An epic depicting nature's force majeure, this film may ostensibly be placed with masterpieces of Central-Asian cinema dwelling on the mythical (Shynyraw/ Deep Well is one that comes to mind). However, this is a film about man's failure to hold up the sky or the roof of the microcosm he has aimed to claim; equally, no man can protect against the conflicts and the aspirations of the unconscious masculine. Mankind is swept and buried in the water stream - the feminine par excellence - and it is the water which fertilises the secondary female element, the earth. With tension and threat throughout the film which fades to black-and-white bleakness, a girl on the verge of womanhood may be the cosmic Saviour. This is the girl's initiation, her blood gently splattering the screen, a cause for anguished tears, but also the thin red line on which it all hangs. Libido is not played down: she is in no fear of playing on it in the face of danger. After all, she is that "water, water everywhere" which buds the fruit she'll sail away with; man could try and claim the earth, but not the water. This Red Riding Hood doesn't need the Hunter in her neverending story, nor is she corrupted by the Wolf. What remains after her is the imperishable childhood, evoking gentleness in the man-of-war, the fisherman and the hunter. The Fish will irrevocably escape, the impending loom reserved for man-made structures and boundaries.
"The Fish doesn't think, the Fish knows everything", hence no need to speak. And yet in Ovashvili's subsequent film, Beautiful Helen, the female character is the chattery voice of reason, wrapped in the writer-filmmaker's story within stories. The feminine begins to calmly speak to fire, to masculine "demons". Only through her can he obtain his life, and in a story he kills himself to let her go, having been held by a devouring female archetype; the vamp remains in the story, while Beautiful Helen is free to write her own script, whether fictional or "real". Beauty - in no way conventional, but highly individual - is once again liberated.
I anticipate the new outcomes of this richly imaginative director and his fellow screenwriter(s). The subversion of the masculine and feminine I'm sensing may be manifest in his current project's title, The Moon is a Father of Mine.
Having himself referred to a zodiac symbol, I take the liberty to cite a famous astrologer and poet: "The thistle is dangerous, yet it grows entwined with the heavy, languid beauty of the honeysuckle. Have you ever inhaled that sweet, overwhelming fragrance on a still midsummer's night? Then you will know why there are those who brave the thistles to seek the tenderness of Scorpio - exquisite tenderness. His explosive passion has the rich, dark red wine colour of the bloodstone. But Scorpio steel is tempered in a furnace of unbearable heat until it emerges cool, satiny smooth - and strong enough to control the nine spiritual fires of Scorpio's wisdom."
"The Fish doesn't think, the Fish knows everything", hence no need to speak. And yet in Ovashvili's subsequent film, Beautiful Helen, the female character is the chattery voice of reason, wrapped in the writer-filmmaker's story within stories. The feminine begins to calmly speak to fire, to masculine "demons". Only through her can he obtain his life, and in a story he kills himself to let her go, having been held by a devouring female archetype; the vamp remains in the story, while Beautiful Helen is free to write her own script, whether fictional or "real". Beauty - in no way conventional, but highly individual - is once again liberated.
I anticipate the new outcomes of this richly imaginative director and his fellow screenwriter(s). The subversion of the masculine and feminine I'm sensing may be manifest in his current project's title, The Moon is a Father of Mine.
Having himself referred to a zodiac symbol, I take the liberty to cite a famous astrologer and poet: "The thistle is dangerous, yet it grows entwined with the heavy, languid beauty of the honeysuckle. Have you ever inhaled that sweet, overwhelming fragrance on a still midsummer's night? Then you will know why there are those who brave the thistles to seek the tenderness of Scorpio - exquisite tenderness. His explosive passion has the rich, dark red wine colour of the bloodstone. But Scorpio steel is tempered in a furnace of unbearable heat until it emerges cool, satiny smooth - and strong enough to control the nine spiritual fires of Scorpio's wisdom."