Ukanaskneli djvarosnebi: A look at a fading world

Is this for you?

If you like movies that feel like a dusty museum exhibit that suddenly started breathing, you’ll dig this. If you need a fast-paced thriller or anything with a clear arc, please, just skip it. This is slow. Like, real slow. It’s for people who like to stare at old photos and wonder about the weather in them.

The whole film is basically a love letter to the Khevurian tribe. It’s set in the mountains of Georgia, and the landscape is doing just as much acting as the actual humans. The way the light hits those jagged rocks? It’s genuinely hypnotic.

Notes from the couch

I found myself getting distracted by the costumes. There’s this one scene where a character is just walking past a stone wall, and the texture of his coat is so thick and coarse you can almost feel it scratching your own neck. It’s that level of detail that makes the movie stick to you.

Is it perfectly paced? Absolutely not. Sometimes the camera just hangs around for way too long on a goat, or a patch of grass, or someone looking thoughtfully at a fence. It reminded me a bit of the aimless wanderings in In the Park, just way more mountainous and way more serious.

Cinematic perspective: Exploring the visual vocabulary of Ukanaskneli djvarosnebi (1933) through its definitive frames.

• The silence is heavy.
• The faces in this movie look like they were carved out of the same stone as the mountains.
• I’m still not sure what the deal was with that one horse in the background of the village meeting.

Siko Dolidze doesn't hold your hand. He doesn't explain the rituals or the history behind the crosses. You’re just dropped into this cold, high-altitude world and told to deal with it. It’s refreshing, honestly. I’m tired of movies that feel like they’re checking off a list of emotional beats.

There is this one moment with Sergo Zakariadze that just hit me. He doesn't say anything for like forty seconds, just stares at the horizon. You can feel the weight of every bad harvest or winter storm he's ever lived through. It’s not 'acting' in the way we usually talk about it. It’s just... being.

If you've seen Shoes, you know how a film can feel tethered to a very specific, grounded reality. This feels similar, but with more wind and way less civilization.

Maybe it’s not for everyone. Actually, it's definitely not for everyone. But for those of us who like to get lost in the details, it’s worth the trek. Just don't expect a neat ending. The movie ends almost as abruptly as the path on the side of a cliff. 🏔️