Taste — Of Cherry Subtitles

The most famous moment—the final 4:3 digital footage of Kiarostami behind the camera, breaking the fourth wall—has no dialogue. Subtitles go silent. That silence is the truest translation: the film’s meaning escapes language entirely. A cherry’s taste cannot be subtitled. Only watched, felt, and shared. If you meant a different “taste of cherry” (song, poem, or phrase), please clarify and I’ll gladly adjust the essay.

Subtitling Taste of Cherry poses unique challenges. The original Persian uses formal and informal registers, poetic idioms, and cultural references to death (e.g., the mulberry tree, the taste of cherry as a metaphor for earthly pleasure). English subtitles often reduce these layers. When the old taxidermist tells Badii that he “lost the taste for cherries” but found it again, the subtitle conveys meaning but loses the musical repetition of mazzeh (taste) in Persian. The viewer reads words, not texture. taste of cherry subtitles

Yet subtitles also democratize. For non-Persian speakers, they open Kiarostami’s long takes of silence—where a character’s hesitation speaks louder than dialogue. Subtitles force a choice: translate literally (“I will help you die”) or interpretively (“I will cover you after you take your own life”). Most official subtitles choose the latter, softening the film’s bluntness about suicide, perhaps to meet censorship or audience expectations. In doing so, they reshape Badii’s desperation into something more palatable. The most famous moment—the final 4:3 digital footage