Thursday, November 10, 2011

Stimulating cinema: Otar Iosseliani FilmFest Day 3

Film: Pastoral
Year: 1976

Last, but certainly not least, in Iosseliani fest is "Pastoral." In the commentary that accompanies the two-disc set of the director's work that was the source of this fest, one of his mentors (I believe) says that this movie was Iosseliani's farewell to his Georgian homeland. A few years, the director emigrated to France, where I would guess he still lives. What a treat it would be to talk to this man now--to get his insights into these remarkable works and to hear his thoughts on what has transpired both in the world of cinema and in the world in general since this movie was made. Does anyone know of any recent English-translated interviews he has done in recent years that might be found online somewhere?

If this movie was Iosseliani's farewell, he went out with a blaze of glory. The ending of this movie, in particular, is one of the most poignant, human moments you'll ever see on the screen. When watching it I thought to myself "this is about as good as it gets." The quality of this movie (and the other three I've discussed) is uniformly high and filled with liberal doses of humanity, spirit and warmth.

The movie begins with a group of classical musicians being sent to a rural village for the summer. The reason for this, at least as far as I could tell, wasn't really clear. But, just accept it--they're there. The sophisticated artsy folks from the city (one of whom is played by Iosseliani favorite Marina Kartsivadze) are plopped into the middle of an alien world. And of course, the feeling is mutual--the unpretentious, hard-working country folk don't quite know what to make of their unexpected visitors, but extend them plenty of warmth and courtesy and try to help them feel right at home. The contrasts are striking--the only thing these people have in common is that they are all Georgian. They're way of lives, though, are complete polar opposites. I think it's fascinating to think that even today (I'm thinking of a place like Brazil but I am sure there are many, many others), there could be such disparity between the lives of all the citizens. Here in the United States, there are differences between north and south, city and country, etc. but the gaps aren't that huge and there is frequently a common ground. For the characters in this movie, though, it's really like two different worlds coming together.

The musicians go through their day, warily keeping an eye on their surroundings while rehearsing. The villagers go on about their business too, farming and raising their animals with the wafting music as a constant accompaniment to their chores. In one of the best scenes, the musicians start playing for the first time and everyone in the village, young and old, is captivated by the sounds. Slowly, the two groups begin to find common ground--and Iosseliani shows this brilliantly. It's the little things--helping take in laundry before a storm arrives for example or recording a brother and sister singing traditional songs--that help bring the groups closer together. Helping to bridge the two worlds is Edouki, a teenage girl played by Nana Iosseliani (who I would have to assume is the director's daughter). Edouki is a hard-working girl, devoted to her younger brother and sister. But the arrival of the musicians (and a crush on one of them) fires in her imagination the possibility of a better life. Eventually, the musicians have to leave--goodbyes are said and promises are made. And then the scene I described earlier which I won't reveal, but which is truly magical.

Iosseliani's works are often described as "lyrical" and this might be his most lyrical work. In the literal sense, there is always music in the background and it underscores the emotions and actions of the characters. But also lyrical in the poetic sense of expressing personal feelings--it's never hard to know where these characters stand or what they are feeling. Everything, warts and all, is right there on the surface.

There are so many things that made me smile when watching this movie. Small gestures really say a lot--like when the musicians first arrive, one of them carelessly tosses and empty pop bottle on the ground. Shortly thereafter, we see an old man--his back bent almost perpendicular to the ground under the weight of a heavy load--stop and pick up the bottle before continuing on his way. Another moment comes when a pick-up truck carrying a group of peasants on their way to pick a crop is forced to stop at a railroad crossing. The passengers on the train gaze at them as if they were aliens, and the peasants return their gaze in similar fashion. Two worlds in conflict--and I think this scenes best illustrates where Iosseliani stood. There is also a sly tribute to his earlier film "Lived Once a Song Thrush" and lots of moments of high comedy. I'll come back to Iosseliani's movies again and again and I'm sure I'll always feel slightly uplifted after watching them. They do make you feel better about yourself and the world in general somehow.

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