The worn-out and frozen second film by Rusudan Glurjidze called “The Antique” may refer to the following: some of the disintegrating old furniture items richly patinaed that Medea (Demuria Salome) a Georgian immigrant smuggles in from her country for sale in Russia; the once glamorous, but now decrepit St. Petersburg apartment she buys at a reduced price on strange conditions; or Vadim (Dreyden Sergey), an old man who insists living there despite transfer deeds being done with it. On another hand, it may be referring to Russia itself as an ancient nation that is reluctant to change, captured when thousands of ethnic Georgians settled in this most hostile 2006 campaign aimed at driving away or killing them.
Glurijidze’s film sometimes hardens and freezes with lingering anger over that injustice, but that’s beneath the warmer veneer of a genial culture-clash tale, in which ostensibly opposed characters recognize in each other a common degree of damage: Everything and everyone is a bit shopworn in “The Antique,” which isn’t shy about stretching an elegiac metaphor. Like the director’s exquisite 2016 debut “House of Others” likewise chosen as Georgia’s international Oscar submission her second feature is a melancholic, atmospheric and ravishingly shot slice of recent history, funneling wider social and political crises through more intimately drawn character conflicts.
If “The Antique” doesn’t quite have the haunted, bone-deep impact of its predecessor, its gently tempered sentimentality may carry it further on the global arthouse circuit following a festival run that got off to a difficult start. Initially pulled at the last minute from its Venice premiere slot, due to an alleged copyright dispute that the filmmakers declared an attempt at Russian censorship, the film eventually had a belated bow on the Lido now boasting battle scars that may lend additional currency to its stand against Georgian oppression in Putin’s Russia.
Medea, played by Demuria in a characteristically flinty and secretive manner, is a brisk pragmatist and like many Georgians looking for jobs has left Georgia for economic reasons. As such, she does not feel the need to create social contacts with anyone in St. Petersburg whose elegant streets are icy and non-convivial like her. In that respect, working at the antiquarian store should be no different as she appears to take orders from an invisible boss hidden somewhere upstairs who only communicates via intercom systems. In this crystallized vision of mid-2000s Russia it’s every man or woman for him/herself better not to be noticed by the authorities. The apartment period flat that Medea shockingly finds at the beginning of the film serves as her sanctuary: Peeling, dilapidated and still cluttered with yellowing remnants of decades past, it’s a place for those who would be forgotten.
However, here comes the catch. A retired politician of the local government and an octogenarian widower Vadim sells his apartment under one condition that he continues living in it even after the sale. Therefore, he despises his new young roommate by showing both his personal crotchetiness and a hatred for foreigners inherited from his community. To him other people are distant entities and he has to keep off them, while his only human contact is when he attends juvenile curling tournaments.
Nevertheless, this sudden friendship between two complete opposites ultimately evolves into some strange camaraderie as they both share one thing affinity for being alone. However, neither can be completely self-sufficient; yet all Vadim does is estrange himself further from Peter (Vladimir Vdovichenkov), a son who has grown too materialistic and stiff-necked for him to bear anymore. Besides, Medea cannot fully dismiss her former husband Lado (Vladimir Daushvili) who came all the way from Georgia just because she does not love him anymore and that leads him to be caught by Russian immigration officers upon arrival in Russia.
The slow melting of the movie’s core, cross-cultural, cross-generational relationship could be sentimental if not for the tightly controlled performances given by Demuria and Dreyden the latter in his final screen appearance before his death last year. The way these characters are drawn up matches the script in its allegorical leanings, written by a director with an anonymous collaborator which provides micro-portraits of gaping human sadness within a larger panorama of mass tragedy. But, what most delights about “The Antique” are matters of time and place and temperature that are evoked through Gorka Gomez Andreu’s hazy lens. They have once again added oxidized textures to the frame that emulate water damage and mirror rot making history become a painful present for all involved.
For More Movies Like The Antique (2024) Visit Solarmovie
