Beautiful Helen (2022) Poster

User Reviews

Review this title
2 Reviews
Sort by:
Filter by Rating:
10/10
"People need each other occasionally"; an audience is needed all the time?
insightflow-2060321 March 2023
During Sofia Film Festival, I've found particularly useful the meeting with directors after a screening. On this occasion, Ovashvili was quick to inform the audience that he's a Scorpio and he isn't one for talking; furthermore, he needs to die in order to be reborn, hence the film. His previous films had been essentially devoid of dialogue, but for this one he needed to come out of a crisis. When asked if it helped, said, "no, it made me even angrier".

The film follows a director/scriptwriter "living in his own world" who's plagued by an inability to communicate, at the same time longing for a relationship and "love", and intent to commit suicide should it be an illusion. His wife is irate at the situation and wants to "just be left alone". There's a hint the director had previously employed an assistant with whom he's had an affair.

The film begins with a girl, Helen, who's returning from America to find something home, something which she cannot articulate and denies an idea of motherland. She is no beauty in a conventional way, and she resists a universal notion of love, instead being rational, making various interesting points throughout, embodying the very idea of dialogue and philosophy ("life is philosophy or the other way round, I'm not sure"). It is through her chance encounter that the Artist hopes to find meaning, so he takes her on as his next assistant, much to the frustration of the wife.

In a way, this is a "road" film, with the duo looking for "locations". On a crucial stop they meet a ghoulish figure talking of a ghost, both sharing names with our heroine and the hero, who's looking "not for a canyon but a bridge, although I also want to see the canyons". "Sometimes the building stones are more interesting than the wall": in this soul-excavation, he faces himself in a challenge to his sanity. A mirror scene depicts near-lunacy, while a mirror of Helen had previously conveyed her romantic grief and sadness, contrary to her usual poise. She is as impenetrable to the protagonist (Gabriel/Gabo) as he is to his wife; denying even being construed as an enigma and an object of affection, as we witness in a scene with an interested young male. And learn through her story iof having abandoned a previous one, "although he was in love with me and I also loved him in my own way". Helen is alluring in being unavailable. Gabo suggests that love is when two people need to be together, while Helen says that people need each other occasionally, and by far not all the time.

In a way they're both "Scorpio": one the eternal sceptic, and the other the angry romantic in search of relationship/love which he at the same time resists, preferring self-sabotage. Ultimately "Beautiful Helen" is the imaginary ideal he uses to escape the wife who truly loves him; the abandoned wife unleashes on unsuspected Helen who's lured Gabo by being a distant blank canvas for his self-projection. He'll let her go, as well; and when asked "what will become of Helen", replies that she'll take on her own route.

"I got confused, the audience will too.", Helen says in this picture which ostensibly mystifies. Perhaps this esoteric director has fancied the Upanishads, "we are like the dreamer who weaves his dream and then lives inside it; we are the Creator who makes the creation and then enters it". I suggested to him that "there is no Other" (Advaita Vedanta), but he sort of ironised me, asking "is that a question", and ending the meeting by saying that he cannot fathom what ever questions an audience could ask about his film.
1 out of 1 found this helpful. Was this review helpful? Sign in to vote.
Permalink
10/10
Contemplative, dialectical, enthralling spiral
dichav20 April 2023
This film is admittedly its author's self-reflection: he has intimated he went through a personal crisis and needed things out of his system, hence creating his first dialogue-based film. It was interesting to read he's still uncertain about the result, having been hesitant to share it with the public. This of course attests to an utmost creative sincerity. Furthermore, he says the process didn't relieve the anxiety: the stuff of art with catharsis always in sight... or in secret.

In a hypothetical second installment, the storyteller coiuld even be Tamar - the "fatale" female antagonist who seems to frighten the protagonist Gabo, so much so that he invents this "Beautiful Helen" to escapes with in a story within stories. In one of these interwoven stories a Helen is Gabo's wife, Tamar being his wife in "reality". Gabo has mysteriously taken his own life, despite the fact he and Helen had an "ideal love". Towards the end of the film Tamar accuses Helen of having killed Gabo, whom she "did not deserve".

This all may manifest Gabo's romantic need to be loved in a way no lesser than giving life meaning, despite Helen's logical attempts to dissuade him: a love he doesn't feel he deserves, both creating an escapist "ideal", and the ideal being flawed (not a common perception of beauty). He can neither perfectly idealise, nor can he face the subconscious passion that binds him with the strikingly attractive-repelling Tamar, mirrored in Gabo's self-combat.

Does an ideal exist? Does Eros which leads the hero on a pathless journey fail or succeed? Is ideal love realised in death, or does Helen's imperfection refer back to life with its insufferable emotional content? Is Tamar the overwleming force of life on course to deconstruct Helen's eschatology, telling her to "just shut up" in a relentless monologue? Is this the voice of Gabo on whose behalf she speaks? Does he "escape" in self-rejuvenation by letting Helen the heroine go, while the final meta-narrative leaves him face-to-face with a "real" Helen who asks, "What about us"? The viewer is served an irresistable invitation of self-interpretation.

In the Georgian classic Repentance an old woman asked, "What good is a road if it doesn't lead to the temple?" In Beautiful Helen, the temple is a tree.

The filmmaker: "In "Beautiful Helen" the questions went really deep. (...) But if I have to point to a moment which I like more in my film, it's probably that one part without words - the scene next to the tree, basically the scene without dialogue."

The Poet is always ambiguous: "I'll be waiting here... for your silence to break, for your soul to shake, for your love to wake!" "You dance inside my chest where no-one sees you - but sometimes I do, and that sight becomes this art." Rumi "A man once asked Rumi, 'Why is it you talk so much about silence?' His answer: 'The radiant one inside me has never said a word.'"
0 out of 0 found this helpful. Was this review helpful? Sign in to vote.
Permalink

See also

Awards | FAQ | User Ratings | External Reviews | Metacritic Reviews


Recently Viewed