How Much Should I Pay to Have Lunch with Abbas?
One of my favorite hobbies in China is attending job interviews from time to time. Not like I am actually searching for a full-time position, as I am highly respectful of Chinese government rules regarding foreign students' work permits. Still, I enjoy talking about politics and art with working adults who already put their shit together after a certain age, something that I have not been very successful at yet.
In my latest attempt, I had dinner with this guy and his colleague from a southern city in China. Obviously, I will not disclose any information about the company or the position, as I am not only highly respectful of Chinese rules regarding foreign students' work permits, but I am also extremely respectful of my potential coworkers. Nevertheless, the interesting thing that happened during dinner was not really related to me, but to the guy's fondness for Abbas Kiarostami's cinema.
For those who might not know about Kiarostami, he is perhaps the most famous Iranian director, or in the top three with Farhadi and Panahi (I do not like Panahi's cinema, but that is a story for another time). The impressive thing about Kiarostami's works, however, is their artsy nature. While I can understand why he is celebrated, as he has a great sense of both aesthetics and sentiment in the story, I just cannot see him becoming highly popular among the masses. There are certain directors whose movies are both likable to critics and cinephiles, and accessible for a wider audience of movie-goers. I believe Christopher Nolan and Steven Spielberg are suitable instances for this, as they are both relatively admired in both communities. Kiarostami, on the other hand, comes from a range of directors who are not really looking for box office triumph, and his best work, in my opinion, Taste of Cherry, was even facing a lot of criticism in Iran due to its tone and narrative that did not really resonate with an average movie-goer.
Now imagine how surprised I was when I heard about this guy's obsession with Kiarostami. At first, he mentioned my recent piece on Jia Zhangke's Pickpocket and the fact that Zhangke is his favorite Chinese director. It was particularly surprising that I was having dinner with a guy whose favorite Iranian director is my favorite Iranian director, and my favorite Chinese director is his favorite Chinese director. We had a good time discussing their similarities, barely talking about work. At one point, I realized he does not know about Kiarostami's death. He came closer to me and asked, "Do you know how much I should pay to have lunch with Abbas? I will pay anything just to talk about cinema with him." I was speechless. We always say that artists will live forever as long as their work is seen by people, and here I am, not knowing what to answer to a sincere question that comes from a deep-rooted, genuine, and beautiful appreciation for my country's culture and art. I laughed and changed the topic. I preferred not to ruin his fantasy about having lunch with one of his favorite directors.
Coming across people who know about Iran through its art has always been one of the greatest pleasures since I came here. I still remember the very first moment I joined the movie community of the university. Other students started asking my opinion on Kiarostami, or as they call him, "Abbas." They were curious whether Panahi and Rasoulof were showing the real picture of Iran or not (spoiler alert, they do not). Later, I had multiple presentations on Iranian cinema at our university and chose my thesis topic based on that. I believe it is amusing how something that has been a regular part of your life for a long time can become one of the most significant aspects of your identity after moving to a new place. For me, that happened with Iranian cinema, and I am so glad I can talk about it with those who appreciate it, even if it means lying to them about a potential lunch with Abbas.