Sergei Parajanov's final completed film is based on Mikhail Lermontov's short story about a poor minstrel who must travel for 1,000 days before he is allowed to marry the daughter of the local ruler. Like Parajanov's earlier "Color of Pomegranates", "Ashik Kerib" (which Parajanov dedicated to his friend Andrei Tarkovsky) makes ample use of the visuals and goes long periods without speech. Basically, it tests your attention span; a far cry from Michael Bay's movies.I wouldn't go so far as to call this movie a masterpiece, but I like that it shows us a culture that we don't often get to see. The culture in this case is Azerbaijan. Parajanov had focused on Armenia with "The Color of Pomegranates", and Ukraine and Georgia with other movies. His refusal to incorporate socialist realism into his works caused friction with the Soviet authorities (as did his bisexuality).In the end I recommend "Ashik Kerib". I wonder where Parajanov's career would've gone had he lived longer.

"Ashik Kerib" is a sumptuous survey of the culture of Azerbaijan as it was from the 1500′s to the early 20th century. The film takes the form of a retelling of Russian author Mikhail Lermontov's short story of the same name (which in Azeri and Turkish means "Unfortunate Lover") and is performed as a children's fairy-tale. Two young lovers, the minstrel Ashik and a rich trader's daughter Magul-Megeri, pledge their love and wish to marry; unfortunately the girl's father, greedy for a huge bride price, prevents the marriage from going ahead unless Ashik can cough up the wealth required in 1,001 days. During this period, Ashik has many adventures in faraway lands and undergoes one trial after another as he tries to raise the money. If he doesn't get back in time with the bride price, Magul-Megeri's mean old man will marry her off to the equally odious Kurshudbek. Can Ashik raise the money and return home in time to claim his love? As with Parajanov's previous films like "The Color of Pomegranates" and "The Legend of Suram Fortress", the film's presentation is rich and layered with many shots of still life (a jug on a rock against a mountain waterfall, Persian-style miniaturist portrait paintings, displays of jugs, cups and musical instruments) that demonstrate what everyday life was like for Azeri people or the rich and middle-class among them at least. Scenes are filmed at some distance from the actors to show off their cultural context which helps to explain why they think and behave the way they do; there are very few close-ups and many of those are head-and-shoulder shots. The effect is one of a series of moving dioramas which suit the episodic nature of the plot, broken up into many short chapters each revolving around one incident. Dialogue is minimal and serves mainly to advance the story. The musical soundtrack is nearly continuous throughout the movie and doesn't match the action closely so some viewers may find the wailing singing annoying and shrill.There are many outdoor scenes which give the impression of Azerbaijan as a semi-arid grassy country where horses and Bactrian camels seem to be the main animals used for transport. Urban life takes place in small towns or large villages of old stone buildings.The film often features histrionic acting by villains or those who threaten Ashik in some way. Villains are readily identified by their lurid make-up and hammy, buffoonish actions. The two lead roles are passive and make little effort to overcome the obstacles that separate them: things happen to Ashik and he suffers and despairs a great deal but the plot's convolutions give him no opportunity to try to improve his fortunes. This is where the film founders: if it's a fairy-tale, surely Magul-Megeri and Ashik should have some direct or indirect access to magic so they could help each other? Magul-Megeri could find a wise woman or magician to send a helpful dove to guide Ashik and keep him out of trouble, and that dove could convey communications between the two to keep each other's spirits up and hold Kurshudbek at bay. The film already deviates from the original short story as it is: if Parajanov and Abashidze had followed it closely, the plot would end up as a remake of one of Parajanov's other films in which a Romeo leaves his love to pursue fortune and ends up wealthy but forgets to return home and marry the girl pining for him.As it is, the plot and Ashik wander from one struggle to another until time runs out and something has to be done to get Ashik back home. There's very little sense of the wonder and enchantment that should have accompanied this otherwise interesting ethnographic survey of Azeri culture. Usually with films in which a hero must endure trials and tests of character in a fairy-tale narrative, the main character is seen to change into a nobler person and proves a worthy marriage partner. This doesn't happen with "Ashik Kerib" and so in spite of the beautiful visual work and the good-looking lead actors, the film becomes just an exotic moving travelogue with some interesting still-life scenes but little else to hold the audience's attention.

All the film school nerds love to rave about Parajackmeoff's films. Being very interested in film (but not nerdy enough to pay a school to teach me what to like) I decided to give it a try. I thought it would compare with the great East European directors like Kusturica, Tarr and (even though I personally hate him, I admit his movies are challenging) Tarkovsky.Well, no. This movie is closer to Ed Wood's home movies, before he could afford a real camera. It's pointless, artless, lifeless and just plain boring. "Symbolism" is its main draw, according to most confused reviewers. Haha, beware of any movie which is praised for its symbolism alone. That just means that it doesn't mean squat. My toenail is symbolic, do you want to watch a 2-hour movie about it? Next let's talk about the horribly low, low, low budget. And I don't mean "artistically, challengingly low budget" I'm talking "laughably, ridiculously amateurishly low". At one point the guy wants to show a lion but he obviously couldn't even afford a housecat, so he dressed up 2 goons in a lion suit and took the camera 100 yards away. Creative? No, stupid. And the camera itself I believe was made out of a crackerjack box with 2 holes cut in the sides. For film it seems like he used toilet paper.The women in this film are offensively ugly. They're always crying, and they look like they don't have an ounce of brains. If this were an American film, the N.O.W. would be picketing--and I would gladly join them.I can't rate this movie low enough to express my disappointment. If you're stupid enough to rent this movie even after reading the negative reviews, then you deserve to waste 2 hours of your life. At least it'll keep you off the streets.

This is an excellent movie as far as the artistic and aesthetic dimensions are concerned and I would recommend it to anyone with an interest in experiencing the beauty of the Caucasus, or beauty as such. I do not think that there is any need to stress Parajanov's unique depiction of this beauty, after all he is acknowledged (deservedly) as one of the greatest directors of the 20th century. I am not quite sure, however, whether 'Western' audiences will be overwhelmed by Ashik Kerib (by the way 'Ashik' means 'lover', or more accurately, a person who is in love - Kerib corresponds to Turkish 'Garip'= the unfortunate). I showed it to some German friends of mine but they did not seem to be touched by it at all. 'Some' ethnological interest, if not knowledge (and passion) are indispensable. There is only one thing about Parajanov himself which I found irritating. In the documentary which is included in the Rusico edition, Parajanov himself claims to have pursued an ethnological approach in his films - as opposed to the Socialist Realism of his time which he despised so much. But how come that Parajanov says that KURDS are no Muslims when the majority of 90% of Kurds ARE (Sunnite) Muslims when he himself underlines the ethnological aspects of his movies?? How come we have a religious guy who is seen semi-nude (in Islam the exposure of a man's upper part of the body likewise constitutes sin). I did not expect a 100% accuracy watching this movie, and I still prefer it to The Shadows of Our Forgotten Ancestors and even to Sayat Nova despite its so many flaws (esp. the clothes and customs of the people, surely due to the 'tight budget'). The beautiful language spoken in the film is, of course, NOT Georgian - it's Azeri.