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Daily Iowan , IA
March 7 2005
The land where lemons taste like almonds
Film Review: Vodka Lemon
By David Frank - The Daily Iowan
Published: Monday, March 7, 2005
** out of ****
Vodka Lemon opens on an amusing shot of a sick geezer lying on his
bed as it's being pulled along a snowy road. This extreme bed
sledding concludes at the village's cemetery, where the man removes
his dentures and begins playing a squawky wind instrument for a
funeral. Quirkiness and misery butt heads throughout Vodka Lemon as
the film's characters carve out meager livings in a poverty-stricken
Armenian village that's but a speck on the barren white landscape.
Hamo (Romen Avinian), a leather-faced widower, spends his days
selling the sentimental belongings of his past for chump-change and
visiting his wife's tombstone. Even outside the graveyard, he still
talks to his wife's portrait located on his otherwise bare
living-room wall. Hamo lives a lonely existence with only a few
neighbors, a lowlife son, and an apathetic granddaughter to keep him
company while they all eagerly wait for Hamo's other son to send
money from Paris.
Nina (Lala Sarkissian), a middle-aged widow and single mother, also
treks to the cemetery on a daily basis. She works at a roadside booze
stand (that looks similar to a Dairy Queen) that specifically sells
Vodka Lemon - the almond-flavored drink of choice for the film's
characters. Why does it tastes like almonds? Because that's the
Armenian way, according to Nina. Yet, even with a job, Nina still
finds it difficult to pay bus fare for her daily graveyard venture.
After taking notice of Nina's inability to shell out cash for bus
rides, Hamo begins to pay her way. Eventually the two characters
begin smiling and glancing at one another like two sheepish kids with
a schoolyard crush; it's a romance of small gestures.
However, Vodka Lemon meanders into half-baked and separate subplots
involving Hamo's granddaughter getting hitched and Nina's pianist
daughter secretly whoring herself out to a fat boar of a man. Not
only do these scenes overstay their welcome with their extraneous
nature and labored construction, they also cut the legs out from
underneath the film with surprising violence.
>>From start to the finish, Vodka Lemon stuffs oddity into its
narrative - such as an unidentified horse rider who gallops in and
out of frame during unexpected moments. And it seems director Hiner
Saleem desires to run two opposing atmospheres throughout the film -
one fluttering with whimsy and the other sunk deep into unyielding
gloom - but he never finds a way in blending them so the quirkiness
isn't forced and unnatural when placed next to the morose. What we're
left with is an oil-and-water tone in which neither of the two
elements are compelling.
March 7 2005
The land where lemons taste like almonds
Film Review: Vodka Lemon
By David Frank - The Daily Iowan
Published: Monday, March 7, 2005
** out of ****
Vodka Lemon opens on an amusing shot of a sick geezer lying on his
bed as it's being pulled along a snowy road. This extreme bed
sledding concludes at the village's cemetery, where the man removes
his dentures and begins playing a squawky wind instrument for a
funeral. Quirkiness and misery butt heads throughout Vodka Lemon as
the film's characters carve out meager livings in a poverty-stricken
Armenian village that's but a speck on the barren white landscape.
Hamo (Romen Avinian), a leather-faced widower, spends his days
selling the sentimental belongings of his past for chump-change and
visiting his wife's tombstone. Even outside the graveyard, he still
talks to his wife's portrait located on his otherwise bare
living-room wall. Hamo lives a lonely existence with only a few
neighbors, a lowlife son, and an apathetic granddaughter to keep him
company while they all eagerly wait for Hamo's other son to send
money from Paris.
Nina (Lala Sarkissian), a middle-aged widow and single mother, also
treks to the cemetery on a daily basis. She works at a roadside booze
stand (that looks similar to a Dairy Queen) that specifically sells
Vodka Lemon - the almond-flavored drink of choice for the film's
characters. Why does it tastes like almonds? Because that's the
Armenian way, according to Nina. Yet, even with a job, Nina still
finds it difficult to pay bus fare for her daily graveyard venture.
After taking notice of Nina's inability to shell out cash for bus
rides, Hamo begins to pay her way. Eventually the two characters
begin smiling and glancing at one another like two sheepish kids with
a schoolyard crush; it's a romance of small gestures.
However, Vodka Lemon meanders into half-baked and separate subplots
involving Hamo's granddaughter getting hitched and Nina's pianist
daughter secretly whoring herself out to a fat boar of a man. Not
only do these scenes overstay their welcome with their extraneous
nature and labored construction, they also cut the legs out from
underneath the film with surprising violence.
>>From start to the finish, Vodka Lemon stuffs oddity into its
narrative - such as an unidentified horse rider who gallops in and
out of frame during unexpected moments. And it seems director Hiner
Saleem desires to run two opposing atmospheres throughout the film -
one fluttering with whimsy and the other sunk deep into unyielding
gloom - but he never finds a way in blending them so the quirkiness
isn't forced and unnatural when placed next to the morose. What we're
left with is an oil-and-water tone in which neither of the two
elements are compelling.