REVIEW: DVD Release: Ten

Film: Ten
Year of production: 2002
UK Release date: 27th June 2011
Distributor: Artificial Eye
Certificate: 15
Running time: 91 mins
Director: Abbas Kiarostami
Starring: Mania Akbari, Amin Maher, Kamran Adl, Roya Arabshahi, Amene Moradi
Genre: Drama
Format: DVD
Country of Production: France/Iran/USA
Language: Persian

Review by: Mark Player

Originally available through Optimum Home Releasing since 2003, Abbas Kiarostami's Ten is being re-released as part of Artificial Eye's new Abbas Kiarostami Collection. The DVD set also includes Ten's behind-the-scenes companion piece 10 On Ten, as well as Taste Of Cherry, The Wind Will Carry Us, ABC Africa and Certified Copy.

Not to be confused with Blake Edwards' film of the same name, where Dudley Moore becomes romantically obsessed with a swimsuit-clad Bo Derek, Kiarostami's Ten is regarded as somewhat of a landmark in contemporary Iranian cinema. Taking a much loved narrative technique used by the director in many of his past works (conversations taking placed inside a car) to its logical limit, the film is set entirely in a single vehicle. Not only does it result in an intriguing character study of the car's owner, but offers an interesting evaluation of Iranian society from a usually repressed female perspective.

The character in question is a nameless female driver of the car (Mania Akbari), formerly divorced, but now remarried to another man. The film is divided into ten sections (hence the title), each one dedicated to a different conversation involving the driver and a passenger – her young son, Amin; her sister; an elderly religious woman; a prostitute hitching a lift; and a friend with a complicated love-life – as they travel through the crowded streets of Iran.

The passengers confide their frustrations with the driver, discussing their role and identity (or lack of) in a society where women are best neither seen nor heard. Gradually, we also start to learn things about the driver; chiefly: how her divorce and subsequent second marriage has affected the relationship with her 8-year-old son...


Using non-actors, set in a single location (albeit a moving one) and taking full advantage of the flexibility offered by digital camera equipment, Ten is about as low-key as an internationally released film can get. The entire production consists of two cameras fixed onto the dashboard, one pointing at each front seat. Indeed, the film feels somewhat paradoxical in nature: a work from one of Iran's most revered auteurs that in actuality, considering the nature of the production, had very little input from him. Much of the dialogue was improvised and the characters were partly based on the people that played them; for instance, the driver and her son in the film are also mother and son in real life and much of their ensuing tension stems from real traumas.

The performances, then, if they can be called such, are very good; evoking a candid, fly-on-the-wall naturalism that was undoubtedly the film's intention. The real meat lies in the verbal confrontations between the driver and her son, with the precocious Amin (Amin Maher) making for a formidable sparring partner; challenging his mother's desires for an independent lifestyle in the face of marital and parental commitments as well as society's wish for quiet conformity. Some of his chauvinistic tirades last up to fifteen minutes; the majority of which captured in a single shot, but not necessarily in a single take, however. The splicing together of multiple takes from the same angle is very slight, yet noticeable upon closer inspection, but the performances remain impressive nonetheless.

Another interesting facet to the performances is the amount of time that they're visible on screen. Kiarostami has chosen a very careful and unhurried editing pace, meaning that the film will play out for several minutes before cutting to the other person in the conversation, except for the segments involving the old woman on her way to the Mausoleum for prayer and the prostitute, where Kiarostami decides to never show them. Only a glimpse is afforded to the latter, as she stands on a street corner with her back turned to camera in the only shot of the film that's not inside the car.

Whilst there isn't a plot in the traditional sense, that's not to say that the Ten is about nothing. It’s a look at a small, predominantly female group, who feel they lack the ability to control their own lives and fulfil their own desires. Segments are introduced via numbered title cards that count from ten down to one - designed to emulate an old-fashioned film leader, but this has the appearance of a cheap video effect. On the bright side, those who find the following conversations to be tediously everyday – which, admittedly, they are – will easily be able to work out how many segments are left.

Naturally, Ten's defiance of standard cinematic conventions won't be for everyone. Also, one can't help but think that it would've made for a better video installation in an art gallery than a full length feature. The concept, albeit very pure and easily defined, feels as if it’s being stretched to fit the gap, as opposed to being pushed to its limits. However, while it could be argued that other recent national works, such as Marjane Satrapi's animated biography, Persepolis, look at the role of women in Iranian society in a more structured and entertaining way, it doesn't come close to the verity honesty that's evident here.


Ten is a fascinating exercise in filmmaking economy; however, such minimalism requires plenty of patience in order to fully appreciation the film. Some will be put off by the cheap, no-frills production; others will be captivated by its rawness. Either way, Ten remains a daring and challenging work in more ways than one. MP