Of all last year’s films I’ve belatedly caught up on, this is the most likely to have been top-10 rated. For all the difficulties of its creation — its director, after all, is still officially banned from making films, and so this one is released without any credits — it never feels anything less than fresh and insightful. The set-up, which undoubtedly has a documentary-like flavour to it for official censorious reasons, is that director Jafar Panahi is driving a cab around Tehran while surreptitiously filming his fares from a hidden dashboard camera, which he occasionally manipulates to turn around and face out to the street (though there appears to be a second camera somewhere in the roof). Needless to say, it’s not at all clear that all of this isn’t staged, but it’s a fascinating insight into a hidden society every bit as damning as, say, The Circle (2000), or one of Panahi’s earlier, licit, films, while being on the surface fairly sunny and easygoing — no little thanks to Panahi’s friendly, smiling presence in the driver’s seat. There’s also, as is de rigueur for a certain strand of Iranian filmmaking (his first two films were The White Balloon and The Mirror, the latter referenced here), an adorable young girl, Panahi’s niece, who seems pretty on-the-ball about filmmaking, and is the conduit for explicitly introducing the Islamic State’s official self-censoring rules about it. The film may never leave the confines of the car, but it never feels claustrophobic or limited as a result, but is instead a free-wheeling portrait of a society, and a ripose to Panahi’s official critics.
Director/Writer/Cinematographer Jafar Panahi | Starring Jafar Panahi | Length 82 minutes || Seen at Picturehouse Central, London, Tuesday 19 January 2016