Characters like Sariyya are now on trend
It is necessary to make an effort for realization of good things. As these efforts are repeated, the thing you struggle gradually becomes the norm. This expression might be a thought attributed to Leo Tolstoy, if my memory serves me right. But in fact, it represents the feminist movement in Azerbaijan, a years-long, relentless struggle marked by physical assaults and verbal abuses. From poets and bloggers to deputies and ministers, whoever thinks to have the right to address society, even he/she expresses the letter “w” of the word “woman”, their immediate reactions, severe critique, meticulous examination of female characters in films, stories and beyond, the annual “March” 8 rallies persistently held in spite of insults and mockery, radical slogans and the resounding march “The streets are ours” have brought society around by provoking, and their sufferings gradually begin to yield fruit. These were precisely what I thought while watching Alikhan Rajabov’s feature film “Sariyya” for the first time in a packed cinema hall.
On my second viewing in an open mind, the cinema hall was once again full despite the absence of any discounts. Viewers again grew anxious over the protagonist’s fate, shared the familiar events they had directly witnessed. At last, the audience was astounded by the figures they saw when the screen displayed the annual statistics on crimes committed against women in Azerbaijan. And still, the sense of gratification – even it is faint – arisen from struggle and yielding results…
“Sariyya” is the story of 14-year-old adolescent girl (Nazı Heydarova) living in a village, who desires to continue her education. Her family perceives her as a means of escaping from poverty, and wants to marry her off to Rakif (played by Niyaz Ilyasoghlu), a wealthy man, significantly older than her.
The story structured upon conventional narrative begins with an introduction to Sariyya and her family — their lives, struggles, and dreams. Sariyya’s family consists of her father, Idrak (played by Alikhan Rajabov), a shepherd incapable to seek a job in the village; her mother (played by Gunay Ahmad) – a housewife who dreams of marrying her daughter off to a wealthy man for a better life; her brother, who spends his time vagabonding in the streets, swaggering at his sister, and living with the yearning to one day drive an expensive car; and their grandmother, whose presence is marked only by the sound of her persistent cough throughout the film. In the initial scene where we see the whole family together, they are eating their last potatoes by the light of a kerosene lamp, in Idrak’s own words. (This visuality unavoidably reminds us the painting “The Potato eaters” by Van Goth). Thus, the film introduces the initial link in a chain of causality, highlighting that the addressed problem is deeply arisen from social issues like poverty and illiteracy. Little Sariyya tries to break the chain and to change the consequences, a course of events. She fights wholeheartedly and passionately – both literally and figuratively – so that she transforms her dreams into viewers’. We, too, wish for Sariyya’s victory living through the same feelings alongside her. The film director avoids narrative clichés in depicting her protagonist’s struggle, and is capable to create a sense of unpredictability and to hold the viewer in tension up to the final frame.
He also reflects Sariyya’s challenging to both Rakif and morally decayed thought like “fear of social disgrace, public shame”, dancing atop the table at her engagement, standing firm under no circumstances, the formidable character of an adolescent girl in the film. Many mise-en-scenes were set so that always either a wall or closed windows stand between Sariyya and her relatives. This emphasizes underscores Sariyya’s status as the “black sheep” both within her family and the environment where she belongs.
Regrettably, elementary mistakes were made in visual composition and lighting of the film (cinematographer Iman Imanov) and natural light was unconsidered. Particularly in scenes shot against windows, the lighting, in professional jargon we say, “bursts” (overexposes), and the protagonists’ faces fall into darkness. In the scene where Sariyya is being threatened from outside by her father and brother, despite the window is on the left side of the classroom, the girl desperately looks at the right—toward the wall. Perhaps, the director has intended to shatter the fourth wall in this moment, with the actor gazing directly at the camera, effectively communicating silently with the viewer. However, it appears like a mistake was made during the editing and the sequencing process of shots.
Dramatic structure of the film is not likewise free from imperfections. In the opening scene – during geography lesson – Sariyya discusses the topic of drought, and subsequently cites as reason that drought transforms into a natural disaster to persuade her parents to allow her participation in an Olympiad. This is presumably an attempt made by Alikhan Rajabov, in addition to early marriage, to draw attention to ecological issues as well. However, Sariyya’s issue of drought is not grounded in dramaturgical structure in any way, so the story becomes an unrelated element.
Alternatively, the teacher, visiting to inquire why Sariyya isn’t attending school, witnesses the wedding and leaves after uttering something for the sake of formality about the law and the police. These belong to abovementioned unrelated element as well. In fact, such kinds of narrative gaps serve to emphasize the protagonist’s triumph without any external support, but the principles of screenwriting are rigorous. Every action should have logical fundament and consequence (surely considering factors like a structure of the story, genre, filmmaker’s authorial intent, and stylistic approach). If narrative logic is absent, it becomes a flaw.
I would also like to make a few remarks about actors’ performances. Young actress became acquainted with the camera at her early ages, appeared in the films titled “The Flask of Poison” and “Meeting with Sema”. In the role of Sariyya, she is quite at ease before the camera; above all, she completely comprehends her performance, and conveys the character’s anger and desperate to the viewers through her glances.
The film’s antagonist, Rakif, is a one-dimensional character who masks his pedophilic tendencies under the guise of the custom and tradition; we immediately recognize his true nature from the earliest scene. Having already proven his talent in portraying antagonistic roles, Niyaz Ilyasoghlu likely did not encounter significant difficulty in embodying this character. Incidentally, Niyaz Ilyasoghlu is a remarkably talented actor, and it would be intriguing to watch him take on a completely different kind of role.
In general, one of the most difficult challenges that the cast faces is regional dialect. Although this dialect sounds unnatural at Alikhan’s expertise in portraying diverse character types in short video formats and Niyaz’s steady performance in dialect-speaking roles, it becomes immediately evident that the dialect sits uneasily in the mouths of both Nazı Heydarova and Gunay Ahmad in the least.
Despite all the aforementioned imperfections, “Sariyya” still is a film having a considerable social impact. Other elements do not detract from the viewing experience, as Sariyya’s struggle commands complete attention. We need such screen works. Viewers’ reactions in packed cinema halls, their empathy with the fictional protagonist and their support for her, along with the growing popularity of the television seriesCitizen A which belongs to the same category, serve as evidence. In the places we visited within the framework of regional film screenings organized by AUK, people – mainly women – spoke most frequently about Citizen A, stating that they became more aware of their rights thanks to this series. Therefore, the existence of such works like “Sariyya” and “Citizen A” are necessary. It might not have been bad idea if the film “Sariyya” had been screened not only in the city that remain relatively detached from such issues but also in the regions intimately entwined with the very problem the film confronts.
Aygun Aslanli