The shot lasts eleven minutes. For eleven minutes, we watch a one-sided conversation. Hossein lectures, pleads, cajoles, and reasons. He talks about his house, his reading habits, the practicalities of marriage. He explains why he is worthy of her. Tahereh says nothing. She stares straight ahead. She does not run, she does not turn around. She simply walks.
Kiarostami gives us a single, vertiginous, long tracking shot. The camera, mounted on a jeep, moves parallel to the two figures walking along a dirt road. But the terrain is uneven. The jeep rises and falls. The frame shakes. The wind blows the microphone. Between the camera and the couple, a thick row of olive trees constantly slips in and out of the foreground, obscuring our view. Through the olive trees- Abbas Kiarostami
The Director watched all of this. He realized the drama happening between the takes was infinitely more beautiful and tragic than the script he had written. Life was refusing to imitate his art, so he decided his art must chase after life. The shot lasts eleven minutes
