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Have I got a church for you: JOURNEY TO ARMENIA
Chris Knight, National Post
National Post, Canada
April 13 2007
FILM REVIEW
French-born director Robert Guediguian returns to his Armenian roots by
making his first film in the former Soviet republic, still undergoing
an uneasy and painful transition to a post-communist economy. Standing
in for the director is Guediguian regular Ariane Ascaride as Anna, a
cardiologist from Marseilles who tells her father that he is dying and
needs surgery. Miffed and/or scared, the old man decamps for his native
land, even though he hasn't set foot there since the 1950s. Anna,
on the advice of her husband as well as her dad's backgammon-playing
chums at the Armenian cultural centre, sets out to find him.
After a rare non-mocking use of the plane-flying-over-a-map effect
(useful if, like me, you have only a vague notion of where to
find Armenia, nestled among Turkey, Georgia, Azerbaijan and Iran),
Anna finds herself in the country of her father and forefathers. A
friendly old man pops up from behind the plants in her hotel lobby
and offers to be her chauffeur. Another gives her a helicopter tour
of the countryside, pointing out that this is where God dropped all
the rocks He scooped out of France when He was making the world.
(Armenia, as the film also teaches, was the first officially Christian
nation, in AD 301, so visitors hear a lot of similar metaphors and
are invited to visit the many fine churches.)
Through meetings with an endless succession of patriots and viewing
endless images of Mount Ararat (a Turkish peak, but claimed hopefully
by Armenia), Anna starts to absorb the language, gets a haircut and
manicure in the local style and, wouldn't you know, starts to feel
more Armenian by the minute. She's helped along by her various guides
who keep asking, "C'mon, don't you feel just a little Armenian? Here,
let me show you another church ..."
The patriotism is stirring and the landscapes starkly beautiful, but
one can only hear heart-pounding speeches that begin "this is my home"
so many times before the repetition starts to dull. Anna meets and
helps an opportunistic hairdresser/ exotic dancer/smuggler out of a
tight spot (who knew a Marseilles heart doctor would also be such a
sharpshooter?) before narrowing her paternal search down to a remote
mountain village.
Your connection to this slightly over structured road movie may well
depend on how far back and in what direction your own roots travel.
As a rough guide, let's assume Atom Egoyan should form the front of
the line at the Canada Square theatre tonight. We'll leave it to you
to determine how far back you belong.
Rating 2
http://www.canada.com/nationalpost/story.html?i d=e4ec5e77-c005-497c-b799-10c31b3784ae
Chris Knight, National Post
National Post, Canada
April 13 2007
FILM REVIEW
French-born director Robert Guediguian returns to his Armenian roots by
making his first film in the former Soviet republic, still undergoing
an uneasy and painful transition to a post-communist economy. Standing
in for the director is Guediguian regular Ariane Ascaride as Anna, a
cardiologist from Marseilles who tells her father that he is dying and
needs surgery. Miffed and/or scared, the old man decamps for his native
land, even though he hasn't set foot there since the 1950s. Anna,
on the advice of her husband as well as her dad's backgammon-playing
chums at the Armenian cultural centre, sets out to find him.
After a rare non-mocking use of the plane-flying-over-a-map effect
(useful if, like me, you have only a vague notion of where to
find Armenia, nestled among Turkey, Georgia, Azerbaijan and Iran),
Anna finds herself in the country of her father and forefathers. A
friendly old man pops up from behind the plants in her hotel lobby
and offers to be her chauffeur. Another gives her a helicopter tour
of the countryside, pointing out that this is where God dropped all
the rocks He scooped out of France when He was making the world.
(Armenia, as the film also teaches, was the first officially Christian
nation, in AD 301, so visitors hear a lot of similar metaphors and
are invited to visit the many fine churches.)
Through meetings with an endless succession of patriots and viewing
endless images of Mount Ararat (a Turkish peak, but claimed hopefully
by Armenia), Anna starts to absorb the language, gets a haircut and
manicure in the local style and, wouldn't you know, starts to feel
more Armenian by the minute. She's helped along by her various guides
who keep asking, "C'mon, don't you feel just a little Armenian? Here,
let me show you another church ..."
The patriotism is stirring and the landscapes starkly beautiful, but
one can only hear heart-pounding speeches that begin "this is my home"
so many times before the repetition starts to dull. Anna meets and
helps an opportunistic hairdresser/ exotic dancer/smuggler out of a
tight spot (who knew a Marseilles heart doctor would also be such a
sharpshooter?) before narrowing her paternal search down to a remote
mountain village.
Your connection to this slightly over structured road movie may well
depend on how far back and in what direction your own roots travel.
As a rough guide, let's assume Atom Egoyan should form the front of
the line at the Canada Square theatre tonight. We'll leave it to you
to determine how far back you belong.
Rating 2
http://www.canada.com/nationalpost/story.html?i d=e4ec5e77-c005-497c-b799-10c31b3784ae