22/05/2023 - CANNES 2023: Elene Naveriani’s third feature follows a 48-year-old single woman who falls in love for what seems like the first time

Ekaterine (“Eka”) Chavleishvili and Temiko Chinchinadze in Blackbird Blackbird Blackberry

Blackbird Blackbird Blackberry [+see also:
trailer
interview: Elene Naveriani
film profile] is a film as charming as its title suggests. At times contemplative and always exploratory, the third feature by Georgian director Elene Naveriani, which has screened in this year’s Cannes Directors' Fortnight, tells a bittersweet love story in order to present a much sweeter one of self-love. We accompany 48-year-old Etero (Ekaterine ["Eka"] Chavleishvili) on a journey towards self-possession. How it all begins, though, is rather odd. When we first see the protagonist, she’s picking berries at the far end of a village, somewhere in Georgia. Suddenly, she spots a beautiful blackbird perched on the branch in front of her; they exchange glances. Captivated by the bird, Etero slips down a ravine, holding on for dear life; she then climbs back up. This peculiar opening hints at a change in the narrative before we even know what that is.

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During this near-death experience, something in her shifts. Etero looks bewildered, and a newfound curiosity changes her gait, her touch, the way she simply is. The symbolic fall foreshadows her falling in love with Murman (Temiko Chinchinadze), the man who delivers detergents to her store. She has a renewed zest for life – a sexual awakening. But just as the story starts to look predictable, the director surprises us, again and again. Naveriani’s skill in circumventing the more conventional psychological cues leaves room for the freedom – and responsibility – to give us a character we would wish to empathise with, even if we don’t have to. Building a non-conforming protagonist who is not radical, edgy or contrarian just for the sake of it is no easy task. Much of this triumph is, of course, down to Chavleishvili (who also starred in Naveriani’s debut, Wet Sand [+see also:
film review
trailer
interview: Elene Naveriani
film profile]), who leads the film with gravitas and a good dose of tenderness. She makes the viewer want to be around her as she digs into the gigantic mille-feuille she single-handedly consumes upon every trip to the city, or when she turns on the radio for the first time in ages, softly swaying to the music, all alone in her kitchen.

While it’s hard for her fellow villagers to imagine a woman who is single by choice, Etero’s presence is secretly cherished as a corrective to keep challenging the norm. Despite often being the cause of gossip, our heroine towers above the rest with the dignity of a cultivated, self-assured person. This is why it seems unfair to talk about self-discovery, when she knows precisely who she is. With the arrival of love and the sensual discoveries it entails, some doubt has to creep in. But it’s delightful to be able to enjoy Chavleishvili’s masterful performance, a mix of composure and surrender.

As a director, Naveriani is attuned to the complexities of both the human heart and the body. Blackbird Blackbird Blackberry certainly does not treat bodies as secondary: both Etero and Murman have a decisive physical presence, even in their awkward conversational exchanges. Then there are the sex scenes, which radiate an intense erotic charge: this may as well be the first real sexual encounter for either of them, or it could be the last. Imbued with such power, these sequences suggest that mutual and self-discovery are not at odds with each other.

At its very end, the film perhaps offers too much of a traditional resolution that detracts somewhat from the novelty and freshness that has guided it throughout, but at least the final shot is ambiguous enough. That said, Blackbird Blackbird Blackberry remains a work of incredible depth, intelligent and intuitive, which can teach us a thing or two about finding pleasure in life, even if we think that ship has sailed.

Blackbird Blackbird Blackberry was produced by Switzerland’s Alva Film, Georgia’s Takes Film and German outfit Heimatfilm. Totem Films handles its international sales.