Neil Bahadur’s review published on Letterboxd:
Perhaps the only film that can successfully venture into the undefinable, like the greatest works of art - this is Kiarostami staring directly into the void. Shot-reverse shot as the ultimate axiom, a series of dichomities between driver and passenger, the reasons to die and the reasons to live, ones relationship to themselves and their relationship to the world, what's been taken from you and what's in front of you, the emotions we cling to to preserve our own sense of self, and our own fundamental need to communicate. One is death, and the other is life.
This is that perfect work of art that one dreams of making, perfect not because of construction but its profundity, where one realizes there's more to life than the meaning of existence. That there is a great beauty in seeing the sun set or the moon rise for the final time, so much so that it's enough to wonder why you'd never want to see it again in the first place. And the ending of course, as though Kiarostami is placing his signature on his own work - not out of possession or authority but because he knows it's necessary, that the work is a part of him, and to show the films making is to show that every work is also a documentary of its own making. That every film, or every painting, or piece of music, or novel is a document of its own author. Or as my friend Kelley Dong put it: "Making movies to claim your life and seize immortality."
Alignment with Mr. Badii's subjectivity through shot-reverse shot = the meaningfulness of seeing everything for the "last" time, one does not need to know the meaning of existence, the meaning is in existence itself.