Rating:

Certified Copy could have very easily been pretentious and self-indulgent. Instead it is honest and profound.

Written and directed by Abbas Kiarostami, it is one of those beautiful, multi-lingual, international productions that seem to pop up more and more the further into the 21st century we get. It was directed by an Iranian, produced by the French, filmed in Italy and stars French starlet Juliette Binoche and English opera singer William Shimell. It also features mostly English dialogue, in addition to Italian and French.

The story is simple and slight, but don’t think it’s improvised. This isn’t a mumblecore film by any means, and every story and character beat it takes is very deliberate.

Certified Copy may not be for everyone, but for those viewers who favour characters and ideas over the tyranny of narrative, it’s a wonderful film experience.

While in Tuscany giving a talk on his latest book, a philosophical essay on the nature of artistic copies, James Miller (Shimell) meets a French woman (Binoche) who decides to show him around the countryside for the day. As they meander about Tuscan villages and debate the merits of artistic copies and the subjectivity of artistic experience, the true nature of their relationship begins to be revealed — sort of.

Something about their relationship is fabricated, and halfway through the film, the entire dynamic between the two of them changes. But the film never specifies what the truth is. It’s clear that to Kiarostami and the characters, the truth does not matter. And that is the film’s crux: it does not matter what is a copy and what is an original if both are indistinguishable and meaning can be gleaned from both.

This may all sound a little artsy and full of affectation, but the most surprising aspect of the film is how real and emotional it is. Kiarostami is not content to just skim the surface and discuss philosophical ideas through the guise of his characters. He examines just how much of an impact our beliefs about art and originality and authenticity can have on us, on how we live our lives and behave in our relationships.

Binoche and Shimell are marvelous in bringing their mysterious characters to life. Every seemingly innocuous conversation holds emotional weight just beneath the surface and perplexingly banal remarks earlier in the film are illuminated by later revelations. Their combined performances may just be the best of the year so far.

The film rewards your attention and your patience. It also moves at a deliberate enough pace to allow you time to ponder some of the very questions it asks in regards to your own life. As well, at 106 minutes Certified Copy does not overstay its welcome. Unlike many films dealing with lofty ideas, it properly understands audience endurance and knows when to end.

And it’s a gorgeous looking film. Considering it was filmed in Tuscany, that’s not too hard to imagine.

Certified Copy may not be for everyone, but for those viewers who favour characters and ideas over the tyranny of narrative, it’s a wonderful film experience. If you’re willing to surrender to its gentle pace and melancholy tone, it will reward you with a wealth of ideas to ponder and discuss. It analyzes philosophical questions pertaining to art, but it does so within the confines of human relationships. Unlike other films with philosophy and art on their minds, it understands that philosophy and art do not exist within a vacuum, and that any meaningful discussion of either has to be framed within the context of human experience.

Certified Copy is currently playing at the Roxy Theatre.

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Poster: MK2