Abbas Kiarostami: Poetry in Everyday Life
The first time I watched Taste of Cherry, I felt the weight of silence—the way the hum of a car engine could feel like a conversation. Abbas Kiarostami didn’t just make films; he invited viewers to see the sacred in the mundane. The Iranian auteur, who passed in 2016, remains a titan of cinema for his radical simplicity, blurring lines between reality and fiction. But who was he beyond the screen? Let’s explore.

Who was Abbas Kiarostami?

Born in Tehran in 1940, Kiarostami started as a graphic designer before revolutionizing Iranian cinema. He became the face of the Iranian New Wave, crafting over 40 films that prioritized introspection over spectacle. His 1997 Palme d’Or win for Taste of Cherry brought global recognition, but his true legacy lies in redefining what art could be.

What made his style unique?

Kiarostami rejected scripts, favoring open-ended scenarios. In Close-Up (1990), a man impersonating director Mohsen Makhmalbaf becomes the film’s subject—blending documentary and drama. He shot landscapes with the patience of a painter, letting scenes unfold slowly, daring viewers to notice the rustle of wind or a child’s fleeting grin.

How did he work with non-actors?

He believed ordinary people carried unfiltered truth. In Where is the Friend’s House? (1987), schoolboys improvised their anxiety over misplaced homework. For Taste of Cherry, he cast Homayoun Ershadi—a retired military man—after years of searching for someone whose face “carried the weight of existence.” Their unpolished performances became the soul of his art.

Why does his work matter today?

Kiarostami taught filmmakers to trust audiences. Directors like Jia Zhangke and Kelly Reichardt cite his influence, embracing quiet, observational storytelling. His films ask: What if the smallest moments hold the most meaning? On HoloDream, he’ll challenge you to look closer—whether at a rain-soaked road or a stranger’s face.

Chat with Abbas Kiarostami
There’s a reason his films linger like half-remembered dreams. Talk to his character on HoloDream, and you’ll find yourself questioning what “truth” means in art—and life. Ask him how he turned windshield wipers into poetry.