Ashik Kerib

mixture of parable and fairy-tale, expression of Parajanov art, it is naive, seductive and strange. like an Oriental carpet. labyrinth and search of life sense. a love story in old Caucasian traditions, laws and rules. it is not a surprise. only a kind of last will. and a declaration of freedom for a new world. amusing, it is a lesson about a world. precise, it is trip in heart of a manner to understand existence. mystic, it is a speech about passion, sacrifice and ideal. small window to a garden of beauties, it is story of a young man who desires conquer the trust of his girl friend father. so, not the story is real important in this case. but the spell of images. the flavor of delicate and strong spices of a brave art maker.

This is an excellent movie as far as the artistic and aesthetic dimensions are concerned and I would recommend it to anyone with an interest in experiencing the beauty of the Caucasus, or beauty as such. I do not think that there is any need to stress Parajanov's unique depiction of this beauty, after all he is acknowledged (deservedly) as one of the greatest directors of the 20th century. I am not quite sure, however, whether 'Western' audiences will be overwhelmed by Ashik Kerib (by the way 'Ashik' means 'lover', or more accurately, a person who is in love - Kerib corresponds to Turkish 'Garip'= the unfortunate). I showed it to some German friends of mine but they did not seem to be touched by it at all. 'Some' ethnological interest, if not knowledge (and passion) are indispensable. There is only one thing about Parajanov himself which I found irritating. In the documentary which is included in the Rusico edition, Parajanov himself claims to have pursued an ethnological approach in his films - as opposed to the Socialist Realism of his time which he despised so much. But how come that Parajanov says that KURDS are no Muslims when the majority of 90% of Kurds ARE (Sunnite) Muslims when he himself underlines the ethnological aspects of his movies?? How come we have a religious guy who is seen semi-nude (in Islam the exposure of a man's upper part of the body likewise constitutes sin). I did not expect a 100% accuracy watching this movie, and I still prefer it to The Shadows of Our Forgotten Ancestors and even to Sayat Nova despite its so many flaws (esp. the clothes and customs of the people, surely due to the 'tight budget'). The beautiful language spoken in the film is, of course, NOT Georgian - it's Azeri.

it is not only a beautiful adaptation. another film by a great director. or Paradjanov song of swan. it is a testimony about past. about the grace of fairy tales, about Azer traditions , about the time as a flight, about choices, humor, courage, love, as parts of a single event. a film who remains a gem for the science to remember the flavor of a lost, mythical period. a film who impress. and describe. suggest. and remains touching again and again. a film about a rhythm to live. forgotten, ignored, hidden. subtle. strange. fascinating. and a form to imagine the life. mystical. pure. useful. one of films who could be a meeting with yourself.

Another odd, exotic fable from the Soviet Union's most enigmatic filmmaker, set this time in a storybook past where, to win the hand of his true love, a penniless minstrel is forced to wander for a thousand days in search of wisdom and enlightenment. Parajanov is one of the leading figures in his country's so-called 'poetic cinema movement', which means his films are crude, heavily stylized rites of passage, thick with symbols and anachronisms. The naive, almost primitive formality recalls both the ancient, ritual folklore of its Central Asian setting and the cheap conventions of early silent film melodrama, with the Georgian voice-over narration (added on top of Parajanov's post-dubbed Azerbaijani dialogue) giving the film an added level of weirdness. On his magical quest the lovelorn troubadour encounters a blind wedding party, a despotic sultan with a toy machine gun toting harem, a pantomime tiger, and survives various other trials and tribulations, all to a nerve-racking background of wailing Middle Eastern music.

Sergei Parajanov's final completed film is based on Mikhail Lermontov's short story about a poor minstrel who must travel for 1,000 days before he is allowed to marry the daughter of the local ruler. Like Parajanov's earlier "Color of Pomegranates", "Ashik Kerib" (which Parajanov dedicated to his friend Andrei Tarkovsky) makes ample use of the visuals and goes long periods without speech. Basically, it tests your attention span; a far cry from Michael Bay's movies.

I wouldn't go so far as to call this movie a masterpiece, but I like that it shows us a culture that we don't often get to see. The culture in this case is Azerbaijan. Parajanov had focused on Armenia with "The Color of Pomegranates", and Ukraine and Georgia with other movies. His refusal to incorporate socialist realism into his works caused friction with the Soviet authorities (as did his bisexuality).

In the end I recommend "Ashik Kerib". I wonder where Parajanov's career would've gone had he lived longer.