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'Vodka's' not quite pink lemonade

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  • 'Vodka's' not quite pink lemonade

    'Vodka's' not quite pink lemonade
    By Gary Arnold

    Washington Times
    Dec 24 2004


    "Vodka Lemon," opening exclusively at the Landmark E Street Cinema
    tomorrow, looms as a marginal outreach project for novelty-seeking
    art-house patrons. Absorbed in the texture of life in a snowbound,
    impoverished and essentially disheartening village somewhere in
    Kurdish Armenia, the movie is deficient in dramatic incident and
    variety, stimulating social observation or lively character
    interplay.
    The work of a Kurdish Iraqi exile named Hineer Saleem, who left
    his homeland 20 years ago and now resides in Paris, the movie
    attempts to generate whimsical and even hopeful notes of humor
    despite a setting that favors the static and morose. The title
    alludes to a roadside tavern that seems to deal exclusively in
    bottles of Vodka Lemon, presumably a fortifier along trackless
    wastes. Actually, it's more in the nature of an open-air counter,
    similar to a roadside produce stand.







    The boss of the watering hole arrives at one point to inform his
    bundled-up waitress, a middle-aged widow named Nina (Lala
    Sarkissian), that business is too slow to justify her employment.
    This doesn't come as a total surprise, bearing in mind the adage
    "location, location, location."
    A lugubrious matchmaker, Mr. Saleem intends Nina as a potential
    companion for a somewhat older widower named Hamo (Romen Avinian), a
    white-haired former soldier who seems to be selling off all his
    remaining possessions while awaiting financial assistance in vain
    from a son who has migrated to France. Another son, evidently beyond
    hope as a donor, is said to live in Samarkand. A sullen third
    specimen called Dilovan (Ivan Franck) is in camera range; he still
    lives in the village, nursing grievances about the fixer who has
    promised to arrange a job somewhere in the vast reaches of the former
    Soviet empire.
    Hamo is wistful about the departure of the Russians, who at least
    kept up the dole. We observe that he is a less-than-wily bargainer
    when putting his own goods up for grabs: a wardrobe, a Soviet
    television monitor and an old uniform go for about 20 percent of his
    initial asking price. Hamo and Nina often share a bus ride during
    daily trips to the cemetery, obviously a symbolic as well as a
    picturesquely bleak landmark.
    There are amusing deadpan details, particularly the local
    fondness for posting chairs outside in order to share a nice cold
    sit, smoke and, on rare occasions, chat. A drafty-looking community
    center allows some shelter for socializing, but the liveliest
    communal activity appears to be waiting for Hamo to get a call from
    Paris. A small herd of sheep is linked metaphorically to the docile
    populace, and an enigmatic horseman does four or five enigmatic
    ride-throughs.
    Ultimately, Mr. Saleem wraps up this tour of stagnating
    small-town Armenia by playing the magic realism card. Nina, Hamo and
    her piano share a wistful vigil on the side of the road before
    hitting the road, in a physically impossible way. Still, the mobility
    itself is encouraging. The resale value of their hometown looks nil.
    A getaway could be just the ticket. Maybe Paris is in the market for
    piano duets.
    **
    TITLE: "Vodka Lemon"
    RATING: No MPAA Rating (adult subject matter, with fleeting
    violence and sexual allusions)
    CREDITS: Written and directed by Hiner Saleem. Cinematography by
    Christophe Pollock. Production design by Albert Hamarash. Music by
    Michel Korb. In Armenian, Kurdish, Russian and French with English
    subtitles
    RUNNING TIME: 88 minutes
    WEB SITE: www.newyorkerfilms.com
    MAXIMUM RATING: FOUR STARS
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