SINCE OTAR LEFT...
Directed by: Julie Bertuccelli.
Produced by: Yaël Fogiel.
Written by: Julie Bertuccelli & Bernard Renucci.
Director of Photography: Christophe Pollack.
Edited by: Emmanuelle Castro.
Released by: Zeitgeist.
Country of Origin: France. 102 min. Not Rated.
With: Esther Gorintin, Nino Khomassouridze & Dinara Droukarova. DVD Features: Making-of documentary (55 min.) Deleted scenes. Trailer. English & French subtitles.

Hands down the most heart-rending French film to be released in the U.S. in the last year. The wordless opening scene succinctly lays down the groundwork for the complex relationship between a family of three women: a frail but formidable grandmother, her middle-aged daughter, and obedient granddaughter. At a cafe, Eka (90-year-old Esther Gorintin), is eating her cake when the woman next to her, her daughter Marina, takes a bite without asking, much to Eka's disapproval. Caught literally in the middle is the youngest woman, Ada.

Otar, Eka's only son, has left the Republic of Georgia to work as an illegal laborer in Paris. He faithfully sends money to his family in crumbling Tblisis, and Eka eagerly awaits his phone calls. His room in the family’s country home is off limits to anyone but her. She practically turns it into a shrine. But when Marina receives a phone call from France, she keeps the terrible news from her elderly mother, lying to her as if nothing has happened to Otar. Ada reluctantly follows her mother's plan.

Since Otar Left..., director Bertuccelli's first feature, is filled with great acting moments. After receiving confirmation about Otar's fate at the French consulate, Marina and Ada hold their tears in check until they reach the subway platform, where the noise drowns out their meltdown. Even when extras stare into the camera (the film was shot on location), your attention is not distracted; the actors are so invested and concentrated. A single glare from Nino Khomassouridze as Marina carries with it the years of resentment of being second best to Otar in her mother's eyes. Khomassouridze is interesting even when she simply stares out into the horizon, figuring what next step to make. (Imagine Ava Gardner in the 1960s). As Ada, actress Dinara Droukarova follows the footsteps of French actress Sylvie Testud, offering an intelligent and visceral performance. The camera is mostly static, letting the characters drift in and out of frame. Thanks to the interaction among the actors, Otar is consistently compelling.

Unlike the recent Good Bye, Lenin!, where a familial ruse is perpetuated for the sake of an ailing matriarch, Otar is more consistent in tone, the humor dark and subtle. When the grandmother complains about the rising price of stamps, the postal clerk deadpans, "There's a church nearby. Go and light a candle." And as Marina and Ada's efforts to shield Eka from the truth become more complicated, this steadily-paced film becomes more and more gripping. It has been described as Chekhovian because of its wistfulness and the trio's pining for Paris, like Moscow in The Three Sisters. But with Otar’s sparse and straightforward dialogue, the similarities end.
April 29, 2004