Parky At the Pictures (25/4/2025)

(Reviews of April; and Wind, Tide & Oar)

APRIL.

Georgian cinema has been on a roll since Dea Kulumbegashvili debuted with Beginning (2020). Now, following Levan Akin's And Then We Danced (2019) and Crossing (2024), Elene Naveriani's Wet Sand (2021) and Blackbird Blackbird Blackberry (2023), and Alexandre Koberidze's What Do We See When We Look at the Sky? (both 2021), Kulumbegashvili returns with her second feature, the indelibly disturbing, April.

Nina (Ia Sukhitashvili) is the chief obstetrician at a hospital in Lagodekhi in Eastern Georgia. When a child is still born, the furious father (Sandro Kalandadze) lodges a complaint with the police and forces the head physician (Merab Ninidze) to ask colleague, David (Kakha Kintsurashvili), to conduct an inquiry. The father refuses to accept complicity (in spite of the fact that the pregnancy wasn't registered and the wife eschewed all prenatal monitoring) and ignores David's reassurance that Nina is the best OB-GYN in the clinic, as he knows she performs abortions in the village.

Unable to sleep, Nina goes for a drive and picks up a stranger on the road (Beka Songhulashvili). She tells him she used to visit the area as a child and recalls her dilemma when her sister got stuck in the mud at a fishing pool. Despite Nina being paralysed by fear, the sister survived and is now a happy mother of two. Nina asks her passenger if he would like a blow job, but he's too tired to get erect. Nina lifts her top and allows the man to fondle her, but she turns away when he unzips his fly. When she asks him to lick her, he pushes her face into the dashboard and slams the car door behind him.

Nina visits David in his office to ask him to help her with the inquiry because she knows people are looking for an excuse to fire her. She insists she couldn't have performed a Caesarian, as the woman didn't want one. Indeed, she seemed relieved the baby had died, as she already had enough children on her hands. David warns her not to repeat this and enquires about her love life, as they were once an item. He hugs her and promises to see what he can do.

After looking at a field of poppies, Nina calls on Mzia (Ana Nikolava) because her deaf and non-verbal sister, Nana (Roza Kancheishvili), is pregnant again. Mzia knows her husband would be furious if he knew she had not kept an eye on Nana and asks if Nina can help them. Nina is wary of being gossiped about in the village, but she promises to do what she can.

Similarly, she gives the pill to a 16 year-old bride, whose body is not ready to conceive. With David establishing during a post mortem that the dead baby had a problem with its lungs, Nina has new hope that he will find in her favour in his report. When they meet privately, he asks why she refused to marry him and she insists it would not have worked out. He is now married and his kids are rehearsing for a concert at the hospital. But they still have sex on the floor of his office. Once again, David urges Nina to be careful and suggests letting some of the others do abortions for a while (as they are legal, but often lead to problems with irate husbands or parents-in-law). However, she feels she must do her duty by the women who trust her.

Following a late-night tryst with a rural car washer, Nina performs the abortion on Nana, who lies on a plastic sheet on the house table. A storm breaks and Nina's car gets stuck in the mud and she has to return to the house. Mzia's husband (David Beradze) is having his supper at the table and he invites Nina to join him. He tells his children that this is the doctor who brought them into the world and chides Mzia for busying herself in the kitchen. Complaining that the region needs asphalt roads rather than a school that resembles a spaceship, the man insists on Nina staying the night, as it would be too dangerous to drive. Despite Nina averring that she's not scared, she sleeps over and he gives her a push in the morning to free the car.

Following a nocturnal stroll around a cattle market and a dream in which an emaciated wraith-like mud creature (who appears intermittently throughout the film) embraces David, Nina performs a C-section. She is summoned to the hospital chief's office, where she learns that Nana has been murdered by her brother-in-law, who has been sexually abusing her for years. The police have discovered that the victim had undergone an abortion and Nina admits to carrying out the procedure. David looks on, as their boss informs her that she will have to take responsibility for what she has done. Remaining calm, he also tells her that she has landed him in trouble and has ruined her own life for refusing to obey the law.

She agrees to do whatever the physician suggests. A knock brings the angry husband and his wife, Irma (Tosia Doloiani), who sit to listen to the verdict of the report. It's full of medical jargon and Nina sits with David and their boss, as the couple listen on the sofa. `Perhaps God sends us blessings so that we learn how to overcome despair,' he concludes in an effort to make the uncomprehending pair feel better. As it becomes clear that the hospital has found enough medical justification to support Nina, everyone is suddenly distracted by a loud noise from outside. The film finishes with a shot of the wizened naked figure moving slowly across marshy terrain with snow-capped Caucasus mountains in the distance.

Bitingly critical of the second-class status of women in modern Georgia, this is a troubling and occasionally problematical drama. Ia Sukhitashvili is compelling as Nina, although she is often an invisible presence during some of the most significant scenes. As Kulumbegashvili favours long takes and eschews traditional over-the-shoulder framing or shot-reverse-shot editing, the camera as frequently fixes on the person speaking or listening to Nina as it does on her. Consequently, the viewer is made to feel like an eavesdropper on intimate conversations, while also being reminded that they are watching a film made up of conscious stylistic decisions.

Once again revealing the influence of Carlos Reygadas, Michael Haneke, and Cristian Mungiu in her approach to narrative, tone, and pacing, Kulumbegashvili makes demands on the audience by returning repeatedly the cadaverous figure. This appears in the opening shot and seems to be an oneiric representation of either the trauma that Nina experiences from a prolonged period aborting foetuses or of the guilt she feels at perhaps having terminated a pregnancy while with David. However, no explanation is provided (although a clue could lie in the dread-filled anecdote about her sister and the engulfing mud) and these surreal reveries reinforce the distancing effect achieved by the blocking strategy.

Thanks to Lars Ginzel's mucilaginous sound design, however, they also have a Cronenbergian impact, which can similarly be felt during the close-up coverage of the birthing and aborting sequences. Elsewhere, the soundtrack is filled with heavy breathing, barking dogs, lowing cows, and croaking frogs, as well as lots of mud-, water, and body-related squelching. Matthew Herbert's unsettling psyche-hinting score (which uses bones as an instrument) complements these noises in the same way that production designer Beka Tabukashvili provides cinematographer Arseni Khachatura with the long corridors, spacious offices, and cramped cottages that dictate the camera distances that set the visual tone for the action.

Luca Guadagnino's name among the producers should help the picture gain access to some of the UK's smaller arthouse venues. But, for all its aesthetic quality and thematic potency, this isn't an easy watch, as Kulumbegashvili is not one for compromises. However, the uncompromising rawness of the action and the persistent pugnacity of the assault on the patriarchy make this essential viewing in a way that Coralie Fargeat's over-hyped body horror, The Substance, was not.

WIND, TIDE & OAR.

Film-maker Huw Wahl has reached niche audiences with his first three feature documentaries, To Hell With Culture (2014), Action Space (2016), and The Republics (2020). But Wind, Tide & Oar, a paean to engineless sailing that took three years to make, should prove irresistible to anyone who likes messing about in boats.

For centuries, boats relied solely on the wind and the tide. Towards the end of the 19th century, however, engines were introduced and they have become the norm when it comes to sailing. But there are those who prefer to adhere to the old methods for reasons ranging from navigational pride and sporting challenge to environmental concern.

In Part One, `The Tide Goes In', Wahl introduces us to his sister, Rose Ravetz from Maldon in Esses, who explains why she has just removed the propellor from her Falmouth Quay punt, `Defiance'. He then takes us to The Mill in Suffolk, where boats of all sizes are taking part in an engineless sailing jolly. The sound of rigging ropes being pulled, anchors being weighed, and sails billowing on the breeze is intoxicating, as are the images of the wooden hulls gliding across the water.

Next we're floating on `Blue Mermaid', a traditional Thames barge that the Sea-Change Sailing Trust uses for excursions along the tidal waters of Suffolk, Essex, and Kent, as well as Old Father Thames himself. On the nearby River Orwell, Stevie Hunt sails `Birubi', a 42ft steel ketch that also happens to be his home. Rose also looks cosy making her own rope with a fire burning and an oil lamp swinging from a hook in her cabin, after she re-launches `Defiance' after its visit to the boatyard. She explains that sailing offers reassurance in an uncertain world, even though it's impossible to control everything once you cast off.

As dolphins swim alongside `Blue Mermaid', where the crew is working in happy harmony, we slip into Part Two, `The Tide Flows Out'. Stevie does a little exploring in his rowing boat. He loves the fact that his days are dictated by nature and the elements rather than human beings. We also meet Jonathan Bailey, who works Cornwall's Fal Estuary Oyster Fishery on `Katrina'. Returning home along Myler Creek, he sums up the ethos of the entire film: `An awful lot of the skill isn't not making mistakes, because you always will because you are dealing with so many variables, but it is knowing how to unpick it when you have made the mistake. This is what it teaches you, doing it without an engine.'

In Falmouth harbour, Giles Gilbert fishes for mackerel on `Dorothy', a self-built vessel that helps supply his shop in the town, `Pysk'. Cornish-based Jude and Jonno Brickhill sail `Guide Me' to a regatta in Brittany, while a group of kids happily muck in during a week-long sailing course, where they get a chance to take out dinghies, as well as working as part of a team aboard a bigger sail boat, Lucy Harris's `Helen & Violet'.

The focus turns on to the ecological benefits of engineless sailing in Part Three: `The Turning Tide'. Two ginormous container ships pass close to each other in the North Sea before Jorne Langelaan explains the principles behind his `EcoClipper' initiative to return cargoes to sailing vessels. Dutch company Fairtransport is already operating `Tres Hombres' and `De Tukker' and we see a consignment of barrels being handled by the crew as Andreas Lackner explains how they are better employers than the freight behemoths who are ruinous for the planet.

A lively shanty at a post-race party brings us back to Rose, as she guides `Defiance' into a temporary mooring. Her confidence on the water is affirmed by Langelaan's contention that it takes great skill and a oneness with the natural world to master sailing without an engine. He hopes the future belongs to the Wind and Weather Wizards, who become one with their surroundings.

Ending on a note of hope and positivity, this is an engaging account of the re-emergence of sail as a commercially viable mode of transport. Much of the attention falls on leisure craft, with Wahl making the most of his fraternal access to Rose Ravetz, as she prepares to return `Defiance' to the water after a four-year restoration. But he seems have been welcomed wherever he went and the geniality of the various sailors adds to the appeal of a film that also pitches its green message with just the right fervour.

While the boats are wonderful, Wahl's technique is also worthy of commendation. Shooting on 16mm with a 1960s hand-wound camera, he achieves images that bring to mind those of Mark Jenkin. Indeed, he even throws in the odd jump cut, as Wahl serves as his own editor. He has also created an evocative sound design that makes flapping sails, tautening ropes, and clanking chains feel as thrilling as the whoosh of the hulls, as they pick up speed through the water. Some of the magic hour seascapes aren't too shabby, either.