QUICK AND DIRTY: LIVE FROM TALLINN
Apparently tipping its hat to Andrey Zvyagintsev’s masterful The Return (2004), George Ovashvili’s fifth feature film tells the story of a father attempting to forge a bond with his son whom he barely met by taking him on a weekend trip. The biggest difference in the premise of the Russian film is that it contained two sons instead of just one.
The year is 1991 and the season in winter. Georgia is a newly independent nation. Twelve-year-old Toma (Giorgi Gigauri) isn’t particularly impressed by the recent developments, and regrets that his mother has moved to Moscow (which is now in a different country, he notes). He lives with his grandma in the in a sparsely populated community up on the mountains, and he’s grappling with other problems of his own (he’s in love with with his classmate Anana, and he gets bullied for that). His trigger-happy father Nemo (Givi Chuguashvili) finished serving a long prison sentence for a crime revealed much later in the story. He wishes to take his son on a hunting trip over the weekend, under the promise that he will return home in time for school on Monday. While not particularly enthusiastic about spending time with a man he barely knows (he never calls him “dad” but simply “Nemo” instead), he agrees to the unexpected journey.
The topic of national identity is presented in parallel to the topic of parental abandonment. That the mother left in order to go to Russia is no coincidence. The personification of Russia has almost always been feminine (and most commonly maternal) since the Middle Ages. Russia is the motherland, while Georgia is the fatherland. Tamo’s relationship to Nemo is precarious, virtually non-existent, much like the relationship Georgians have forged with their newfound independence. But he’s prepared to change that. Perhaps he’s ready to fight for the man he didn’t recognise until recently.
The photography of derelict Georgia – with crumbling building and cars, with the country just walking out of decades of Soviet oppression – is extremely beautiful. The images of the forest where Nemo takes Toma (and which has a vital connection to his past) is genuinely exuberant. The winter sun highlights the exquisite green of the vegetation and the curiosity-filled gaze of a large stag (or two) complete with antlers. The snow covered mountains may not offer shelter, however they offer ample opportunity for contemplation.
This technically accomplished film is not without flaws. A significant amount of acting is stilted (in particular some of the children). The contrived one-liners are delivered without passion. At times, this international co-production of six countries seems overworked. There is a discernible emphasis on formula ahead of spontaneity. And there is a disconnect between theme and the film aesthetic. Greek cinematographer Christos Karamanis instills the story with an aura of fantasy (the titular moon appears in all sizes and shapes, and at very strange places), and even a gentle touch of horror (particularly in the final third of the film, when an surprising event changes the destiny of both protagonists). This feels a little strange a movie about parental estrangement and national identity. Anana appears in two extremely clumsy dream sequences, which serve only to mar the narrative with unwarranted cuteness and didacticism. That the film title is a line in the movie itself is symptomatic of excessive descriptiveness
The Moon is a Father of Mine just premiered in the Official Competition of the 29th Tallinn Black Nights Film Festival.
