VODKA LEMON - DVD review

Hiner Saleem's "Vodka Lemon" (2003) covers familiar ground from unfamiliar territory.

One of the staples of the international art-house circuit is the broad genre of films which depict everyday life from relatively remote regions of the globe. Bent Hamer's "Kitchen Stories" (2003), for example, recounted the story of a homeowner in rural Norway, and Abbas Kiarostami's "The Wind Will Carry Us" (1999) contrasted modern life with the older traditions of a small Iranian village. "Vodka Lemon" brings us another remote setting: a predominantly Kurdish village (Saleem is an Iraqi Kurd who now works from Paris) in post-Soviet Armenia.

The marketing appeal of many of these films centers on the fact that international audiences have never seen (or, in many cases, even heard of) these small towns before, and are curious to learn about them. Such films also run the risk of presenting these settings and their inhabitants as quaint or exotic for viewers to gawk at as if they were visiting the zoo or watching a nature documentary on The Discovery Channel. Fortunately, Saleem avoids this pitfall, though sometimes he walks a fine line.

"Vodka Lemon" provides its share of voyeuristic thrills, including the opening shot in which the protagonist Hamo (Romen Avinian) whooshes across the snow while lying in a bed that is being dragged behind a truck. Even the smallest details of this remote town seem so strange as to be almost alien. In many scenes, characters sit in dining chairs or stools that are incongruously placed outside in the deep snow. The only sign of public transportation is the bus that runs from town to the nearby cemetery.

Hamo is a widower who, like virtually everyone else still left in town, has nothing to occupy his days. Having no means of support, he is forced to sell his personal belongings one-by-one in order to put food on the table; eventually he even has to sell his old Red Army uniform to a spoiled brat who just wants to wear it to impress the girls. Hamo also visits the post office on a regular basis, hoping to receive money from his son who lives in the "big city" but is disappointed every time. Hamo's only regular activity is his daily visit to his wife's grave where he eventually meets Nina (Lala Sarkissian) a widow who also visits her husband's grave regularly. It's not exactly love at first sight, but eventually their relationship kindles a spark that keeps them going through the cold and (not as) lonely nights.

Saleem's fondness for his eccentric characters could easily lapse into mawkishness, but he keeps the film grounded in reality by seeding it liberally with moments of black humor. In one scene, Hamo hauls a massive dresser on his back down the snowy road; he can barely keep moving. A passing couple offers to buy it and eventually haggles him down to an outrageously low price that he is forced to accept. But Hamo is actually quite pleased with the deal. The new owner tries to pick up the dresser and immediately throws out his back; he and his wife are stuck waiting for the bus that might not come for hours. Meanwhile, Hamo walks briskly away; he's out one dresser, but at least he'll get home quickly.

In terms of narrative, "Vodka Lemon" is fairly conventional, but the real strength of the film is Saleem's visual design. He makes poetry out of desolation and creates some striking absurdist moments. In addition to the lovely opening shot, there is also a memorable sequence involving a piano which is being played as it skids into the distance along the icy road. Saleem has a keen eye for detail, and his ability to underscore the surreal elements in mundane life reminds me very much of Emir Kusturica and Aki Kaurismäki.

Life is pretty miserable in this town, and it's not like it gets any better by the end of the movie. Still, the story isn't a tragic one. The characters all have a sense of humor about their plight, and even recognize how foolish their nostalgia is. At one point, a few of the men think back fondly to their time under Russian rule when they didn't have freedom, but at least they had everything else.

In the liner notes included with the DVD, Saleem references something his grandfather used to say about the Kurdish plight: "Our past is sad, our present is catastrophic, but fortunately we have no future." That pretty much sums up the tone of "Vodka Lemon" as well: wry, bittersweet, but never bleak.

Video

The film is presented in 1.66:1 widescreen aspect ratio. The image quality is clear and never looks blown out, no small feat considering how much snow fills nearly every frame.

Audio

The film is presented in Dolby Digital Stereo. Optional English subtitles support the audio which is in Armenian, Russian and Kurdish.

Extras

Only a trailer and brief liner notes which include an interview with Saleem.

Closing Thoughts

"Vodka Lemon" doesn't so much craft a happy ending as a less-unhappy ending, but it's still uplifting in a way. It might seem a bit familiar to art-house faithful, but that doesn't detract from its charm. "Vodka Lemon," Hiner Saleem's fourth feature film and the only one I have seen, won the San Marco prize at the 2003 Venice Film Festival. His fifth, "Kilometre Zero" (2005), became the first Iraqi film to play at the Cannes Film Festival. If "Vodka Lemon" is a fair indication of his talent, I look forward to seeing the rest of his work.