“The Antique is a striking series of profound observations of the human condition, carefully curated by a truly compassionate filmmaker.”
Logic dictates that history is usually contained in texts dedicated to outlining the past. However, there is an argument to be made that the most sincere and authentic versions of the past are found in the real world, in the places and objects that have travelled through time, occasionally changing to fit the surrounding environment but essentially remaining remnants of a bygone era. In her directorial feature debut The Antique, Rusudan Glurjidze approaches this idea in the form of a story of two individuals who encounter each other by chance, but prove to have a deeper connection based on both the space they share and the objects that occupy it with them. The film is set in 2006, which the brief prologue indicates was around the time when a staggering number of immigrants primarily from countries such as Georgia were deported from Russia, forced to return home rather than being able to seek refuge in places such as St. Petersburg, which is where this particular film is set. A beautifully directed and genuinely impactful social realist drama crafted in an effort to not only provide insights into this particular moment in the past, but also explore the act of self-reflection, The Antique is a striking series of profound observations of the human condition, carefully curated by a truly compassionate filmmaker who sets out to explore the sometimes ambiguous but fascinating connections between the past and the present.
Despite framing itself around a particular moment in the past, namely the mass deportation of Georgian immigrants from Russia, these events surprisingly only occur in the final few moments of The Antique. It uses the preceding two hours to introduce a marginally related but mainly independent story, with the real-world events only acting as a backdrop to the plot, rather than propelling it forward. The core of the film is essentially the story of two profoundly lonely individuals – a young immigrant looking for a place to stay in St. Petersburg and the misanthropic old man who owns the apartment she purchases but who insists on living out his days there – who come across each other by chance, and who eventually work through their differences to find common ground. This is a truly humane film, and how the director crafts the shifting relationship between these two strangers is poignant and compelling. It takes the form of a somber but heartfelt exploration of human connection focused around the somewhat common trope of the odd couple scenario, where two diametrically opposed individuals are forced to set aside their differences and eventually discover an unexpected kindred spirit. It is through this approach that Glurjidze is not only able to make keen observations into the variances between the two cultures, but also provide two of the most beautifully moving performances of the year by Sergey Dreiden and Salome Demuria, who take what could have been one-dimensional characters and reconfigure them into fully-formed, complex individuals that act as the vessels through which this poetic story is told.
There are countless bespoke layers that factor into The Antique, which is as much about its characters as it is the places they occupy. The film is a fascinating exploration of St. Petersburg, a location that is not commonly used as a film setting, and we find that beneath the stunningly beautiful, ice-covered cityscapes there are many intriguing secrets hinting at Russia’s challenging history, the snow hiding the scars of the past. Throughout the film Glurjidze conveys a clear message, which is that the past is attached to places and objects, which act as the bridge between eras, and thus only through embracing and understanding these elements can we truly engage with history. This film can often veer towards featuring very harsh and intense social and cultural commentary, which is why the brief but memorable interludes of gentle humor are so integral, as they soften the immense blow of the underlying themes and the harsh reality that they represent. This only provides support to Glurjidze’s vision, which is as much about the tone as it is the storyline; and that heartfelt and genuine storyline feels so deeply personal, as if it is being handwoven by someone reflecting on their culture and its history in a way that is forthright but also deeply affectionate. These moments do not distract from the brutality that occurs in other scenes, but they ultimately prove to be focused on finding the balance between different elements, which creates a poignant and well-crafted drama.
The Antique is undoubtedly a simple film, but rather than being overly conventional or uninteresting, it knows precisely how to handle its story and underlying themes so that it is elevated by its traditional nature, rather than limited, a challenging feat but one that Glurjidze nonetheless achieves. This film tells a story that many of us outside of the region may not have been aware of or understood entirely, and while it is far from definitive about the events and the circumstances that surrounded them, it offers some remarkable insights into a challenging moment. It gives a voice to the victims while not expending too much energy on overwrought political commentary that requires much more nuance to leave an impression, instead being focused on the human element. The structure of the film is somewhat conventional, but it only proves that a straightforward premise delivered in an unfurnished, direct manner in which the priority is on the people that occupy the story can result in an impactful and immediately powerful work, especially one steeped so heavily in history. Glurjidze is clearly a vital voice in contemporary cinema, and both her attention to detail in terms of visual compositions and her prowess as a storyteller are integral elements to the radical success of this outstanding and deeply compelling film that is based around the poetry of everyday life and the small connections that bind us together.