But then—and this is the miracle—she stops. She turns. She lifts her hand to her head, adjusts her white headscarf. Then, in the most subtle, un-cinematic gesture in film history, she looks back at him. And she runs slowly . She runs back to him. She passes him and continues up the hill. Hossein, stunned, turns to follow.
As they move farther into the distance, Hossein suddenly stops. He turns. He looks at Tahereh. Then, he begins to run—not toward her, but up the hill to intercept her. Through the olive trees- Abbas Kiarostami
At first glance, Through the Olive Trees is a deceptive puzzle. It appears to be a simple, neorealist tale of a poor, illiterate stonemason named Hossein who is desperately trying to convince a young, educated woman named Tahereh to marry him. But this description is like calling Moby Dick a book about a whale. To watch Through the Olive Trees is to enter a hall of mirrors where the director, the actors, and the audience are all complicit in the act of “making believe.” To understand the film, one must understand its context. The Koker Trilogy began with Where Is the Friend’s House? (1987), a simple, heartbreaking story of a boy trying to return a notebook to his classmate in the rural village of Koker, Iran. It continued with And Life Goes On (1992), a meta-documentary following a director (played by Farhad Kheradmand) searching for the boy from the first film after the devastating 1990 Manjil–Rudbar earthquake. But then—and this is the miracle—she stops
The most revealing scene occurs during the rehearsal of the "carrying the wife" sequence. The director needs Tahereh to look at Hossein with "loving eyes" as he carries her over the stream. But Tahereh, in real life, refuses to even look at Hossein. The director tries to coax her, then demands, then finally gives up. He tells the actors to simply go through the motions. Kiarostami seems to be asking: Can you fake love? If you perform the actions of love enough times, does love emerge? Or is the performance a lie that reveals a deeper truth? Then, in the most subtle, un-cinematic gesture in