Ashug-Karibi

Another odd, exotic fable from the Soviet Union's most enigmatic filmmaker, set this time in a storybook past where, to win the hand of his true love, a penniless minstrel is forced to wander for a thousand days in search of wisdom and enlightenment. Parajanov is one of the leading figures in his country's so-called 'poetic cinema movement', which means his films are crude, heavily stylized rites of passage, thick with symbols and anachronisms. The naive, almost primitive formality recalls both the ancient, ritual folklore of its Central Asian setting and the cheap conventions of early silent film melodrama, with the Georgian voice-over narration (added on top of Parajanov's post-dubbed Azerbaijani dialogue) giving the film an added level of weirdness. On his magical quest the lovelorn troubadour encounters a blind wedding party, a despotic sultan with a toy machine gun toting harem, a pantomime tiger, and survives various other trials and tribulations, all to a nerve-racking background of wailing Middle Eastern music.

it is not only a beautiful adaptation. another film by a great director. or Paradjanov song of swan. it is a testimony about past. about the grace of fairy tales, about Azer traditions , about the time as a flight, about choices, humor, courage, love, as parts of a single event. a film who remains a gem for the science to remember the flavor of a lost, mythical period. a film who impress. and describe. suggest. and remains touching again and again. a film about a rhythm to live. forgotten, ignored, hidden. subtle. strange. fascinating. and a form to imagine the life. mystical. pure. useful. one of films who could be a meeting with yourself.

(1988) Ashug-Karib/ The Lovelorn Minstrel (In Azerbaijani, Georgian and Russian with English subtitles) HISTORICAL FABLE

Adapted from the short story "Ashik Kerib the Lovelorn Minstrel" by Mikhail Lermontov. Known as the final film by renown director Sergei Parajanov, starring Yuri Mgoyan as the title character, Ashug-Karibi a talented poet and minstrel lute player falls in love with the merchant's daughter, Magul-Megeri . Except that because he is poor, Ashik Kerib then asks her to wait for him after 1001 nights. And it is not long before his rival Kushud-Bek fools Ashik Kerib by pretending to be his friend only to stealing his clothes, and then bring them back to show them to his mother and others to make the assumption that he may have drowned. The movie plays like a folklore or as a fable as the talented minstrel player, uses his gift to lift others.

This is Sergei Paradjanov's last film. He died after it's completion.

Ashik Kerib is based on a the poem by Mikhail Lermontov which he wrote while in exile in the Caucasus. It blends many cultures; Armenian, Georgian, Moslem, and Orthodox iconography.

Paradjanov meant the film for children, there is no dense, intellectual symbolism in it. There is also no dialogue. It was his ideal to create a visual myth. The film is incredibly beautiful, truly an experience.

One thing to note is how he makes two-dimensional icons come to life in the film. If there is a man that "paints" on celluloid, it is Paradjanov.

This is an excellent movie as far as the artistic and aesthetic dimensions are concerned and I would recommend it to anyone with an interest in experiencing the beauty of the Caucasus, or beauty as such. I do not think that there is any need to stress Parajanov's unique depiction of this beauty, after all he is acknowledged (deservedly) as one of the greatest directors of the 20th century. I am not quite sure, however, whether 'Western' audiences will be overwhelmed by Ashik Kerib (by the way 'Ashik' means 'lover', or more accurately, a person who is in love - Kerib corresponds to Turkish 'Garip'= the unfortunate). I showed it to some German friends of mine but they did not seem to be touched by it at all. 'Some' ethnological interest, if not knowledge (and passion) are indispensable. There is only one thing about Parajanov himself which I found irritating. In the documentary which is included in the Rusico edition, Parajanov himself claims to have pursued an ethnological approach in his films - as opposed to the Socialist Realism of his time which he despised so much. But how come that Parajanov says that KURDS are no Muslims when the majority of 90% of Kurds ARE (Sunnite) Muslims when he himself underlines the ethnological aspects of his movies?? How come we have a religious guy who is seen semi-nude (in Islam the exposure of a man's upper part of the body likewise constitutes sin). I did not expect a 100% accuracy watching this movie, and I still prefer it to The Shadows of Our Forgotten Ancestors and even to Sayat Nova despite its so many flaws (esp. the clothes and customs of the people, surely due to the 'tight budget'). The beautiful language spoken in the film is, of course, NOT Georgian - it's Azeri.