5.1/10
Senior Film Conservator

A definitive 5.1/10 rating for a film that redefined the boundaries of cult cinema. Ramazan remains a cornerstone of transgressive art.
If you are looking for a high-octane thriller, you should probably skip Ramazan. This is a movie for people who like to sit with a film and let the dust settle around the edges of the frame. If you need a plot that moves at light speed, this will drive you absolutely bonkers.
It’s not trying to be Odin nasladilsya, drugoy rasplatilsya, and that’s a good thing. The pace is deliberate, almost stubborn. There’s a scene early on where someone is just preparing a meal, and the camera doesn't cut away for what feels like an eternity. I found myself counting the floor tiles. Weirdly, I didn't hate it.
The performances by Ergash Khamraev and Z. Kabilova feel very grounded, like they actually know how to walk in those shoes. They aren't doing the whole 'acting' thing where every line is delivered with a spotlight on it. It just feels like a Tuesday in a life you don't happen to live.
Sometimes the sound mix gets a little crunchy, and you can tell they were working with what they had on set. There's a background hum in the interior scenes that reminded me a bit of the crackle you hear in Smoke Bellew, though it’s totally different in tone. It gives the whole thing a tactile, worn-in texture. It feels lived-in.
I caught myself wondering why they chose to linger on the street shots for so long. Maybe they just liked the way the light hit the walls? It doesn't really serve the story, but it gives your brain a chance to catch up with the characters. It’s a bit like the feeling you get watching Folly of Youth, where the world feels bigger than the people stuck inside it.
Is it perfect? Hardly. The middle section sags like an old mattress. You could probably trim ten minutes and nobody would notice. Still, I’d rather have this than something that’s been polished until it has no soul left. It’s a movie that doesn't care if you're impressed by it. 🎥
I walked away thinking about the rhythm of the whole thing. It’s not a movie I’d watch every weekend, but it definitely sticks to your ribs. A rare thing these days.