(THIS ARTICLE IS MACHINE TRANSLATED by Google from Norwegian)
Mandariner
Screenplay and Direction: Zaza Urashadze,
Photo: Rein Kotov
The Estonian-Georgian feature film Mandariner takes place in the Caucasus province of Abkhazia in 1992, during the conflict that followed the Russian-backed Abkhazians demanded independence from Georgia. Some Estonians lived in the area, and when large-scale people left the province because of the unrest, many of them traveled to their newly liberated country of origin.
The war on the stairs. The film introduces us to the older carpenter Ivo and his neighbor Margus, who own a mandarin plantation – both Estonians in a long-abandoned small town. They fear the war will soon be on their doorsteps, but Margus wants to harvest this year's mandarins before fleeing to Estonia. Ivo's family has already traveled, but he himself is more ambivalent about leaving his home – and wants to help the neighbor with the mandarin harvest anyway.
Then the military emerges, first in the form of two Caucasian mercenaries fighting for the liberation of Abkhazia. They leave Ivo and Margus at peace – but soon after they move on, they are attacked by three Georgian soldiers. After the clash, the two good neighbors find the one Caucasian alive and provide him with the necessary care in Ivo's house. Ivo and Margus decide to bury the four dead soldiers – but then discover that one of the Georgian soldiers has also survived, albeit with serious injuries. In doing so, they also take this soldier and redeem him in the room next to the not so badly wounded opponent.
In his gratitude for being saved, the mercenary promises not to hurt the Georgian as long as he is in Ivo's house. Nevertheless, he is determined to avenge his fallen comrade and kill the Georgian as soon as the latter moves beyond the more or less neutral frieze. But as the two enemies spend time under the same roof, they gradually develop some respect for each other.
A general war. Mandariner is not a costly production with big kind of scenes, but a kind of chamber play that draws a picture of the war situation through an involuntary meeting between a few characters. The basic idea is not unlike Norwegian Petter Næs's international feature film Into the White from 2012, which was based on a true story from World War II about German and British pilots who sought refuge in the same cabin on the Norwegian plateau after their respective planes were shot down.
The action in Mandariner takes place as mentioned in 1992, during an armed conflict that lasted until the following year. After this, other unrest in the same region has regularly appeared in the news picture – some of them constantly relevant. The Georgian-Abkhazian conflict that forms the backdrop of the film is hardly irrelevant to these, and thus has more than historical interest. At the same time acting Mandariner – like many other war films – as much about war on a general level as about the specific war it depicts. IN Mandariner this war is otherwise linked to different ethnic and religious affiliations, without this giving the action any less transferable value to other conflicts. On the contrary.
Like many other war movies Mandariner as much about war on a general level as about the specific war it depicts.
That said, movies are bound to the specifics to some degree. Not least because of the classic dramaturgy's demand that the action follow one, or a few, main characters. Admittedly, there are examples of the opposite, such as the collectivist film narratives of the old Russian filmmaker Sergei Eisenstein Strike og The armored cruiser Potemkin (both from 1925), but the vast majority of feature films are limited to a small number of central characters. And even though Mandariner is a rather narrow film of the type that is described as "artistic" rather than "commercial", it is nevertheless a film that follows a classic – and one must say "Hollywood" – narrative structure. Furthermore, it can be argued that the message conveyed within this dramaturgical model is closely – not to say inextricably – linked to the development these individuals go through during the film, which in turn means that film as a narrative form is not particularly suitable for discussing issues of more ideological or structural nature. The individual becomes more important than the collective, in a medium that captures the concrete rather than the abstract.
The essence of war. This may seem more paradoxical than it is, which is probably due to the fact that the latest claims are in excess of rough generalizations that overlook the spectator's ability to abstract from the concrete. Mandariner is a good example of a film that depicts some specific fates in a specific war situation, but which also tells a story that is perceived as relevant far beyond this. Precisely because of its chamber-like and stripped-down setting with its clear opposites, it paints a clear picture that can easily be transferred to other (war) contexts, and which captures much of the essence of war in general.
Put simply, these are people who are set to fight against people, may be based on some higher ideals – or simply some conflicting perceptions of nationality and land. Along the way, one can admittedly object that the basic concept as well as the story in Mandariner is in danger of becoming for simple, but this is far outweighed by a strong and somewhat ironic climax. Then you have to live with the fact that the pop ballad at the very end is a little over the top.
Mandariner is not a film that wants to take a stand on the actual conflict between the Georgians and the Abkhazians. The form and dramaturgy make – as previously described – that it first and foremost shows the consequences of the war for the people who end up in it, and this then also seems to be the Georgian director Zaza Urashadze's main concern. Through the film, he conveys a humanistic message about people who gradually approach each other despite different ethnicities, religions and sides in the war.
Unique insights. As seen can Mandariner also serve as an example that the film's foremost strength as a narrative form is precisely its focus on individuals – what one might call "the human factor". The film media's strong ability to evoke emotions in the viewer is of course also relevant in this context. It should not be denied that this can often result in excessive sentimentality (which, of course, is not the case in Urushadze's film), but emotions are nonetheless an essential component of the unique insight film can provide in concrete human destinies. Without this insight necessarily preventing abstraction, generalization or interpretation.
Mandariner was nominated for the Academy Award (as well as the Golden Globe) for Best Foreign Language Film earlier this year, as the first Estonian film in this Oscar category. As is well known, the price went up going by Pawel Pawlikowski, but there is still reason to believe that too Mandariner went home to some Americans who saw it. Its noble form of simplicity is sought after in Hollywood, and it would not surprise me if Zaza Urashadze's film gets a remake - which will probably take place during a completely different war. In other words, it can be both apples and oranges.
PS: Mandariner is distributed in Norwegian cinemas by Another World Entertainment. After many years as a video distributor with a focus on more or less obscure cult films, the company has gradually also moved into the cinema landscape. With this film, it may seem that they will be a supplement to Arthaus, Tour de Force, Fidalgo and the other agencies that import narrower "quality films". In an increasingly commercial cinema market, this is very welcome.
