Let the summer never come again

“A young man leaves his village to pass an audition for a dance company in town. He starts getting involved in illegal activities for money. He goes to bed with men for money. He falls in love with a man. He starts performing with the dance company. The man he loves has to leave the village as he is summoned to join the army, the young man goes back to his village. The film shows interest in this story, and just as much – if not more – to what happens all around.” Thus Alexandre Koberidze  provides an extremely succinct summary of his own overflowing film. And there’s no doubt he’s right: there isn’t much to add, at least as far as the story goes. As a matter of fact, the film never abandons its impressive narrative simplicity, clearly stating a preference for the use of such stylization in order to let something else spring forth: cinema itself. Shot in low resolution, so that the colors form silent, unlimited force fields enabling all drama to provide its own illustrations through looks, gestures and cinema’s own means, this first film is quite striking in its propensity to create uninterrupted wonders and charms, never ceasing to let elementary fiction be nourished with documentary realities gleaned while shooting. (JPR)