LIKE SOMEONE IN LOVE: Abbas Kiarostami turns from Tuscany to Tokyo -- seamlessly

How wonderful is it to watch this fabled Iranian director's work outside his own country? Let me count the ways. After the playful delights of Certified Copy, set in Tuscany, Abbas Kiarostami has now moved to Tokyo and has set the bar in his new film a good bit higher.

There is much more at stake for at least two of the three characters we meet in LIKE SOMEONE IN LOVE: for the young woman, a student working her way through college (as we used to say); and for her maybe-fiance, a hugely enamored fellow with rather severe anger-management problems. The third wheel in this weirdly shaped vehicle (and yes, cars are nearly ever-present here, as elsewhere in the filmmaker's oeuvre) is the old man Takakshi (a splendidly correct performance by octogenarian Tadaski Okluna, below) whom the younger man first mistakes for his girl's grandfather.

Identity is front and center once again, but for good reason and with possibly very ugly consequences. And yet Like Someone in Love, named for the old song we hear on the soundtrack, refuses to grow too dark. As my companion, who made a rare trip to the screening along with me, pointed out, all the characters (and not only these main three) are so determined to have want they want at the moment -- dinner and some good conversation, bed and sleep, or a full-blown relationship -- that they prove absolutely tenacious in going after this. Which only leads to further problems.

Our heroine, the exquisitely lovely Akiko, played by Rin Takanashi, above) seems the most vulnerable. Why not? She's a woman, and she has placed herself in a very tricky employment situation.

Her boyfriend, Noriake (Ryo Kase, above) acts first and weighs consequences later. He's probably a rotter or sorts, but even he, off and on, grabs our conscience and concern, so we hope he'll get it together eventually.

Kiarostami not only begins his film in media res (above, in a bar, on a cell phone), he rather daringly ends it there, too -- with an act of minor violence that could lead to something worse -- leaving us not at all confused but rather suddenly out of breath.

Moment to moment, however, throughout the entire movie, we're with these characters, and a few others, with each given just the right weight and meaning (one of which is played by the great character actor Denden, who was so terrific in Cold Fish) so that we follow along, just able to keep up with the twists and turns of the relatively simple plot -- in which exposition is used sparingly.

Much of this takes place, as so often with Kiarostami, in automobiles. Even one extended scene out of the auto is set in a garage where cars are repaired. And "love" is not something simply used in the title. We see a lot of variations on this theme -- from the jealous and possessive type (Noriake's) to the tender and caring (Takashi's) to the unrequited (Takashi's next-door neighbor) to the new-and-not-yet-understood (Akiko's).

All this is woven together seamlessly by one of the world's great filmmakers. If you have never seen a Kiarostami film, this new one makes a fine entry point. If you already know his work, you've probably ordered your tickets already. After succeeding so well in both Tuscany and Tokyo, maybe Abbas will turn next to Texas. I'd love to see what he comes up with here in America....

Like Someone in Love, from Sundance Selects and running 109 minutes, opens this Friday, February 15, in New York -- at the Landmark Sunshine Cinema and the The Film Society of Lincoln Center's Walter Reade Theater -- where “A Close-Up of Abbas Kiarostami,” a complete career retrospective of this filmmaker's work, takes place from February 8-17 -- and in Los Angeles (at Laemmle's Royal Theater, and the following Friday at the Town Center 5 and Playhouse 7). A limited national rollout will follow. The film will also be available nationwide on Sundance Selects’ video-on-demand platform, available to over 50 million homes in all major markets.

Abbas Kiarostami -- out from under Iran's yoke -- graces us with CERTIFIED COPY

For all those who've wondered what kind of movies middle-eastern filmmakers might make, were they not constrained by fundamentalist regimes and values, we've got at least one major answer. Iran's own world-class movie-maker Abbas Kiarostami, with his new CERTIFIED COPY, has produced a film so witty and sophis-ticated, so light on its feet even as it deals with quite weighty topics, that if I did not know the identity of its writer/director, Mr. Kiarostami's would be the last name I'd guess. Certainly there are similarities between his former films and this one: use of close-up, love of faces, interest in how character shapes decision-making. But still: I'd never have imagined.

Filming in Italy and using one of that country's most gifted cinematographers, Luca Bigazzi (Il Divo, The Sicilian Girl),  Kiarostami (shown at left) has achieved a "look" that none of his other movies begins to approach. More than mere look, however, is the unusual content of his film. Imagine for a moment all the freedom, the possibilities that were open to this filmmaker for his first foray out "west." Yet he has chosen to make a quiet, nearly two-handed love story about art and life, originals and copies, ownership and pleasure, men and women, the true and the false. And he does all this via the prolonged conversation between his two lead characters during the first day they spend together, getting to know one another.

The dialog between them is alert and thoughtful, playful and angry, confused and concerned. It's not the rapid-fire stuff of Sturgess nor full of cute, au courant Ephron-isms. Instead, this conversation lays bare the connections men and women need to make if they are to join forces -- with art and its place in life as the background. This is heavy-duty but Kiarostami and his two leads make it seem effort-less, even when the talk and behavior take a turn for the surreal.

In the leading roles are the ubiquitous Juliette Binoche (above) and a baritone opera star relatively new to film named William Shimell (below). We know Binoche, and she is her usual, unusual self. That is to say: a different, but equally believable character -- quicksilver, playful, often angry -- that we have not seen up to now. Shimmel partners her with surprising aplomb; he's reticent but studly, stern but courtly, and does not let her character get away with a thing.

You may be put in mind briefly of everything from Linklater's Before Sunrise to Dassin's 10:30 PM Summer (but without the over-wrought quality that makes that latter film such weird fun). When the couple begins role playing -- and nearly seamlessly, at that -- you'll be ready to cry uncle. Visually, the filmmaker and his cinema-tographer make the most of mirror images (copies!), and there is one remarkable moment in which, when the perspective changes ever so slightly on a couple whom we think is engaged in a conver-sation, our entire viewpoint and understanding changes with it.

We also meet the Binoche character's young son (another copy?), played by the very good Adrian Moore, (above, from one of my favorites, Lezione 21).  Perhaps the film's funniest, most telling moment, however, involves brides -- and the replacement (another copy!) who quietly takes her place in a certain chair, below.  This is a movie that repeated viewings can only reward.

Certified Copy, from Sundance Selects, hits theaters this Friday, March 11, and will be available On-Demand beginning Wednesday, March 23.