Should the Wind Drop is a timely cinematic introduction to the disputed territory of Nagorno-Karabakh. It’s a country that has suffered genocide and unending land disputes, which recently flared up with neighboring Azerbaijan (the country most of the international community places it within).

We enter the country with Alain, an airport inspector traveling from France. He, like most of us, arrives without much knowledge of the country’s history. He’s here to inspect the regional airport which has been shut down since the outbreak of war in the 1990’s. If it passes all his tests, it can be officially opened and both establish the country’s existence globally, and open it up for it’s residents.

We follow Alain’s transformation from an auditor “just doing his job” to a sympathizer of the independence cause. During his time there he meets a good portion of the population and slowly opens up to their way of life. He grows to sympathize with the optimistic airport operator, the TV host, and his taxi driver shown in his more open conversation with them. His connection to Nagorno-Karabakh peaks with a jovial drinking session with the local soldiers. It’s the one time he seems to stray from the commitment to his job and truly mix with the locals. His transformation serves us (the audience), as like him, we have probably come to this movie with little prior knowledge of the country and people. Whilst it seems foreign at first, we, like him, end the film with a connection to the place and it’s characters through his experiences.

As a result of it’s significance to the locals, the airport has become a symbol of pride and hope. It has the potential to free them from their landlocked prison and regional disputes and become recognized internationally. It also literally fuels the village as one little boy walks by the airport every day to fill up his water bottles to sell in the village. Everyone in the town is seen drinking his ‘magic water’. It symbolizes their faith in the airport and the modern world it will bring.

As a symbol of recognition, the movie itself is just like the airport. In being made and celebrated at international film festivals, it puts Nagorno-Karabakh on the map, finishing what the airport started.


Head to our AFI Fest Hub for more reviews and short films from AFI Fest 2020.

Beginning

Beginning Film Difficulty Ranking: 3

If you’re looking for a provocative transcendental film that captures a mother’s existential crisis you’ve come to the right place. Beginning uses slow pacing and a classic film look to shock Yana’s humble existence within a Jehovah’s Witness community in rural Georgia to the core. As her peace is shockingly disrupted, she’s forced to reevaluate her life as a mother as part of her remote community.

From: Georgia, Asia
Watch: Trailer, JustWatch, Mubi
Next: Fire Will Come, Loveless, Taming the Garden

Beginning – The Breakdown

Beginning follows Yana, a failed TV actress that has been ‘saved’ from the entertainment industry by her religious husband. She’s taken on some of the responsibilities that are expected of a mother in a Georgian Jehovah’s Witness community but always looks like an outsider within an outcast community. As religious extremists infringe on their world and corrupt, power hungry detectives stalk the group, Yana’s small bubble begins to collapse with shocking consequences.

The most noticeable feature of Beginning is the film’s look. It’s grounded in the foundations of transcendental film, using takes that linger longer than you expect. These long takes force you to watch minute of ‘dead time’ in which the character’s aren’t doing much. It’s also shot on 35mm at a 1:33 aspect ratio, which eschews width and the modern look of digital film for the narrower and grainier classic film. The character this adds to the film heightens the dramatic long takes by eliminating the distractions of a widescreen aspect ratio whilst giving the film a more epic, classical look. The long takes and film style both set up the shocking images that are scattered through the film (such as the church on fire). Within the context of the high amount of ‘dead time’ and narrower, grainier film, these images are even more of a surprise. They look more powerful, like a piece of classical art in an empty museum. Beginning practices serenity to make these few chaotic moments feel even more disruptive.

The film’s style mimics Yana’s inner self. Her life is mostly peaceful; working with the kids in the community and raising her son. This is emphasized in the many moments of peace on screen – such as a very long shot of her lying, eyes shut in the woods. However, these serene moments are punctuated by moments of chaos that cast doubt on her otherwise serene life, signifying her existential crisis. Despite her family ties, she appears more and more uncomfortable with her life as an outsider living within an outsider community. The uncertainty surrounding the terrorist attacks isolates the community even further from Georgian society whilst the suspicious detective isolates her even more from her family. She’s questioned by her husband and feels more distant from her son as he grows to resemble him. In her existential crisis, the chaotic moments, emphasized by the film’s style, offer her a twisted olive branch to free herself from both the community and her family.

What to Watch Next

If you’re looking for more brooding films that patiently unravel, check out Oliver Laxe’s Fire Will Come. It features the return of a notorious arsonist to his small hometown in Galicia where he is treated with scorn whilst he tries to adapt to his new life. You could also try Loveless by Andrey Zvyagintsev, a slow burn thriller that captures another mother uncertain about motherhood and her role within her family.

Or for more great films from Georgia, try Taming the Garden. It’s a slow paced documentary that highlights the wealth inequality in the country through a billionaires tree theft.