1922

1922 is based on the highly acclaimed book of Ilias Venezis, "The number 31328". The book of course is much more touching and heart-breaking and maybe more complete, nevertheless I think the movie succeeds in passing the general feeling of the Minor Asia disaster with a unique way. The directing is stupendous, so real that you feel like you're standing nearby and watching... The acting and costumes great as well. A warning though: if you have too sensitive a stomach, I'd suggest you watch something else. Not because is a violent film, but because it's so real.

If anyone knows about Smyrna they know the scale of the genocide and the complexity behind it all. This film is very pseudo-artistic not capturing the essence of the time and sadly its very awkward to watch almsot comical. Turks and French fighting in silence? Close ups of a beautiful woman...nothing really said about anything, just a pretentious film reflecting more the directors' personal taste than a true representation of the events - shame of the title, it gives you nothing. Read Giles Milton Paradise Lost to learn what really happened and hopefully someone make Smyrna the TV series it deserves to be and the heroism of the people involved.

One of the most intense and depressing movies ever made. It rivals "The Deerhunter" in that regard. The growing feeling of hopelessness as the Greek captives embark on their last journey produced cries from the audience toward the end of film.

"1922" focuses on one episode of the treatment of mostly civilian Greeks captured by the forces of Kemal Ataturk; this is an emblematic event--a characteristic phase-- of the larger process, of the expulsion and genocide of the Christians of Anatolia (present day "Turkey").

The film has a painterly quality, not least because Koundouros is an artist and painter. And much like the scene in a painting, the reality this film reflects is that of the methodology used by the Kemalists to defile, humiliate and destroy-- in short to carry out the genocide of-- the Christian people of Anatolia. The murders and rapes depicted, under the scorching sun, were events not hidden, open for the world to see, yet few chose to take note of how 4-4.5 million (yes million, out of a total population of 11-12 million) Christians (Armenians, Greeks, Assyrians) in Anatolia in 1912, were reduced to less than 300,000 by 1923.

The denial of this genocide begins with the victims themselves. For years the "Catastrophe", as the Greeks called it, was discussed little, and depicted less. This film was banned from being shown in Greece for many years, for reasons that still bear investigation: it no doubt included the elements of cowardice, denial and the perceived imperative not to offend the perpetrators (sic!) in the guise of the successor Kemalist regimes in Anatolia.

Koundouros's "1922" is a profound and a psychologically very jarring work, and the feelings, questions and issues it generates still have not been faced, especially by the ruling elites of Greece itself (many of whom have taken to denial explicitly so as not to disrupt relations with the present Islamofascist "Turkish" regime).

This is the only known film about the summer of 1922 - the last act of the Greek Genocide (one of the three genocides committed by Turkey, the other two being the Armenian and the Assyrian). Such theme is impossible of course to be covered by one film - anyway Koundouros' style is elliptical and always requires a trained eye. One can see in the film only few of the atrocities committed and the culpability of the European nations who were bystanders at that time.