Still barred from officially making movies, the house arrest has been lifted and Jafar Panahi is now free to move about the countryside. It’s life and death in the backseat of a cab as Panahi tools around Tehran in search of flailing arms and predetermined passengers. The fares range from the serious (an accident victim records his last will and testament) to the sublime (a fan, quick to recognize his driver, hawks black market DVDs from the back of the hack). Too often, it veers in the direction of Jafar Panahi’s Taxicab Confessions, with only half of the lipstick cameras budgeted for the HBO series. Still, Taxi is easily the director’s most accessible work to date. To those not yet familiar with the man’s films, there is no better starting place. For the hardcore Panahists, the parting shot will no doubt leave even the most jaded among us sporting ear-to-ear grins. (2015) — Scott Marks
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