Film Review: The Color of Pomegranates (1970)

Well, after a short break with Being There, we’re right back into the world of symbolic and interpretable cinema. If you thought you needed cultural study to understand Valerie or 20th Century, then you’re really going to need to brush up on your Armenian/Azerbaijani/Georgian knowledge to wrap your head around The Color of Pomegranates. That’s not to say the film’s concept is entirely incomprehensible, I was able to get a general understanding of the story just from the visuals and sparse voice lines/title cards, but a lot of the visual imagery and metaphors are certainly not going to be readily understood by an American audience (or most audiences that aren’t culturally tied to that region). Still though, it is a stunning and fascinating work for those with the interest to not only see it, but also learn about what it was going for. My plot summary is probably going to be much shorter compared to a lot of my other reviews, as this film is very unconventional in its presentation of story, but here’s a basic idea of what it’s about.

The film is based on the life and writings of Armenian poet Sayat-Nova. We start with him as a child, as he absorbs all that is around him and that will influence his being. He ages into a young man, where he falls in love with a princess. The two care deeply for each other, but the society around them won’t allow a cross-class union, and Sayat himself begins to view the princess as a temptation that is diverting him from his path to becoming what he feels he needs to become. Thusly, he retreats to a monastery, where he leads a highly religious life of rituals and avoidance of earthly pleasures (though he does stray once or twice). As he goes through his daily life at the monastery, as well as his pilgrimages to other religious institutions, he reflects upon his life through dreams, coming to realize that he is aging and losing the connections to what he once held dear. Throughout all of this, and though we don’t see him physically doing so, he is writing about his experiences and crafting them into poetry. Poetry that will become instrumental in his legacy here on this plane, even long after he has left us. You can probably assume, since this is about the life of a deceased person, how this film will end, but I won’t give it away anyway, since you should still see how it’s done.

I want to start of by saying that this is an incredibly beautiful film. The color work, especially, is something that will stick in your mind after watching it. Blue, red, black, white, gold, and several variants of each are all here and very striking. I’m not sure how to put it, but something about them seems to scream of that West Asian region. Many countries in that area often make clothing or other materials with very bold colors or color patterns. Admittedly, it probably seems more striking to a person, like me, who doesn’t live in that area and doesn’t see it all the time, but nevertheless, it does give the film a very distinctive look. The color usage goes beyond just visual beauty, though, and does play into the symbolism as well. For example, during one of the final scenes between Sayat and the princess, they are in the room in which they spent a lot of time together, but instead of the lighter, blue-striped clothing they wore before, now she is clothed in red, and he is clothed in black. Their voice-overs describe each other as “fire clothed in fire” for the princess and “fire clothed in black” for Sayat. The fire they’re talking about most likely refers to passion or ambition, fire is often a common symbol for that, but clearly Sayat wary of embracing this fire (a.k.a. her), as he does not wear the fire’s color while she does. His wearing of black most likely represents a guilt or turmoil, or possibly a fear. After all, when something is burned, often all that is left is black ash. Plus, being a religious person, he might view her now as a potential temptation away from the “right path.” It’s interesting to note that he continues to wear this color when he joins the monastery, and several other people living there wear black robes as well. A monastic life is often a rather moderate one, much time being spent avoiding that which might give you an “earthly pleasure.” Therefore, the black can be seen as almost like a suppressant, covering oneself in a duller color as a way to hold off one’s feelings of dangerous passion. So, there’s definitely more to the color choices than just simple aesthetics, for sure. In addition to the color aspect, I must give praise to the production design and staging. This film has such a tight, controlled presentation that creates some incredibly fascinating images. At times, they almost resemble still-life paintings, what with the arrangement of objects within a shot. It also seems like a technique reminiscent of very early film-making from the silent era, like that of George Méliès, where everything was shot and staged like a play or presentation, but with the added techniques afforded by cinema. This sort of “cinematic mid-point between stage and art” seems to predict the works of later filmmakers such as Wes Anderson and Peter Greenaway, both of whom employ these sorts of controlled shots with vibrant imagery in their films. Of course, they come at it from an American and British point-of-view respectively, as opposed to the Armenian/Azerbaijani/Georgian perspective we see here. One such image that stuck with me was actually a background element in the scenes featuring Sayat and the princess. When they’re in the room together, you can see a cherub statue surrounded by a frame, suggesting that this is actually a painting of some kind. However, throughout the scenes, the cherub is spinning, and the frame is swinging back and forth, almost like something out of a wind-up box or a clockwork fixture. Interestingly, during these scenes, the princess is continuously weaving some sort of fabric while Sayat plays and tunes his kamancheh (which is a type of stringed instrument), and the cherub/frame stop moving when the princess breaks one of the threads. It’s as if a single mistake can disrupt the whole mechanism of their lives, or something along those lines. The spinning cherub shows up again later in the film, during a scene that depicts several figures from the monastery, Sayat included, all performing repetitive activities, much like Sayat and the princess did in their scenes. This definitely sells the idea of the sort of “clockwork mechanical” concept that was toyed with earlier and is a very interesting sight indeed. There is plenty more to see in this film and a good amount to decipher. Scenes such as Sayat as a child laying on a roof with several books lying around him, workmen using scythes to cut the weeds off the monastery roof, the various people of the royal grounds doing outdoor activities, the one-winged angels who flitter around during the final scenes, Sayat lying among candles as headless chickens flap around him, the interpretive mime performers, etc. All of these are both arresting to see and hold deeper meanings related to Sayat’s life and the history of the region. However, I mostly wanted to focus on my overall impressions of it while I was watching. I’m no expert on Caucasus history and culture, so there was plenty that went over my head during my viewing. Thankfully, as with Valerie, I was able to watch the Criterion release of this film, which contained a discussion of the symbolism in the film. This gave me a much greater understanding of the film, and looking into the director, Sergei Parajanov, and his history told me so much more about what his modus operandi was as well as the difficulties he faced during that time-frame. According to a title card at the beginning, the version I saw is the closest they could get to Parajanov’s vision. (Apparently, at the time, the Soviet Union was not pleased with the film, as they felt it wasn’t a true representation of Sayat-Nova’s life and they weren’t too keen on certain aspects that this and Parajanov’s other works was putting forward, things that “encouraged” ideas they didn’t want encouraged, which would lead to them arresting him on trumped-up charges and stealing a decade and a half away from him). I don’t want to parrot their analysis of the film, as that wouldn’t be honest, but I would very much recommend you either see the Criterion release or seek out discussions of the symbolism after you watch the film. It’s very useful for a non-Armenian and the like for their understanding of the film.

Even if you only watch the film though, I still think you’ll get a fascinating experience out of it. This is a beautiful and intriguing film that is a testament to the strength of unconventional storytelling and presentation. Though it’ll probably be even more foreign than the likes of Valerie to most Americans, I think it’s well worth your time. You certainly won’t see too many other films like it, at least not to its extent. Come and see the Color of Pomegranates, it’s a unique look and flavor all its own.