“I am the man whose life and soul are torment” (pomegranates look as if they are bleeding. The knife bleeds too. The man squishes grapes with his feet. Tormented fish, flinch on ground, asking what sadness is).
“You abandoned us and went away, but we the living wrapped you in a cacoon, so that in the new world you would burst forth like a butterfly.” (So many lives to endure).
They reach the land of the dead. A manuscript turns out into ashes when lifted off the corpse. ALL THIS VIOLENCE | COMPLETE NORMALCY. All men and women have poker faces half the film has just violence, less emotion. So many torn pages. They are in search of something, a liable way to die maybe, the end discovery looks more like the reveal of Aphrodite and Aries’ love affair. Totally out of the context reference.
There is just so much of chaos and violence, but with a sweet instrumental music in the background.(chaos is chaos, gore is gore, no matter what lies below it)
Men dressed in black squish pomegranates in their mouths like wild foremen. A man looking like Jesus stares at us.
There are is a skull inside the armour.(the leaves of the book keep on flapping in the background) “in this healthy and beautiful life only I have been made to suffer. Why is it so?”
The woman with reddened hands stares at you. “We we’re searching for ourselves in others.”
The Cupid rolls as if it’s in heaven, in the hands of a woman with strings(power, ecstasy,control, terror,beauty)
Children dressed as Cupid’s drag the man towards the sheep, to die.
Arutin, the man looking like Jesus, dies. Prayers offered to forgive him for his own sins. His lifeline flashes with him being baptised like Achilles getting dripped in the river by his mother. “Brothers of mine, in soul and blood, grief, grief, grief has been sent to us from heaven today.”
Portrayal of death as a long and cultural practice. An open ground filled with burning candles with the man in the middle, lying beside a robe filled with crosses, birds thrown on the ground, a massacre created to help a man die, they flutter, they catch fire. Some die, some get wounded. Some fly away.
—The Color of Pomegranates | 1969 ‧ Drama/Music | dir. Sergei Parajanov
