Simindis kundzuli

I actually stumbled upon this film by accident. In my search for all things horror, I came across "Corn Island" somewhere. Maybe there is another "Corn Island" movie lurking about, but this definitely wasn't it. About 15 or 20 minutes in, when I realized that this wasn't horror, I kept it playing anyway because it did seem interesting.

Really, it was almost a silent feature as the characters didn't speak much. What intrigued me was the Georgian setting, the picturesque cinematography, the backdrop of war, and the whole idea about planting corn on an island year after year. Acting all around was good, too.

When I was younger I spent a lot of time watching foreign language dramas from France, Russia, Turkey, Japan, Belgium, Germany, the Netherlands and other places. I think it's time to give films from Georgia my full attention, too, since they seem to rate so high right here on IMDb.

Every year the Enguri River drops to reveal small fertile islands. Because the river marks the natural border that separates Georgia from Abkhazia, these islands are unclaimed territory. Peasants come every year to live on them during the growing season, attempting to harvest enough corn to survive the winter. Two problems face them; the fact that the two nations have been in some form of conflict since the 90's and the rising waters of the Enguri.

Clearly influenced by the likes of Dreyer and Bela Tarr, Director George Ovashvili's slow-burning, minimalist thriller takes place entirely on and around one of these tiny islands. We follow an old man, referred to only as Grandpa, and his grand-daughter as they methodically bring supplies to the island and construct a small shack. They will have to live on this island in order to tend to and protect their little patch of corn.

The film is low on plot and with nearly no dialogue and yet the sweeping cinematography gives the film an epic tone. This island means everything and nothing. The river creates and the river destroys. The island is a microcosm of man against nature, of the political instability of the region and of life itself. The amount Corn Island is able to achieve with so little is commendable.

A grand achievement, Corn Island hints at a bright future for Georgian cinema and puts George Ovashvili on the radar as a director to watch.

One of the main goals of art film is to depict life in its most pure, elemental state. Yet few art movies have managed to achieve that goal with as much grace and poetic depth as George Ovashivili's Corn Island. This immaculately composed film takes the viewers on a soul-touching journey into the desolate, breathtakingly beautiful wilderness of a small island in Georgia and perfectly captures the rhythm of nature and the relation between nature and the two main characters whose daily struggles are interweaved into the light, sound and motion of nature around them. Throughout the film, the viewer can't help but feel the life-like, natural quality of every picture and scene. There are no excessive details; everything is distilled into its most natural state. The image of the old man's granddaughter sitting on the boat with a bundle of shining reed under the crisp sunlight is a precise portrait of life itself. In essence, art has blended into life, and life into art. What is more remarkable is that the director has managed to convey this profound state of life without the help of dialogue. Perhaps one could argue that it is precisely the lack of dialogue that has made this film that much more powerful and moving. A scene in the beginning where the old man fondly looks at a little bird pecking at the wood conveys a sense of elegance that no language can easily convey. Even the intermittent gunshots we hear in the background and the discovery of a wounded soldier that temporarily disrupts the tranquility of the island do not lead the film to deviate from its original artistic path. On the contrary, the tension lurking in the background elevates the humanistic aspect of the film to a new height. In the end, every human gesture and activity is dissolved into the larger nature. What we are left with is a film that touches the depth of our soul with such simplicity and gracefulness that very few films can match.

As a review, I wouldn't go much into detail since the movie itself is minimal in most of the sense but if you are nature loving slow paced artistic movie fan, You will surely love this movie.

Although movie present post-war conflict between two nations, there's hardly any dynamics in visually or audibly.Simple story narration, An old man and his grand daughter find themselves in a small island temporarily formed by river and cultivate corn.

Director portray entire procedure in growing a corn plants which might feel a bit slow but the breezy tone of the cinematography makes the movie intellectually engaging This is a thought provoking beautifully executed art piece.

About cinema it is said that sometimes images convey perfectly what words fail to express. When words are uttered they make sense only when they merely suit the situations for which they were spoken. This effect is shown in Georgian film "Corn Island" with utmost austerity as an old man and his young grand-daughter set foot on a small island in the middle of a river. Their sudden arrival sets off a climate of distrust in the minds of other people. This is the start of a difficult life for them as there are also others who would like to see them defeated in their mission. There are some films which develop at their own pace. It is likely that laymen would call them slow whereas true admirers of cinema would label them as poetic works of art. Corn Island is one such film which would immensely appeal anybody who appreciates cinema as a poetic art. One can see how the entire process of planting a seed until the final stages of agriculture is carried out. The origin of this poetic film can be traced back to a day in August 1992 when an Abkhazian person ordered Georgian director George Ovashvili to leave Abkhazian black sea coast. According to him the war had started.