Pirosmani (1969)

Pirosmani is a film that exists outside of time. Like the artist's paintings, the events on screen unfold in a flattened, hyper-saturated world where everything is at a slightly off angle. This is not a biopic in the traditional sense of the world. Those looking for a history class type look at the life of Nikoloi Pirosmani should look elsewhere, because this is not about Pirosmani the figure, but Pirosmani the man, or rather the soul of Pirosmani the man. Like Parajanov's Sayat Nova, Giorgi Shengelaya explores what it means to create, and to devote one's life to creation; to live in such a way that does not toady to the expectations and desires of others. Despite being a very dark and sombre film, Pirosmani is also a film of genuine and profound inspiration. It is also a film about belonging, belonging to one's country, to one's people, to one's home. There is also a political message here, or rather a personal political message; the Caucasus are a land of majestic beauty, but centuries of foreign domination and ethnic strife have bloodied the land, and the people live in a kind of perpetual melancholy. My great-grandfather fled Armenia from the Turks, and though he never returned to his motherland, he never forgot it. Pirosmani was made when Georgia was still a part of the Soviet Union, and on some level it is a paean of love to Shengelaya and Pirosmani's homeland, and a song of longing for the return of independence. But it is also about not belonging, being an outsider, a rebel. An enigma that says exactly what it means.