Hilal Baydarov works have been exalted by film festivals, slow cinema cinephiles and fans of Azeri cinema. It was quite surprising to see Locarno repudiated his latest submission this year with zero awards. I like his style but don't go out and recommend it out of experience cuz it many times labelled as a load of Arthouse turd. This film is to be enjoyed (no pun intented) as a whiskey on a cold weather night. I have been on a marathon of movies with downpour, cold or bleak. This documentary warranted another watch, there are so many shots, lines that accompanied me so often. I love his fiction but his documentaries make up most of him, his psyche, this can be the best example as it is very complicated even more difficult to describe. I have seen comments that his fictional films are better but sometimes the drastic self indulgence are usually unwelcomed by the majority.
Right from the opening shot of a gloomy landscape followed by shot of Baydarov in a hoodie is about the most Depressive Suicidal Black Metal he can get in the cultural background of his birthplace. Then begins his lamentations, a retrospection of past, philosophy, ideology about religion, life, cinema, love as Hilal takes you on a journey and once you join in, if you manage so, an outburst in guaranteed as the chapters unfold, tightly into this philosophy, even encompassing the mundanity and more depressive atmospheres. The cinematography contrasts of calm and atmospheric fragments in which bleak motifs of the vicinity resound throughout the runtime till the final nail in the coffin with the pages from the book (brain). Definitely his personal work till date as it strikes a certain emotion and builds upon the longing and sadness.
Right from the opening shot of a gloomy landscape followed by shot of Baydarov in a hoodie is about the most Depressive Suicidal Black Metal he can get in the cultural background of his birthplace. Then begins his lamentations, a retrospection of past, philosophy, ideology about religion, life, cinema, love as Hilal takes you on a journey and once you join in, if you manage so, an outburst in guaranteed as the chapters unfold, tightly into this philosophy, even encompassing the mundanity and more depressive atmospheres. The cinematography contrasts of calm and atmospheric fragments in which bleak motifs of the vicinity resound throughout the runtime till the final nail in the coffin with the pages from the book (brain). Definitely his personal work till date as it strikes a certain emotion and builds upon the longing and sadness.
