El color de la granada

A beautiful, moving, lyrical movie. This allegorical tale is visually stunning and at times terrifying. Each scene is like a painting and the colors and costumes alone are worth the viewing. The movie may be abstract but the payoff for anyone with a decent attention span is wonderful. The soundtrack is equally gorgeous, and the movie is utterly captivating.

How do you go from rich cinematic intuition to stifled ceremonial posing? I don't get it. Shadows of Forgotten Ancestors is one of the most enthralling films I have seen, it's just an endlessly spinning dance between the camera and a mystical world of song and suffering, spun and diffused into air. It rested on a profound realization that life is both real and has the mechanism of dreams.

It was a multifaceted world of many allusions but all of it was deftly integrated into the experience, you didn't need separate keys. This on the other hand is a notoriously difficult work, for a simple reason; you need a bunch of keys, and most of those are outside the film (it suffered at the hands of Soviet censors, no doubt, my guess however is that Parajanov's authorial version would operate on the same principles).

It is everything that grates at me as outmoded and needless obfuscation in cinematic narrative. Allegory. Symbolism (the nagging notion that the pomegranates ought to 'stand for something'). Cryptic dealings.

Instead of opening up our gaze to a world, it reduces to a set of paintings, supposedly that you have to decode. It is very much a presentation of cultural history, but at the expense of all the distinctly cinematic advantages of the medium.

This mode survives in a way in Peter Greenaway. But Greenaway works from Hamlet as his main reference, so all you need to know about the play is usually inside the play-within. This has no framework. It isn't the stuff that life is made from - it's only the stuff that art is.

Unlike most modern films, Color of Pomegranates does not abandon the subtle, pensive quality of silent film; it is actually a stunning evolution of silent film.

Here Parajanov documents an almost mythical culture lost long ago to history. I believe it is ancient Armenia. It is methodically presented as a slow series of visual artifacts. Each artifact is a complete scene composed foremost of an authentic visual setting, to which is added the hypnotic effect of some simple motion and ambient sounds, the source of which are often not even in view. Together these hypnotic scenes slowly mesmerize and transport the viewer to the mood and feel of a lost culture.

Besides scenes of ordinary ancient existence, which are amazing enough to see, compelling rituals are presented and left as purely mysterious, earthy, and spiritual, which the viewer can only struggle to explain.

The film is also a treasure of authentic clothing and costumes you may otherwise never see.

Color of Pomegranates serves as a surprising unspoken testament to this lost, ancient culture.

I rented this as a movie on DVD, which thankfully seems easy to find in the USA. I highly recommend the DVD, as it also offered a commented version by Parajanov himself, and an incredible interview with Parajanov, before he sadly passed away, in which he describes some of his amazing, tragic life and his epic struggles to create and release his work, most of which, including Color of Pomegranates, was banned or censored in the former Soviet Union. His years WASTED in damn Soviet prison are a true black mark on humanity, and one can only wonder what other fantastic work he might have created had he been free. His own story appears to be worthy of one of his many great films, as it is biblically tragic yet unquestioningly triumphant.

The Color of Pomegranates (made in 1968, and also released under the name Sayat Nova) is not really a conventional movie. It is more like a series of tableaux "inspired" by 18th century Armenian poet Nova. It is nonetheless fascinating, and should be required viewing for anybody interested not only in Armenian culture but in cinema in general (or, if you wish, the visual arts). This movie has inspired many artists, including some music videos (admittedly not among the arts' highest form), including REM's "Losing my Religion" and Deep Forest's "Sweet Lullaby. There is a heavy homo erotic subtext to many of the tableaux, and as a matter of fact, Paradjanov would later spent several years in jail in the Soviet Union accused, among other things, of homosexuality. Though released under international pressure, it would take him another 16 years to make another movie, shortly before his untimely death in 1990.

One of the great films in all cinema, virtually incomprehensible to anyone not familiar with Armenian or Georgian history and culture. Whatever the dubious politics in enjoying a subversive political work as an aesthetic spectacle, there is much to astonish. The nominal story concerns an 18th century Armenian poet/national hero/martyr, but Paradjanov rejects biographical narrative in favour of a montage stream of religious, political, cultural, sexual imagery, composition and allegory unparalelled in the history of the medium, although fans of Von Sternberg will not be bemused.