Country: Armenia/Azerbaijan/Georgia
Director: Sergei Parajanov
Time: 1 hour and 18 minutes
What it Evokes: Weighty pasts, miniature painting, and visual poetry
Where Can I Get It: Criterion (free w/subscription) and Amazon ($3.99 to rent)
Few films offer the elusive and allusive richness of imagery found in Sergei Parajanov’s The Color of Pomegranates, a “film-poem” exploring Transcaucasian (i.e. Georgia, Armenia, Azerbaijan) history through the life of 18th-century troubadour Sayat-Nova. Told through expressionistic coloration and visually stunning stationary frontal camera shots, evocative of Persian miniature painting, this rich tableaux of fecund and stirring images—to name but a few: a young boy drying out manuscripts on the roof of a monastery after they have been soaked by rain; a stream of mother-of-pearl poured over a kamancheh (or bowed string instrument)—offers a visual meditation on Transcaucasian art and history (and its various influences, in particular Turkic and Persian) channeled through the trials and tribulations of one of the region’s greatest poets. On its surface, the film may seem designed for the initiate, rewarding only regional specialists and Parajanov experts, yet by approaching (and embracing) the different scenes as assemblages rich not only in symbolism, but in sheer beauty, the film rewards viewing in spite of its occasional impenetrability.
For at its broadest, The Color of Pomegranates remains a film about faith and desire (various allusions to sexual desire and impossible love abound, alongside Sayat-Nova’s complex relationship with the Armenian Church). Stylistically, the film’s interest in material culture (and artistic forms of the past) seen through highly constructed camera shots allows the film to eschew “verisimilitude”—itself, a troubling concept though one with a long and influential lineage, particularly amongst directors interested in making contemporaneous social statements. By contrast, Parajanov’s optic constructions (consciously referencing prior artistic forms) underline film itself as a highly mediated form, while at the same time placing it firmly within a specific historical tradition. Further, the actress Sofiko Chiaureli, encompassing both male and female roles throughout the film, inspires a reading of the movie along gender lines. This particular form of fluidity is perhaps linked to Parajanov’s own homosexuality—an unfavorable status which caused him serious problems during his career in the Soviet Union. In the end, a film this visually fecund offers endless paths for interpretation. Indeed, one might argue this remains the central pleasure of viewing the film. Criterion offers a useful visual essay DECODING The Color of Pomegranates on which I relied, yet this should not dissuade readers from entering (without prior knowledge) the sheer optical luxuriance on offer.
Go Down the Rabbit Hole With:
Sergei Parajanov — Shadows of Forgotten Ancestors (1965)
Sergei Parajanov — Ashik Kerab (1988)