Georgian cinema has managed to rediscover its niche in the last few years, producing art that is consistently different and captivating in its philosophical musings. One can attribute this to the particular mindset of the small Caucasian nation – strong-willed with its own identity but suffering historically from a tumultuous relationship with its much larger neighbor, Russia. Georgian cinema has always been present but its resurgence is truly welcome a couple of decades after the collapse of the USSR, and the years of uncertainty which followed.
Coming to terms with this history in the modern era has given Georgian filmmakers a creative outlet to express profound feelings about the national tragedies and shifting identities of the country. The urge to narrate pain and address unresolved issues is a recurring theme in Georgian cinema. These complex emotions are captured astonishingly well in director Nino Zhvania’s feature debut Parade – which sees a spontaneous road trip turn sinister, with anyone’s guess about how such a strange, but also charming, tale could end. Screening in October 2020 as part of Calvert Journal’s New East Cinema Festival, it exists as a film without genre – making smart use of comedic timing and heartwarming character bonds as much as tense and thrilling twists.
Following three old friends, each man a character in their own right with deeply personal failings, Parade excels in slow-burn character development. This is encouraged through long, landscape-driven shots which take into account micro-gestures and uncomfortable silences – heavily present in real-life conversations but not always reflected accurately on film. Zhvania is not afraid to make the audience wait and work for the small hints at what has been, and what is still to come, in these characters’ undeniably interesting lives. The dialogue is banter between friends but often poetic, waxing philosophically about life with a vulgarity and crassness which gives the piece an Eastern European charm.
The odd protagonists each have backstories that are endearing in their variety and give a good illustration of life’s unlikely journey for each of us. A painter, a failed actor, and a recently released criminal — the plot is almost medieval in how it designates an ambiguous quest for three unlikely heroes. What is especially notable is the casualized portrayal of class and crime in Georgia, as the characters deal cavalierly with fistfights, theft, prostitution, and prison. Far from displaying a sadistic and seedy underbelly of the Caucasian country, the ‘underclass’ is in fact full of intelligence, energy, and insight. Zhvania’s success comes out of treating these transgressions as secondary to the actual substance of the characters – their memories, hopes, and regrets are the main picture – the specificity of the circumstances is rendered secondary to the gravity of the emotions.
In this sense, Parade acts as a coming of age film — but rather coming of a certain age. Gripes about getting old go hand in hand with the aching yearning for a more hopeful and idealistic past. A generation of men, raised in a different era, have all the baggage this implies etched on the lines on their faces and it is apparent in the way they act, smoke, and often jump to reactive conclusions.
Clever use of light and dynamic filming angles makes Parade a delight to watch, contrasting with the difficult conversations and bittersweet relationships each character holds. Although undeniably male-orientated, the film showcases fragility and loneliness more as a human issue than a male one. Zhvania does explore masculinity but rather through subtleties and emotional hang-ups. The male bonds of friendship are shown as fraught with disagreements, bitterness, and resentment, but also gifted with deep-rooted loyalty and fondness. Truly, the complexity of friendship, especially childhood friendship, is the outcome of this turbulent affair, plagued with unfortunate circumstances and unresolved anger.
Parade is very much a Georgian creation — the ubiquitousness of the Georgian identity is apparent through the beauty of the mountainous landscapes, the expressiveness of the language, the way characters interact with each other — offering profound insights and humorous derision in equal measure. In particular, the men dancing all night with three prostitutes, around a makeshift fire in an abandoned barn no less, is one of the most revealing and surprisingly disarming, even romantic, scenes. Though it sounds absurd, the circumstances leading to such a strange fate are entirely believable and almost mundane: it just sort of ‘happens’ as events unfold. Far from a macho pulling contest, through honest conversations the women draw out the vulnerabilities of the hardened men, transforming their already softened exteriors to shells of adolescent longing and sentimentality.
Due to its unorthodox pacing, the film serves as a glimpse into a rather special ‘day in the life’ of these unconventional Georgians rather than a narrative based around one big climatic event. The exploration is not the journey, but rather what the journey uncovers in this relationship — secrets, buried memories, and dashed dreams. Parade only gains strength from its uneven storyline, mirroring the pitfalls of real-life spontaneity and getting mixed up in the wrong crowds. Zhvania’s full-length debut acts more as a feature late in a director’s career – full of reminisces, nostalgic desire, and an impressive dash of maturity. You may not fall in love with the characters but will certainly develop a fondness for their brash perceptions of life. One cannot help but relate to the most human of emotions on display: regret, existentialism, and the simple craving for laughter and joy in life.
