Poems are not born in the din of executions.

Revenge
Ermek Shinarbaev 1989 Kazakhstan/Russia
Starring: Alexandre Pan, Oleg Li, Valentin Te, Lubove Germanova, Rasim Jakibaev


Kazakhstan is a country whose cinematic output I have to admit I haven't explored that much. To most viewers probably all that comes to mind when the country is mentioned is Sacha Baron Cohen arsing about and being offensive, which is as unfortunate as Cohen's popularity because just this one film contains more sorrow and hatred than the industries of many other nations manage in a year. As soon as the titles appear on screen it's dazzling with the lettering and sound reminiscent of classic Japanese horrors like Onibaba and soon melting away to show a tortoise moving slowly through grass, breathing heavily and rustling as it goes. It's so straightforward and something that really shouldn't unsettle us that much but somehow it remains even when we realise the animal has little to do with the actual story other than setting a measured, unhurried pace. The main narrative is more powerful and complex with the murder of a child launching forth a quest for vengeance spanning two generations; the main character of the second half is even told at one point that he was born only to exact revenge for his family and that he "won't have a wife or children, or feel joy or sorrow" until his job is finished. It's something that hangs heavy throughout (along with the ever-present sickle), even when years have passed and he's diseased and haunted the man can't escape it, and yet the futility of the mission also hangs heavy with the actual act somehow less important than the obsession with completing it; indeed, it's even something other characters seem to have worked out. This is after all a film of interesting characters, from the wife of the villain who has married him in a forced attempt to save his soul to the smug trader who restates his deal with the first protagonist to last eleven years instead of ten to the unrepentant villain himself, who returns after his adversary's death to taunt the still-grieving family only to find a new opponent. But for all the violence and cruelty of the story each act stays strictly off-screen where we can only hear the swing of canes used for a beating and the anguished cries of the victims. It's a textured, profoundly accomplished take on rage and destiny that really deserves a bigger audience, hopefully through its rerelease in conjunction with World Cinema Foundation it'll get one. I need to see more Kazakh cinema.