Hey folks, Harry here... Now this sounds like a fun weird charming as heck flick... Though we really don't get to see too many films raised in Russia these days... at least I don't get to. Shame really, some very strong filmmaking is going on over there.. it'd be a pity to have to 'rediscover' it in 20 years... Here's the Lovely Elaine telling us of one film we ought to be checking out...
LUNA PAPA (Russia, 1999)
This review is going to assume you don't mind a healthy dose of absurdity, or reading subtitles. If you do, you might as well stop reading right here - LUNA PAPA will not be for you. Should you, however, be into foreign-language films of the bizarre variety, try and catch this one by all means - you're in for a treat!
LUNA PAPA, which is doing the rounds in Europe right now and might be released in other parts of the world as well, was a hit at several 1999 festivals, and it's easy to see why; it's got a charm one rarely catches in American blockbusters. Furthermore, it boasts one of Europe's rising stars (Moritz Bleibtreu, whom you might know as RUN LOLA RUN's Manni), as well as a host of unknown but very talented actors from the former Soviet Union.
LUNA PAPA is set in a village on the border between Tadjikistan and Uzbekistan. In this village, on one of those weird full-moon nights, a virginal 17-year-old girl called Mamlakat allows herself to be taken by a travelling actor and gets pregnant. During their tryst, she never gets to see the actor's face, so she doesn't know whom to hold responsible for her pregnancy. To make matters worse, the theatre group to which the actor belongs leaves the village the next morning, so she doesn't get a chance to find out who her man is. This saddles Mamlakat with a serious problem. Out-of-wedlock pregnancy is frowned upon in her old-fashioned village society, and the perpetrator leads the life of an outcast. The rest of the film therefore focuses on the family's attempts to find the actor and make a decent woman of Mamlakat. In doing so, they go to quite ridiculous ends, driving hundreds of miles to Uzbeki theatres in order to kidnap actors who may or may not be responsible for Mamlakat's pregnancy, and otherwise getting into scrapes. And as if this weren't bizarre enough, the action is commented upon by Mamlakat's unborn baby, who proves to be quite philosophical at times.
If the above sounds corny, that's because it is. Yet I defy you to find a more charming film. Director Bakhtyar Khudojnazarov and script writer Irakli Kvirikadze (don't you just love Central Asian names?) have gone out of their way to compile a film about likeable oddballs to whom weird, VERY weird, things happen. The result is a feel-good film whose absurdity puts Terry Gilliam to shame. Throw in some gorgeous scenery and a look at three astonishing Uzbeki theatres (who says Soviet architecture is drab?) and you've got an impressive picture from an unlikely part of the world.
One of the film's strengths is the amalgamation of bizarre characters. Mamlakat (ably played by Chulpan Khamatova) is a perfect heroine. She has a touch of the theatrical (there's a reason why she falls for an actor...), but she's so sympathetic one instantly forgives her her tendency to be dramatic. One really roots for her when gets her first morning sickness (great scene, that) and is ignored by the rest of the village. Yet she's only one of many weird characters in the film. The most bizarre by far is her brother Nasreddin (Moritz Bleibtreu), a former soldier whom the Afghan war has reduced to a wreck. We learn at the beginning of the film that Nasreddin knows 33 words. Throughout the film, he uses all of them, and appears to learn a few new ones into the bargain. His favourite word is 'wicked,' and his function in the film is that of 'evil hunter.' Needless to say, he ends up being hunted himself.
Bizarre characters and props aside, the real absurdity is in the action, which is hilarious at times. Nasreddin and Mamlakat's father's attempts to kidnap actors are a hoot, as is the way Mamlakat ties her father to a chair before telling him she's pregnant. Says Dad, indulgently: "You've broken a tea cup, haven't you?" Furthermore, the film boasts an original shoot-out involving a raspberry lemonade hawker (don't ask), plus a handsome man demonstrating how to get out of a scrape by kicking a football (hey, there's a reason why soccer is the most popular sport in the world). Oh, and the way the pilot catches sheep while hanging from a plane ("that's five!") has to be seen to be believed.
The film has a certain fairy-tale quality to it that is enhanced by the ending, which is pure Hans Christian Andersen. Before it gets there, however, there are several false endings, the most saccharine of which ends in the most unimaginable way imaginable. While one's wiping away one's tears of laughter, it transpires that Mamlakat may not live quite so happily ever after. Then, of course, her luck turns again; she finds a happiness of sorts, and it's all (wouldn't you know it?) because of her retarded brother...
As I said before, this film is only for people who appreciate a certain amount of absurdity and slapstick. If you're one of those, you'll love this film to pieces. If you're not, you'd better avoid it. I, for one, can't wait to see what else Bakhtyar Khudojnazarov will come up with...
The Lovely Elaine
