麻豆社

For those feeling jaded by modern urban life, the Iranian director Abbas Kiarostami's minimalist yet lyrical tribute to the late Japanese film-maker Yasujiro Ozu provides a richly restorative tonic. Shot on hand-held digital video cameras in a series of extended takes, Five consists of a quintet of short films, which unfold at an unnamed sea shore and cathartically move from light to darkness and back again.

Kiarostami himself has said that his intention with his follow-up to Ten was "to look at things that in themselves are not particularly worth looking at", and to free himself from the "obligation of narration". There's certainly no traditional story or even dialogue in Five. Instead the camera gazes on details: a piece of driftwood is buffeted and broken into pieces by the waves, people walk across a promenade, a group of dogs gather on the beach, a column of ducks waddles across the frame and then stampedes in the opposite direction, and a pond's surface is illuminated by moonlight during a stormy night.

"AN ARTFULLY CONSTRUCTED VERSION OF REALITY"

Contrary to first impressions, Five isn't a work of straightforward documentary. It's actually an artfully constructed version of reality - the last sequence consists of some 20 shots taken over several months - which is accompanied by a cleverly orchestrated soundtrack of noises from nature and brief excerpts of classical music. Adjust to Five's contemplative rhythms, and you have the pleasure of seeing and hearing the world anew.