Close-Up

a film that distorts the line between media, art, and reality so much that the pleasure of viewing it blends into a cocktail of all those things, an experience that only this thin slice of cinema can offer. it is a mosaic of the mystical power of the movies, how it permeates our dreams and day-to-day lives. sabzian is granted almost a rebirth through his infatuation with art and cinema, though expressed in a deliberate act of deceit. he covets the identity of his hero, assuming the authority of director through the false guise of makhmalbaf. however, chained by the pains of poverty and his waking struggles, this indulgent fantasy is his means to really live. and it all really happens. the closing sequence is a scene ripped from our reality, the constant exit and entry of sound drives that point even further. those are real tears shed, that is a real hug shared. sitting in front of the screen, usually we are spectators to the imaginings of another mind. close-up thrusts us out of that comfort though, we are almost made complicit in this moment. we are no longer viewers of a film, but witnesses to the unfolding of something real.