?" and asks strangers where this real boy is, who he says played a role in the film. Is this a real earthquake? Is this actor really harmed? Is this a documentary? Is the main actor playing Kiarostami; is Kiarostami filming this from the passenger seat? Are they really out looking for this boy? But as with those two masterpieces, it's this that borders on insufferable, smirking cleverness on Kiarostami's part that makes me question the so-called honesty of his films. (I find his interviews pretentious and evasive.) Is it possible to be a self-referencing deconstructionist and reveal human truths, not just reveal "the nature of cinema," in an attempt to be the Iranian Godard? This is what lessens my enjoyment of his films, because it lowers my trust. Kiarostami asks a lot of us. "Okay, admit the first film was openly a film, but accept this as a closed film, until I tell you it's a documentary..." There are other flaws. It does get "cute" at times, as when the main character repeats his son's question at a later time ("Why is it coming out of a tap?"). And the boy seems preternaturally wise -- part of the film's "message" is not to discount kids' wisdom: the boy questions the validity of the claim that God caused the earthquake, shocking one woman that he and his father come in contact with throughout their travels.

However, there is so much richness elsewhere (and I'm willing to accept that the layering of the self-reference adds to the film, even if it makes it momentarily annoying) that you can move beyond its flaws (which, honestly, I would accept pretty easily in another film; with Kiarostami you have expectations in the clouds). I'm particularly interested in the way children (and the child experience as remembered or experienced by an adult) are presented on screen, and I'm continually ecstatic that we have Kiarostami contributing to this. (That the main character's son describes one boy from "Where is the Friend's Home?" by his eyes is appropriate, as when we see him they are indeed strikingly beautiful.) The film is also an interesting comment on what happens to people after they work -- Falconetti comes to mind. And the ending is already a classic: it's like the swimming pool scene in "Nostalghia" in tone. Does what happen happen because the film has to end that way, or because of the human spirit? (This is one of the few scenes where music plays under it.)

Even though the movie has no end, only a means, it moves forward like a good documentary. Even though time is not indicated (there are few, if any lapses; time is experienced, as in Tarkovsky), it moves along at a nice pace -- not so much in that the story is brisk, more in that we've settled into its own rhythm. There is no "story," only the story of film as experience. Lots of Big statements could be inferred from the film -- it's about an endless journey with no resolution to a place they don't know how to get to (college students, get your pens out) -- but I take it directly. 9/10

A drive through areas devastated by the 1990 earthquake in Iran

[rasecz · 8/10 · 6 March 2007]

There is a long intro before the title. A film director and his son are shown driving in a small beat-up car to northern Iran soon after the 1990 earthquake. When the car enters a long tunnel, the camera keeps rolling and on the darken screen the titles finally appear.

The film director is nominally Kiarostami, but played by an actor. Typical for his films, the documentary genre blurs with the fictional account. The devastation that we see from the moving car is real, though the lamentations we witness are probably staged, which does not diminish the sense of suffering of the affected local communities.

The impetus of this travelogue through a torn landscape is to locate at least one of the kids that was his main character in one of his previous films, "Khaneh-je doost kojast?". That quest is the director's central preoccupation, so much so he does not recognize another boy, who he gives a lift to, that had a secondary role in that film. If you see the aforementioned film, you will clearly remember the face.

The quest is made difficult by roads that have been gutted or blocked by rock and earth slides, and by the steep mountainous terrain of his goal, the small town of Koker. As he gets tantalizing close, we root for him.

The way the film ends may be disappointing to some, but I found that it matched the title of the film, "And Life Goes On". For the survivors of the earthquake there is mourning for the dead, but at the same time the 1990 World Soccer Cup is going on. What team will make it to the final? While houses have to be rebuilt, it is also important that TV antennas be lifted so that all can see the games in the evening. The director will make more films but now he is concerned about the well-being of that child actor. So life goes on, the quest must go on. There is no ending.

A Human Look at Iran

[gavin6942 · 7/10 · 20 June 2017]

After the 1990 earthquake in Iran that killed over 30,000 people, Kiarostami went to search for the stars of his previous film "Where Is the Friend's Home?". This film is a semi-fictional work based on these events, shot in a documentary-style. It shows a director (played by Farhad Kheradmand) on this journey through the country in the aftermath of the earthquake.

While this is a really beautiful film with a rather simple plot, there is something a bit more than that going on. Of course, it also has something of a "meta" feel because the film references another film, thus being both that film's sequel, but also outside of it in a way.

For Americans, the film also offers a very human look at tragedy. For reasons not entirely clear to me, Iran is seen as America's "enemy". This is foolish, given that the problem is the government and not actually the Iranian people. This film makes that perfectly clear, with some of the most innocent, caring folks you would ever hope to meet. Whatever caricature we are supposed to have in mind about Iran, you will not find it here.

Fantastic, today's Neo-realism

[GregSinora · 3 February 2005]

Whilst watching this film i was struck by how natural and simplistic the film was. A film director and his son travel through Iran after an earthquake has struck to try and see if the boy who starred in his last film is still alive. That is what the film is, observing people on the road, whose lives have been destroyed, people whose lives still go on. Kiarostami presents life in such a naturalistic way that we are sitting in the back seat of the car taking the journey as well. That is the perfection of the this film, the real life, the carnage of life, the people striving for life, all add up to one up-lifting experience. Like Rossellini with a uplifting finale, and minus the melodrama. Kiarostami seeks to capture reality on film in a similar way as the Neo-realists, through humanity and observation, but while the Neo-realists films can be seen as natural, Kiarostami reinvents naturalism as if nature had shot the film itself. Yet another piece of perfection from Kiarostami, not to be missed.

Absorbing and beautiful

[JSL26 · 8/10 · 7 April 2001]

This is the second film in a trilogy. The first one (Where Is My Friend's Home") involved a kid searching for his classmate's house to return a notebook (to save him from the wrath of his teacher). A charming little film.

This one is a faux documentary that follows the director's attempt to find the two boys after the devastating 1990 earthquake. It is leisurely paced (though I would never say it is "dull") but the earthquake scenes are powerful and beautiful. The director's quest is absorbing and he and his son are a likable duo. Also there are some surprising philosophical and comedic interludes.

I would recommend this film highly whether or not you have seen the first.

Zendegi va digar hich

[sharky_55 · 9/10 · 12 April 2017]

When the 1990 Manjil–Rudbar earthquake hit and killed fifty thousand people, director Abbas Kiarostami made the decision to return to the Iranian village of Koker and find the little boys who were part of the cast of his earlier masterpiece, Where is the Friend's Home? It is during that trip that Kiarostami was struck by inspiration, going back to retrace his steps and film his own journey as his second entry into the eventual Koker trilogy. What follows is a surprisingly hopeful film about the vast reserves of resiliency in the face of hardship for these Iranian citizens, and how the end, life simply must go on.

The events are captured in an unadorned verite style, with harsh, slightly overexposed natural light and a free camera, recalling the neorealist and non-fiction roots of Kiarostami's early career. Those familiar with his work will recognise one of his favoured shots; an extreme wide overhead, surveying the tiny car with amusement as it slowly chugs through the ravaged countryside. This is usually coupled with diegetic sound that contradicts the distance of the shot; we can hear Kiarostami (his actor) and his son right in our ears, although we are much too far away. The moment gently mocks their progress, the foolish ideal that such an insignificant machine could instantly make the arduous journey (think of that horizontal wide shot, with the gigantic, jagged cracks in the ground dwarfing their vehicle). Kiarostami used the same shot in his later masterpiece The Wind Will Carry Us, cutting deeper with his critique. Here he eventually allows his surrogate a POV shot through the windscreen, as if to consider his perspective too, but does this only further emphasise the lack of forward momentum, the fixed perspective? To truly find what he is looking for, he must exit the car and walk on his own two feet, not merely make enquiries through the window as if he was peering into a zoo exhibit.

There is little artifice beyond this point, except for the bits where Kiarostami uses the film's self-reflexivity to play with ideas of cinematic representation and truth behind the screen. They bump into Mr Ruhi, who played a character in one of Kiarostami's previous films, and is now purposefully transporting a urinal to another place of need in the aftermath of the earthquake's destruction. When the director queries him on his new home, he nonchalantly replies: "Well, that was my house in the movie." The big one with the terrace was just for show. Later, though, he does complain that the film made him look older and uglier than he really is. His moment is Kiarostami's apology and admission of his past inaccuracies, of how the movies have conditioned us to make certain assumptions of the reality presented on the screen. Now he slowly but surely trudges on, remarking that even in the wake of such devastating disaster someone will still have need of a urinal - something that the director seemingly bypasses as his son runs off into the bushes.

In The Wind Will Carry Us, a crew arrived in a rural village to film the imminent death ritual of an elderly woman, but found that life would not bow over so easily to their gaze. In Life, and Nothing More..., a director and his son search endlessly for two boys and the village of Koker, but do not ever find it. But what Kiarostami does find in the latter that was scarce in the former is a deeply humanist and optimistic view of life, of people not weeping and cursing at the sky, but shouldering this burden and carrying on best they can. Listen to how innocently Puya attempts to rationalise the earthquake, and how his perspective is scattered within everyone they meet: of tragedy reaffirming all that is precious in our lives. That little pearl comes from the same boy whose face is earlier emblazoned by darkness and the opening credits as they enter a tunnel, sleeping on his back and unaware of their destination. And witness the gentle beauty in the film's final shot, where Kiarostami and a stranger help one another up a winding, zig-zagging hill. Their toil across the landscape is hardly easier after all, but now the shot is not of mockery, but celebrating their compassion in the face of adversity.

Modern Day Neo-Realism

[tnrcooper · 10/10 · 25 August 2014]

This movie has the realistic feel of a documentary although I wouldn't call it a faux documentary because there is no pretension that it is a mock-up. It has the feel of a documentary and if you didn't know any better, you could quite reasonably conclude that it was. I would say that it is in the tradition of the Bicycle Thief or other classics of the Neo- Realist genre in which life proceeds at a leisurely pace and multiple quotidian events and regular people ground the plot as realistically as possible.

In this film, an Iranian director (Farah Kheradmand), representing Kiarostami, travels with his son (Buba Bayour) to small town Koker in the remote mountains of Iran to find a child actor who had been in his most recent movie and about whom he worried in the wake of a strong earthquake. Clearly there is some overlap with real life events as there was a major earthquake in Iran in 1990 and one of the stars of Kiarostami's previous movies ("Where Is The Friend's Home?") lived in this area. The pace of the movie, the everyday transactions, and the humans' doggedness in the face of tragedy indicate Kiarostami's love for people and thoughtfulness as a director.

Throughout the movie, we see slices of life. We see a young couple getting married even on a day when some of their relatives die, explaining that they thought they should continue, particularly on such a sad day. We see a man lugging heavy belongings to help out his family. We see a young Buba, with the wisdom of an old man, heartbreakingly consoling a woman who has lost one of her daughters. We see a little baby crying and the director quickly consoling the baby. One of these incidents in and of itself would be insignificant, but they are linked together in such numbers that the collective weight of the movie stays with you and cannot be shaken. Together, such a collection of events comprise the guts and the essence of life. The humble dignity of the characters will not be forgotten easily.

Brilliant film by a master director

[Red-125 · 10/10 · 8 May 2020]

Zendegi va digar hich (1992) is an Iranian movie shown in the U.S. with the translated title "And Life Goes On." The film was written and directed by Abbas Kiarostami.

The movie is part of a series of films entitled "The Koker Trilogy." Koker is a small village northwest of Tehran. No one outside Iran would know anything about Koker, except for Kiarostami's films. He used Koker as the setting for the first film in the trilogy--Where is the Friend's House? (1987) (I loved this movie. It has an amazing IMDb rating of 8.1.)

After that movie, people may have vaguely remembered Koker. However, the trilogy has made it famous among Iranians and among cinephiles.

Koker is famous because of a horrible tragedy that took place on June 21, 1990. A devastating earthquake destroyed Koker and many surrounding villages. The loss of life was immense. Almost all the buildings were destroyed.

In real life, director Kiarostami and his son traveled to Koker five days after the earthquake occurred. They wanted to find out if the two brothers who starred in the earlier film had survived the earthquake.

Kiarostami turned his trip into this movie. He found that despite the immense grief felt by the local people, life did, indeed, go on.

Farhad Kheradmand starred as the film director (Kiarostami), and Buba Bayour stared as his son Puya. Neither is a professional actor, but you could never tell that from their performances, which are superb. (Bayour never acted again. Kheradmand appeared again in the third movie of the trilogy--Through the Olive Trees.)

Basically, this movie is a quest movie. The father and his young son are determined to find the young boys, and the immensity of the tragedy continually puts obstacles in their way.

Kiarostami is famous for using panoramic long shots, and this is what we see at the end of the film. The closing long shot is one of the most powerful film endings I've ever seen.

This is an amazing film. It has a very high IMDb rating of 7.9. I rated it 10. It worked well enough on the small screen, but of course it would be better in a theater. We saw it on a Criterion DVD, sold with the other two movies in the the trilogy. The films may be available separately, which would be OK. However, the Criterion edition has many video extras, along with a written essay by noted film critic Godfrey Cheshire.

This a wonderful movie--I would say it's a must-see if you love great cinema. Find it and watch it.

IMPORTANT: The trilogy should be seen in order of production: Where is the Friend's House?, then And Life Goes On, then Through the Olive Trees. The movies won't work as well if seen out of their order.

Compelling pseudo documentary from Iran

[Andy-296 · 7/10 · 18 April 2014]

In Abbas Kiraostami's acclaimed pseudo documentary, an unnamed director (Ferhad Khermanend, playing an alter ego of Kiarostami) and his young son to return to Koker, the setting of his great film "Where is the Friends Home", in the wake of the devastating 1990 earthquake that hit northern Iran. The movie is ostensibly about the search for the two boys who starred in the earlier film but it turns into a kind of fictional documentary about the strength of the human spirit in the face of disaster. the camera simply watching out the car window for much of the film, taking in the landscape, the ruins of mud houses, and the streams of homeless people hauling food and equipment to makeshift shelters. The villagers are fatalistic, believing that the earthquake was God's will, but the rebirth of the human spirit is symbolized by the fact that most people seem interested in watching the Italia 90 World Cup matches, despite their terrible tragedy they have gone through (many have lost their homes and family members). In a director with less sensibility, a movie like this would seem the shameless exploitation of a tragedy. The movie is not quite entertaining but it is compelling. The filming of this movie would itself be fictionalized by Kiarostami in Through the Olive Trees.

Master

[alansabljakovic-39044 · 8/10 · 6 March 2020]

Abbas speaks his own language, he's just on another level. He is interested in human relations and deeper messages about his culture, similar to Ozu and that's why I love him. He died too soon, RIP.

Puzzling

[martin-fennell · 7/10 · 4 August 2014]

If I hadn't read a review or two this movie before watching, i would have been convinced this was a documentary. But it's not. It's a piece of fiction which comes across as a documentary. I am thinking of Orson Welles "War of the worlds" "After the 1990 earthquake in Iran that killed over 30,000 people, Kiarostami went to search for the stars of his previous film Where Is the Friend's Home?. This film is a semi-fictional work based on these events, shot in a documentary-style. It shows a director (played by Farhad Kheradmand) on this journey through the country in the aftermath of the earthquake." The movie puzzled me. Is the main actor a professional among amateurs? The acting (and I guess it is acting) doesn't come across as acting. My favourite moment comes in a sequence during which the lead speaks to two young girls doing their laundry in the open. That's because both of their houses have been destroyed due to the disaster. One of the girls seems more timid than the other. For a few moments there is a shy smile on her face. Is that acting? Looking forward to seeing more of this directors work.

A Masterfully Faked Documentary

[chevy-5 · 10/10 · 8 April 2007]

Naturally, before obtaining this film I checked with IMDb regarding its entertainment value. But I mis-read the plot. I thought the director (and his son) played themselves in the film. Now upon re-reading the user comments here, I discover they were played by actors. Very good actors. Also I discover only seven reviews of this work. So I feel obligated to increase that number by one.

If you are a citizen of the U.S. who is registered to vote, you should also see this movie. All the people in this movie live in Iran. Iran is one of those oil-rich countries which is weaker than the U.S., making it an attractive target for American invasion. Iran is a sovereign nation, and should not be invaded.

Even after the movies end, life goes on

[ThurstonHunger · 7/10 · 26 February 2023]

The second in the Koker trilogy. While there is not an absolute demand to watch the first, "Where is the Friend's House," it certainly helps. And perhaps less so for any plot points, but to help feel for the village that gets crushed during an actual earthquake.

On and also to see the zigzag path on the hillside. As a side note it was pretty interesting to hear Kiarostami mention that path was a fabrication by him alone, that it served no real purpose. However it was a path that led him to many people and places.

The movie does feature two Kiarastomi staples. First the importance of roads in his film (I think there is a documentary about that, right?). And the second is how "real" life cannot help but bleed into his "reel" life. Especially the presence of movies within movies - while "Shirin" is not for everyone I think about that movie often.

Anyways, here the odyssey is a simple and honest one, and as I get older the idea of being able to embrace the good with the bad simultaneously is clearly more and more important, but no less simple to do so.

The young married couple were a highlight, and also Pouya sort of exploring the ruins of the village. I do think children have an ability to exist and retain their playful wonder despite the most dire surroundings. Not from this film of course, but I vaguely recall a photo of a Palestinian little girl playing in a courtyard as tanks loom just outside the walls.

Kiarostami may offer sport as spectacle for children of all ages to help with that sort of life-saving distraction. I'm honestly not too sure if that's too simple a take. I don't speak Farsi, and I am a pretty committed agnostic, but I did wonder if really the faith of those filmed was a bigger factor than futbol.

I look forward to completing my visit to Kiaratomi's Koker soon.

Watch "Where is the Friend's House?" before this.

[Kdosda_Hegen · 5/10 · 7 May 2021]

It's alright. A road movie with some social commentary on people. Too bad it ends on a cliffhanger, I started to like where the story was going to.

More than meets the eye

[huxley-4 · 6 August 2000]

Life and Nothing More (1992, dir. Abbas Kiarostami) What is so unusual about Kiarostami's films? They seem to to inhabit a world that is so ordinary, mundane even, and yet they are lent a sense of wonder as well. The simplicity of action and story is undermined by circumstances that reveal the courage that it takes just in order to live. Here a man and his son are driving to Koker, a town which has been devastated by the Iranian earthquake. Along the way they come across people who are carrying their belongings, food supplies, heaters, etc. after having lost everything. They stop to ask for directions. One woman can't help them, breaks out in tears, "I've lost 16 people" The man can only say, "May god grant you forbearance." There is no easy sentimentalism. Here life goes on for those that survive in spite of it all. There is still the need to fill ones life with love and joy and momentary pleasure. One man talks of his plan to get married in his hometown, despite the disaster. The son talks to his friend about watching a soccer game. He becomes terrifically excited by the building of an antenna at one of the nearby villages which will allow him to watch the game. You see none of the horrific footage of mangled bodies and uncontrollably hysterical victims that we usually associate with natural disasters. You only see people who have experienced tragedy, but continue to live and endure.

Quest of Life, Hope, and Love

[sulemanashiq2 · 10/10 · 16 June 2020]

And Life Goes On (Zendegi va digar hich; also called Life, and Nothing More...) is a 1992 Iranian film directed by Abbas Kiarostami. It was screened in the Un Certain Regard section at the 1992 Cannes Film Festival. It is considered the second film in Kiarostami's "Koker" trilogy.

It was the year 1990 when the Manjil-Rudbar earthquake hit and Killed 50,000 people in Iran. Director Abbas Kiarostami, director Abbas Kiarostami made the decision to return to the Iranian village of Koker to find the little boys (Babak Ahmedpour) who were part of the cast of his earlier masterpiece, "Where is the Friend's Home? It is during that trip that Kiarostami was struck by inspiration, going back to retrace his steps and film his own journey as his second entry into the eventual Koker trilogy.

It is a pseudo-documentary film and Kiarastomi was played by "Farhad Kheradmand". Basically, It is a quest film, a surprisingly heartwarming quest of life, hope, and love. It is a story of great resilience shown by the Iranian Citizen who was hit by the tragedy on June 21, 1990, of Earthquake, which destroyed many villages, taken lives, and left people homeless devasted under the shelter of the sky. People accepted it as the "Will of God" and decided to continue their life as "Life goes on and on and on".

Kiarostami is a master, and In this film, he breaks the 4th wall, and through this blasphemy of film making (to most audiences) he let his viewers join him on his quest of "Babak Ahmedpor". During 1 hour and 35 minutes of duration, I was in the car with him reflecting on the beauty of beautiful landscapes, curvy and thrilling roads, broken villages, traumatized human faces cooping with the devastation of the earthquake, even I've moist in the eyes when an Old Lady showed us(sorry, to Kiarastomi) the way to Koker and then she told us how she lost her home and beloved family members. It was like, nature was filming us from the 3rd eye. And I think, that is the real form of art, you create something which is Neo realistic, It has nothing to with reality yet it is reality, It is presented as reel life but In fact, it is real life and this kind of technique is never implemented by greats like Nolan because they present fiction onscreen in a mysterious manner and life itself is the biggest mystery and director like Abbas Kiarastomi always tried to unreveal life to present his subtleties, in slow and induced kind of manner, which is boring for some cinegoers but it is perfectly alright with some aesthetics.

Among a selected section of the audience, Kiarastomi is famous for his panoramic long shots and "And the life goes on" has many of them, full of life, hope and joy especially his conversation with the two young girls and one of them delivered her dialogues with an epitome of shyness which was splendid.

In his two scenes, one with the man who was recently married and one who was setting the antenna to watch the FIFA world cup 1990 contest, Kirastomi magnificently executed that "Why Life must go on" and it is the real code to live it.

Last World: It is a slice of life and I want you to have it. Before watching this, kindly watch the first installment of the eventual "Koker" trilogy "Where is the friend Home" which is also a very unique film to understand this story. Otherwise, It won't work.

Rating: 10/10

Life ....

[noahgibbobaker · 10/10 · 27 May 2021]

It's not often a masterpiece rolls out in front of your eyes, it's not often the football world cup plays, and it's not often 50,000 people die and another 535,000 (or so) are spared... only to live through something worse. There is life, and nothing more.

'Life, and Nothing More...' serves as an objective examination of the 1990 Manjil-Rudbar earthquake, it involves people who experienced the tragedy first hand and suffered the consequences. The story is surrounded by suffering, it is recognised that it's something to be acknowledged, but not something to dwell on. There is life, and nothing more.

They're (the film and life) about the journey rather than the destination; a journey over stunning vistas crumbling away at your feet. And they're about the questions, rather than the answers, just asking is enough to distract from the disruption. There is life, and nothing more.

The way this film adds to the previous - 'Where Is The Friends House' - is nothing short of astonishing. In my eyes this is the perfect sequel. Ideas from 'Friends House' are expanded on and the events of that film are given new context. We see the unprepared children from that film in the same vulnerable position as the adults that raised them to be so unready. That's just one example of many.

When launched so suddenly into a situation so tragic and unforeseeable, like these earthquakes, what can you do but live?. ....

Beautiful and touching.

[SameirAli · 9/10 · 7 November 2021]

Beautiful is the humble word that can be used to describe Iranian films, especially masters like Abbas Kiarostami. Based on real incidents from the Director's life, this film goes directly deep into your hearts, especially if you have seen all those films. A must watch.

Beautiful!

[moviesknight · 8/10 · 6 February 2022]

Pretty down to earth movie, too many emotions, aftermath of an earthquake. The life goes on, we have to move forwards nonetheless. Every story in there breaks your heart again and again. Worth the time.

Authentic Yet Slow Slice-of-Life Drama

[aidaneccleston · 6/10 · 26 February 2024]

It was kind of a mixed bag for me. It's got this really authentic feel, like you're peeping into real people's lives after this huge earthquake shakes up everything. The way it shows their struggles and how they try to keep going is pretty deep. You can tell the director wanted to make it feel super real, and on that front, they nailed it. But, to be honest, it kind of dragged on without much happening, and I found myself checking how much time was left more than once.

I'm giving it a 6/10 because I respect what it was trying to do, showing life's tough moments and the strength people have to find to move forward. And yeah, there were parts that made me think and feel something about the characters and their situations. But as a movie, I just wished it had more stuff going on to keep me glued to the screen. It's cool if you're into films that are all about real life and don't mind a slower pace, but if you're looking for excitement or a clear story, this might not be your thing.

Life lesson and Eye popping in a good way

[willeasyer · 8/10 · 4 August 2020]

A bueatiful sensual film, although it's set in this catastrophic and disatrous timing post a destructive Earthquake, this film goes beyond the pain and the sorrow to dilver a deep existential film about moving none and keep living. Kiarostami made us see this sad situation through the lenses of an outsider and his son. who isn't touched by the earthquake, as he goes in these villages questioning and dialoguing with the sinisters about their survival and their outlook with the allegory of looking for a certain kid. The film doesn't fall into drama and it stays light and tenderly beautiful to the point you forget about the sinster event, without overthinking the event, the most memorable parts of this film are the dialogue with the old man, we doesn't want to see the earthquake as nothing more than a simple earthquake, refuting the "will of god" thesis, and his example of a wolf hunting one sheep in a heard illustrates it, or the dialogue of the kid with the lady who saw the death of her daughter as the will of god, to only be contradicted by the innocent son telling her "god doesn't kill kids" and telling her the story of Abraham, and the last part where the victims of this earthquake resemble to watch a world cup football game. All this to only reflects the deep existential thematic and life perception of the film. To overcome sorrow we tend to give meaning to things, to blame someone, and find the essence of the event, but still life doesn't follow any law, and isn't manipulated like a pinball game by god or whatever, life is a contest flow that keeps going no matter what, without taking consideration of anyone and as the film tells it through the kids stories of survival it's all a matter of luck, timing and coincidence.

Drive through devastated Iran but spirits are higher as life goes on..

[akj-35143 · 8/10 · 29 May 2022]

Survivors of the earthquake mourning the dead. Same time curious about World Soccer Cup. Houses have to be rebuilt and TV antennas be lifted. Simple people, simple lives.. but what poverty in this day and age.

The Koker Trilogy

[tieman64 · 9 October 2011]

"I believe the films of Iranian filmmaker Abbas Kiarostami are extraordinary. Words cannot relate my feelings." - Akira Kurosawa

Abbas Kiarostami directed "Where is the Friend's Home?" in 1987, the tale of an 8 year old boy who embarks on a quest to find his friend's house. The film took place in Koker, a village in northern Iran. The village was devastated three years later by the 1990 Manjil-Rudbar earthquake. This earthquake prompted Kiarostami's real-life return to Koker, a journey in which he attempted to locate the young stars of his 1987 film, all of whom were actual Koker residents. Kiarostami's 1992 film, "Life and Nothing More", reconstructs this journey. His 1994 film, "Through the Olive Trees", is partially about the making of "Life and Nothing More". This trilogy of films marks a larger shift in Kiarostami's filmography: a movement away from neorealism and toward postmodern self-reference.

Unlike most "natural disaster movies", "Life and Nothing More" quickly forgoes condescending gestures. Kiarostami has little time for either noble sufferers or canned sorrow. Instead he focuses on two characters, an unnamed film-maker (a stand-in for Kiarostami himself) and his young son, both of whom travel to Koker in a rickety yellow car. Landslides and traffic hamper their journey, but pretty soon they arrive in Koker. They then embark on a mission to locate the two young boys who appeared in the director's "Where is the Friend's House?" Both films offer similar journeys and tell tales of, not human beings conquering adversity (both quests fail; the boy never found his friend's house, and the film-makers never find the boys), but of characters persevering despite obstacles. Climbing is thus a repeated motif, Kiarostami treating us to long-shots of vehicles trekking up mountains and characters who either push unrelentingly onward or clamber out of rubble. Kiarostami's camera lingers on debris and collapsed concrete, Koker's residents like solitary weeds sprouting weakly upwards after a drought.

Later, a woman tells us she lost her home and family, but declines outside assistance. She will get by on her own. "If the dead could return," another haggard character tells us, "they would appreciate life more." This character, who plays himself playing himself, was cast in Kiarostami's previous film, where he was made to look "older and uglier". "That is not art," he states. "If you make an old man young and handsome, that's art!"

"Life and Nothing More" traces something similar; an attempt to tease out something handsome and dignified amidst perpetual calamity. But this reflexivity is then complicated. The man may have been made "uglier" on film, but, as he now reveals, the previous film lied by suggesting that he lives in a house rather than a simple tent. This tension – art which ennobles, searches for truths, but also lies and perverts – increasingly obsesses Kiarostami, as his films become less neorealist, more Goddardian and more reflexive. Indeed, increasingly his films don't ask us to enter worlds but instead obsessively revolve around characters who skirt around the edges of worlds, places and actions. They are spectators like us. The car in "Life and Nothing More" is itself a glorified camera mount, shielding both us and its occupants from the outside, even as we and our heroes try in vain to establish contact with the outside world. Kiarostami's films may be structured as games of searching, finding and looking, but are increasingly about the very postmodern problem of seeing, subjectivity and the limits of knowledge. He's, in a sense, the Iranian Atom Egoyan.

Postmodern cinema plays up self-reference, homage, pastiche, nihilistic self-absorption and a detachment from the social. But while Kiarostami's films increasingly call attention to themselves as representation, and are increasingly self-reflexive (they do not quote films outside of Kiarostami's filmography), they mostly lack the smug sense of self-conscious sophistication (and knowingness) which postmodernists trade in. Where central to postmodernism is the gap between the image of reality and what is reality – with the sign always victorious over essence – Kiarostami's work searches out that essence with the assumption that everything is capable of being at least somewhat true or containing truths.

The third film in what is often called "the Koker trilogy" (it is also three steps meta-removed from the original film), "Through the Olive Trees" opens with a movie director (Kiarostami's surrogate) conducting a casting call. He's looking for a female villager to play the leading role in his new film. He finally selects a woman called Tehereh. She will play a bride. Off-set Tehereh is similarly courted by a man, Hossein, who seeks to make her his bride. The film's great joke is that Hossein is also cast in the film within the film and that Tehereh refuses to speak to him as a co-star; he's poor, homeless and illiterate and Tehereh's parents disapprove of his marriage requests. What Kiarostami is concerned with, though, is the way comedy conceals tragedy, the way the fictional film conceals what it also unintentionally documents and how this tug-of-war itself results in Koker's rebuilding in the wake of the quake.

In all three films, Kiarostami's visuals are wonderfully minimalist, though this tone often gives way to either surreal moments or visual gags. Recall surreal shots of a man carrying a urinal, footpaths which zig-zag up hill-faces and the way matter-of-fact dialogue offered by various civilians clash with the earthquake's horrible aftermath.

Heavyweight film-makers like Godard, Kurosawa and Antonioni (Kiarostami's "Close Up" in many ways is influenced by Antonioni's "Blow Up") have all expressed a fondness for Kiarostami's films. Kiarostami's "Life and Nothing More" was retitled "And Life Goes On..." in the West, a less gloomy title which, in a way, sums up the kind of art-house sentimentality that is responsible for Kiarostami's popularity. Kiarostami's next feature was the audience polarising "Taste of Cherry".

8.5/10 – Worth two viewings.

Trumped up American Reality TV

[omegabane · 22 September 2003]

Unlike his earlier film, Where is the Friend's House, Abbas Kiarostami's Life, and Nothing More fails to enrapture viewers with the real life of contemporary Iran. While Friend's House was a moving film rooted in the Iranian child's sense of responsibility, Life is little more than a trumped up Iranian version of American reality TV. For the entire film, we are literally dragged along while a man, portraying Kiarostami, and his son go in search of the two young actors from Where is the Friend's House following a devastating earthquake. We accompany them as they sit in traffic jams, take side roads that seem to go nowhere, and get directions from people who don't know anything about where the roads lead. During our busy lives, we experience enough traffic jams or wrong turns without having to sit through them during a film. Along the way, the director and his son give rides to various characters, which inevitably leads to trite dialogue reminiscent of the pseudo-philosophical talk you would hear in the living room of the Big Brother house. In addition to the one-dimensional characters, the use of classical music in three different scenes of the film is completely inappropriate and throws the viewer even further out of the already palsied narrative.

*** possible "spoiler" follows ***

Kiarostami's choice of ending destroys his final chance at redeeming the film by failing to leave the viewer with any resolution. After leaving his son to watch the football match on TV in the tent-camp, and finding the road to Koker, the director must match his old car against a daunting hill. After several failed attempts at climbing the hill, he turns around and drives back the way he came. Naturally, the viewer assumes that he has given up finding the boys and is going to return home, but moments later we see him come back and make one more attempt at conquering the hill. This last attempt is successful, and in the final shot, we watch the car stop to pick up one final passenger and then drive off-screen in the direction of Koker. The viewer never learns whether or not the boys are alive, or even if the director makes it to Koker. While even an ending where the director gives up would not be satisfactory, leaving the film's central question unanswered makes the 95 minutes spent watching the movie an unjustifiable waste of time. In the end, the film amounts to little more than an undeveloped `reality show' with the cliché message of `it's the journey that counts.' Your time would be better spent watching the re-run of Who Wants to Marry a Multi-Millionaire.