Sergei Parajanov’s film The Color of Pomegranates has left me delightfully confused. I felt like I was in a trance, trying to follow a plot that didn’t entirely exist. The film is a biography of Armenian poet, Sayat Nova, however, it doesn’t follow the rules of what a biography should be. Or even what a film should be. It was long shots of objects, small epsiodes of the poet from boyhood till death, and texts of his poetry.
This isn’t something you watch with no prior knowledge of Armenian or Georgian history or if you’ve never heard of Sayat Nova. But if by chance you don’t know the historical context or who he is, you’re surely going to go looking for explanations. You’ll find out who Sayat Nova was and his importance to the Caucasus, the rebel and artist that Parajanov was, and how a film as unconventional as this one can spark a sense of pride and longing to a time and person so far away.
I am floored by this quote. Maybe I’m a little fool for tragic romance or maybe it’s the idea that these words came from an Armenian man so long ago and I just need to know what made him feel so wrecked about love. Or who…
Georgian actress, Sofiko Chiaureli played the poets muse. The actress was probably Parajanov’s muse as well, since he used her in his other films. She’s seen in multiple traditional Armenian garments weaving lace, or as a mime, or as an angel.
Her face reminds me of Anna Karina. I’m imagining the relationship between her and Parajanov as similar to Karina & Goddard. But this is speculation.
This is not an synopsis or review. This is just a first impression. It’s one of those movies that you must watch over and over again, research about and then think. I may write about it again when I know more about it. We’ll see.