User Reviews

Shadows of Our Forgotten Ancestors is set in Western Ukraine (Carpathian mountains) circa the 1860's. It was banned in the USSR because it emphasized the unique Ukrainian culture and in fact the language throughout the film was Ukrainian and not Russian. Plus the references to the Church and religion could not have helped. The story is deceptively simple. As a child, Ivan falls in love with his neighbor and fathers killers daughter Marichka. The first half of the film deals with that love and the second with Ivan's downfall after she dies in an accident.

Shadows would probably not appeal to someone looking for great acting, strong characterizations and emotional pull. But, it more than makes up for these deficiencies in its visual brilliance and authenticity of periodic detail. This is one of the most beautiful looking films ever made. The elaborate costumes, the folk songs and simple village life all create a world that you know just had to have existed. Not exactly commercial fare, Shadows is a stunningly beautiful looking film and in fact a lesson in old Ukrainain culture. I highly recommend this for art-house film fans.

I was brought up in a backward Polish village where the Ukrainian background was also present (I could in most part understand the language of the movie). This movie reminded me of my long forgotten childchood in a place where people didn't lock their houses and lived very simple lives. Magnificent visual effects, melodious folk music and probably the music of Sergei Prokofiev or someone close to his style complete the picture. I believe it is a universal story about love, life, death and that all things that are nice are turning into oblivion. I myself emigrated to America, then came back after some years, though changed and working mostly for Western companies. Though being generally a child of Western European and American culture I acknowledge that it pays to keep at least part of our original heritage. Miroslaw

The first great film from the greatest director in post-war Soviet Union. The experience is almost like being strapped to a malfunctioning rollercoaster, as a relatively straightforward story - young man falls in love with neighbour; she dies; he mourns; remarries; still loves dead mate (Wuthering Heights anyone?) - is violently attacked by hurling camera movements that reveal the most vertiginous spaces, both exterior and interior; bizarre angles (eg from a falling tree); a restless mix of music from Kusturica-like horn blowers, shards of modernism and thrilling Romanticism; content that blends myth, dreams, legends, folk tales etc.; and editing that bewilders and disrupts rather than matches and connects. A brilliant recreation of a forgotten culture and times that was a dangerous two-fingers to totalitarianism.

Good news/bad news. The good news is that Shadows of Forgotten Ancestors (Shadows), a truly exceptional film, is out in DVD format—and, the color reproduction was well worth waiting for. It's based on a masterpiece novel of the same name written by Ukrainian author (late 19th-early 20th centuries) Mykhailo Kotsiubynsky.

Journey into the past and experience the world-renowned Ukrainian Hutsul folklore and folkways that encyclopedists, historians, and authors depict by way of words and the film gives credence to via imagery, moods, symbolism, and sounds. Avenues you'll travel will branch off, giving you exposure to artistic embroideries, folk music, folk songs, ornate costumes, religious ceremonies, and traditional rituals (such as a traditional Hutsul wedding and a traditional Hutsul burial), along the way.

Folklife comes alive as you float down a river in a unique wooden raft, partake in Christmas festivities, encounter a sorcerer, and lots more--all against a backdrop of the magnificent Ukrainian Carpathian Mountains, where trees' shadows silhouette straight as they stretch for the stars and for the skies, where horses dress in tassels as they meander meadows and highlands, where Hutsuls converse across Carpathian Mountains via trembitas--and, where Ivan cannot forget his true love.

Shadows isn't your typical feel-good film--it's for the connoisseur of fine arts. If you want your senses stimulated, your imagination enlivened, and your knowledge of Hutsul culture expanded, then, this is the film for you!

Film director, Sergei Parajanov, was an Armenian born in Georgia. He insisted on filming Shadows in the Ukrainian language and refused to dub it into Russian. In his lifetime, he was persecuted by the Soviets, was arrested several times, spent years in prison, and his subsequent works were banned.

Later renamed Wild Horses of Fire for most foreign distributions, Shadows was Parajanov's first major work, and earned him international acclaim for its rich use of color and costume--it won six international film festival awards: London, San Francisco, Mar del Plata, New York, Montreal, and Thessaloniki.

Wikipedia states that Carl Sagan and Ann Druyan borrowed the title of their book, Shadows of Forgotten Ancestors: A Search for Who We Are, from the movie of that same name, which they state has little in common with the "haunting 1964 film."

The bad news is that a number of descriptive entries are inaccurate. Reading the misleading descriptions on the VHS/DVD covers give the impression that the film is Russian. This film is licensed by Kino from the Russian distributor Ruscico, which is probably why the descriptions refer incorrectly to Russian rather than Ukrainian.

1. The descriptions on both the VHS and DVD covers state, in part, "depiction of the harsh realities of Russian regional history...." The phrase "Russian regional history" is incorrect and should read: "Ukrainian regional history." Not only is the film in the Ukrainian language, the Hutsuls are Ukrainians living in the Ukrainian Carpathian Mountains, and the film is based on a novel by Ukrainian author Mykhailo Kotsiubynsky (1864-1913).

Update: This has now been changed to good news on Amazon.com: the copy now reads "Ukrainian regional history." However, anybody looking at the actual VHS or DVD covers will still see these erroneous descriptions; thus, these points still need to be highlighted as incorrect.

2. Correction is also needed in the reference: "And although its unsentimental depiction of the harsh realities of Russian (sic—as referenced in no. 1 above) regional history forced visionary director Sergei Pararadjanov (The Color of Pomegranates) into direct conflict with bureaucrats then controlling the Soviet film industry...."

Director Parajanov insisted on filming his adaptation in the Ukrainian language and refused to dub it into Russian--that's what caused his conflict with Communist authorities--not his portrayal of the "harsh realities of Russian (sic—as referenced in no. 1 above) regional history." However, anybody looking at the VHS or DVD covers will still see these erroneous descriptions; thus, these points still need to be highlighted as incorrect.

To see 45 photos depicting Hutsuls while learning more about their culture, please visit Amazon.com and click on "images" in Mandrivnyk's book review of Shadows of Forgotten Ancestors.

Shadows of Forgotten Ancestors is a must see/must own DVD--at the very least, it should appear worldwide on library shelves and in personal collections. This DVD definitely deserves 10-stars!—Mandrivnyk

P. S. To see over 650 photos (with notes) of Ukraine that I took in 1993 and 1994, please visit the profile page of Mandrivnyk (Arlington Heights, IL) on Amazon.com. Visit each review (to view the photos in sequential order); if you visit the image gallery, you'll see the photos in random order. They'll enhance your knowledge and understanding of Ukraine and Ukrainians.

´Shadows´ is one of the best movies i´ve ever seen. The filming is so beautiful that it constantly makes you wonder how they did it, remind you, it was made in 1964. The way the lead characters feel is constantly expressed in color and camera movement, in a way i´ve never seen before. Notice how the colors are full in the first, happy part of the film, and how they get faded more and more to an almost black and white teint along with grief of Ivan, the male lead. At the end it turns to a blood red fury and then there is nothing but the dead. The folk music, with very poetic lyrics also contributes a lot to the sphere in this film. Again, i never saw something like that before, normally i hate folk music, now it fitted perfectly. And then the ending,it´s so sad, i almost cried my eyes out. What an archievement, it´s the most beautifullest thing i´ve ever seen.

This is one of the best movies ever made!!! I don't think even that describes how strongly I feel for this movie and its director. In a world of cinematic rubbish Paradjanov stands as a warrior fighting for long lost cause; making a movie that actually transcends the viewer to the world the director is trying to create. It has the most unique camera angles and shots that were made in most amazing proximity. The richness of its photography will take you to the Carpathian Mountains and leave you astonished. This movie is full or drama, folklore and above all, it surpasses all the cinematic standards ever set for a motion picture. Made in the sixties, during Soviet regime, this movie was banned from the screen for it's symbolic context and references to religion. Starting from the opening scene to the very last one, it will keep you on the edge and it will exceed every expectation you have for it. You won't only watch it but you'll live it. If you're a true cinema lover watch this film...it'll change your life.

Ingmar Bergman once claimed that the childhood gift of a film projector inspired him to make movies. The feeling of magic in creating images in light upon the wall never left him; perhaps it revealed to him the perfect medium for living out dreams.

Watching "Shadows of Our Forgotten Ancestors" is like that moment of discovery: it makes us feel the same joy some have felt in discovering Bresson or Godard, the joy of finding out what film can do. It is understanding the director's joy in putting pictures together to tell a story (like a painter finding just the right colors to paint a myth). The movie, a sort of folk- Ukrainian "Romeo and Juliet," bursts with passion and physicality, chasing its protagonists through some of the most wild and beautiful landscapes ever caught on film. Yet the real romance here is between director Parajanov and the camera, which swoons and runs and bounds as ardently as any young lover, whether falling like a tree to the ground or spinning through a field or moping grief-stricken in a corner. Parajanov, like a honeymooning bridegroom, tries everything; he veers from silent-film subtitles to new-wave editing gimmicks to Russian iconography within seconds, and yet the tricks never feel anachronistic. From a torchlit search along a river to witchcraft in a lightning storm to the simple, painful clarity of the hero's eyes, the movie exudes a pagan wildness. (How he smuggled it past Soviet aesthetics is anybody's guess.)

This is a movie that makes you laugh not from comedy but from sheer pleasure; it is as warm, bold, tragic, profoundly silly, and above all human, as a Shakespeare romance. See it by any means necessary.

This is a haunting film filled with deeply moving imagery and symbolism. It is a well known art-house and film student favorite and for many excellent reasons. It is beautifully filmed and accurately portrays Ukrainian-Hutsul society with all it's mythology, superstition and rich culture. Of interest is that it was released in it's native Ukrainian language during one of the Soviet Union's cultural thaws under Khruschev. Not many films were allowed to even be produced in Ukrainian during the Soviet regime. Definitely worth seeing.

I had no expectations going into SHADOWS OF FORGOTTEN ANCESTORS, mostly because I knew very little about it beforehand. What I can say now is that it was more interesting from an artistic point of view than the actual story it tells. The basic plot is about a boy, Ivanko, who falls in love with a girl, Marichko. However, fate conspires to keep them apart and a fateful turn of events sets Ivanko down a course that changes his life forever. The elements I liked about the film, and what makes it stand out, are the cinematography, use of color, costumes, and the occasionally poetic image. The camera-work was rather improvisatory and free-moving with lots of high-angle shots, often pointed at the sky. There was also a conscious choice in one sequence to film in black-and-white for narrative reasons, to visually depict the protagonist's emotional state. As for imagery, there were a few sequences which stood out. One early scene showed blood dripping over the lens as a way to show someone dying, transitioning respectively into red horses and some kind of red plant. There was also creative use of double exposure in a scene where the characters are overlaid onto religious iconography. All of this was engaging and unique in a way that the story wasn't. I have a feeling that more familiarity with Ukrainian culture and folklore would have made the story a little more accessible, but I don't really think that the story was entirely the point. In fact, the acting in the film really isn't that good, and the film often felt like a filmed stage play where the intended audience is already familiar with the character archetypes and tropes. It also doesn't help that the film is episodic, with awkward and occasionally jarring scene transitions. Overall, this film's value (to me, at least) lies in its images and music. I don't really see the average film-watcher taking the time to see this, but this could potentially be worth it for the more adventurous person.

this film once seen is unforgettable,from the opening shot i knew i was in for something special,i wasn't let down on that score. the characters seem to leap of the screen in affect the film is alive. romeo & juliet in the carpathians a love story of children as adults as the people really are children,swirling hand held camera,unnatural colours,beautiful chromatic photography to set the tone of despair, paradjanov uses every trick in the book &then some.wonderful music & a sense of the times these people lived,the customs,clothes,religous iconography all come together in a wonderful film.one of my all time favourites.from a master.

Well, i don't really think this movie is the masterpiece most critics say it is, first of all because, according to me, you can hardly feel a sort of empathy towards the two main characters, their acting is quite poor and they always seem pretty distant, like if they were images more than characters. Moreover, the extreme beauty of some images, the camera "overwork" compared to the poverty of the acting and the lack of in-depth of the characters, makes the film look magnificent but also formalist, "manieriste" at the same time. Very interesting to watch, but most of the time emotionally dull and boring.. As a consequence, even the "maestria" of the camera get sometimes annoying.. (i'm not a native English-speaker... i wish i could tell it in better words..)

The first major movie by the Georgian-born Armenian director Sergei Paradjanov (he has made some movies before that few people have seen, and they are apparently in the conventional Soviet style). This is set in a village in Western Ukraine, in the forested Carphatian Mountains, among the Hutsul ethnic group. The movie has a great opening, as a man is killed by a falling tree over a snow-covered mountain, with a POV from the top of the tree. After that, you get Paradjanov, with its frantic mixture of ethnography, folklore, religion, odd camera movements, music, dance, color. Among all this, a sort of plot emerges, with the story of the crazy love between Ivan and Marichka, a couple belonging to feuding families, and of Ivan's life and marriage with another woman called Palagna after Marichka's tragic death. The era in which the action takes place is never determined, though one suspects it is some centuries ago. On the whole, I like Paradjanov's future feature The Color of Pomegranates better, which I think it's far more accomplished, but I this is very much well worth seeing to any cinema lover.

This is a historically and culturally significant movie, a cinematic "monument". As a Balkan myself, i acknowledge this movie as a part of our common cultural heritage, i mean, this movie's laments reminded me similar laments in my country. These are elements from a vanishing world. This movie should be preserved at all costs.

Having said that, at times, it was tiring to watch. There were many beautiful scenes/intense moments here and there but there were also times it dragged. During the last 30-40 minutes i was confused. Up until then, i understood what i was watching. Furthermore, truth be told, there were some unintenionally hilarious moments. For example, the scene where Marichka was screaming "IVAAAAAN" and fell from the cliff with a smile on her face. That was funny as hell.

In conclusion, i know that folktales are overdramatic, my country has a lot of them. But still, too many deaths and drama and sadness, that was so unbearable it became hilarious. No disrespect, this is another world/reality, nothing wrong with that. Still, it is not easy to watch and understand a movie like this nowadays. This movie is a paradox. A time capsule. Like an Indian dance in order for the Gods to bring rain in a wasteland. Of course i respect that. However, this has nothing to do with me.

Thank god for this man. He could have given us this one film and still changed the medium twice as most filmmakers have done in a lifetime. It deserves to be studied by anyone working today in movies and looking for rich multilayered intuition. This man has centuries in him.

The story is deceptively simple; young man loves, loses, and has to scramble on with life. But the way it burrows into you and speaks now, even though it's from another time, well, the way it's done is from another world.

To Western viewers, it will seem quite literally like something from another world. It profoundly speaks to me because I was lucky that me and him share a part of that other world, the one closer to the steppe. The difference between worlds is simple; in the West, you had the luxury of painting and theater, and music melded into that with opera, so when cinema rolled around a few centuries later, there was already an established reservoir of ways to see and imagine. The first films were little more than filmed plays with the camera assuming the role of the audience, later renovated in France (partly) through the influence of impressionist painting.

Parajanov was Armenian, which is to say from that world that ages ago was swept by invaders from the steppe. There was no lofty art allowed in the centuries of Ottoman blight, nowhere in the empire. There was no Rennaisance. Not there and not where I write this from. Our painting was religious icons. Our theater was song and dance. The collective soul had to pour that way, which is why they still persist and resonate in these parts; in the work of Kazantzakis, Bregovic, Kusturica and others, also why Western-influenced makers like Angelopoulos or Ceylan speak far less to the common folk.

You have to appreciate the significance of this in terms of cinema. There was already an established Soviet tradition in film in those days, Parajanov was a student at the prestigious VGIK after all. But, he chose to go even beyond Dovzhenko, a teacher of his at VGIK, who framed his films, back when he was still allowed by censors, as poetic remembrance of ancient past.

The memory of it was not enough, it had to have soul of its own now, what in the Spanish-speaking world is called the duende. It had to be a song that cuts deep and rises from bloody earth.

But, this is the genius of Parajanov. So a memory that is sang and danced out by the camera, and because he is not constrained by a visual tradition, the world of the film is freeform and spontaneous waters, an absolute marvel to watch. But he doesn't just photograph the iconography of the dance from the outside, simple pageantry.

That iconography is vivid and immediate in itself, you don't need special keys. Austere suffering saints look down at suffering. The mourning fire that burns in him and has to go out by itself. A lamb is caressed the way his soul needs it. Songs as hearsay overlain on scenes of life.

That is all melody to the song, lyrical cadence in terms of images. We'd be lucky if most filmmakers saw that far, most just center on story or character and parse out what beats result. Parajanov does neither, in a similar way to his friend Tarkovsky.

He provides deeply felt illogical machinery of that world to swim into, remember this is a world where sorcery is believed and wards off a storm, and prayer manifests as a lout from the woods looking for sex, in other words, we are not mere spectators to a gaudy visual dance from faraway times, the film is made so that we feel the urges and pulls of the world dancing around us. He pulls fabric to film from the ether around the edges of someome experiencing a story, the same deeply felt air that a singer cannot put to words and responds to with a song.

Look for the amazing finale. The film is bookended by death, but it's death that none of the individual scenes reasonably explain, it can only maybe have allusive extra-logical sense in being pieced by you. It is something that specifically has meaning that you let go. The thing is that him confronting or being confronted at the tavern, is, in itself, knowing about the sorcerer and his wife, knowing at the same instant that his father's death was the result of a similarly veiled and bubbling causality, knowing all in once that the universe, the cosmic dance, is not random but has inexplicable agency.

An invisible axe is spunning and cutting the tethers.

The way Parajanov filmed has been taken up by many, sure enough, Malick included. But we just haven't found more eloquent solutions to narrative, not in Malick, not in Lynch. I'm not just waxing. On top of everything else, the way causalities are overlain here is as intricate as I've seen in a film.

My first experience with Parajanov was with The Color of Pomegranates. While I loved the visuals, music, and the dancing, I had a lot of trouble wrapping my head around what the film meant. I'll probably revisit it sometime in the future as my experience with this film makes me wonder if it was even necessary to understand it. My next experience was with this film. Although I saw it a while back, I felt I didn't give it nearly enough credit, which I largely blame on how I was still new to feeling-driven films which relied heavily on the strengths of their visuals, camerawork, etc. I was more used to narrative-driven films. Having obtained some more experience with it though, I decided to revisit this one, leading me to develop a far deeper appreciation of it.

The first thing I noticed upon diving in other than being reminded of how memorable the opening scene is was the camerawork. At times, the camera movement proves to be swift and energetic in a way which I don't think I've seen in film before. It quickly darts from set piece to set piece in an environment, only focusing on someone or something for a couple seconds at a time before it darts off to something or someone new. Nature is also utilized by the camerawork in certain scenes, the most notable of which is of the adult Ivan and Marichka spending a couple moments with each other in the wild as they're surrounded by plants which partially obscure them throughout the scene, causing it to feel all the more tender.

Other stylistic merits include the brief transitions of the visual styles. While the transition from color to black and white may seem fairly obvious in terms of what it's trying to convey (it's brought about due to a notable scene in the first act), this viewing led to me finding more merits with it. The first black and white shot could easily be mistaken for a shot in a horror film. The way the wind repeatedly blows a door open and closed is a creepy image. Most of the black and white scenes after that masterful shot maintain a similar vibe. They mostly consist of showing Ivan in the aftermath of the incident, who doesn't utter a single word throughout this sequence (he doesn't speak that much throughout the remainder of the film as well). Instead, the dialogue consists of voice-overs by a number of characters discussing his current mental state, his loneliness, etc. It's a quietly unsettling sequence, which makes great usage of a few notable concepts. Other notable scenes include the slight visual distortions after the sorcerer strikes him near the final act, signifying the beginning of the end.

While the stylistic merits of this film are certainly strong and varied, I think the music also deserves a lot of credit. I'm not that familiar with this style of music, but it adds so much to the whole affair. I first heard of this film when I saw a segment of the Christmas scene in a youtube video. I was still fairly new to classic films and especially foreign films, but the brief snippet of music in that clip made me want to see it. What's special about the soundtrack is that it doesn't feel like it's just there to exist in the background or that it could be cut without losing much from the film. It's so expressive, so full of life that it feels like an integral part of the film, as if it's a character itself.

The best way I can sum up all the stylistic merits of the film is that the whole affair feels like folklore. Overall, this is definitely a great film.

Parajanov was inspired by Mykhailo Kotsiubynsky's classic novella telling a Hutsul story placed (like all Hutsul stories) in a world apart, with certitudes slippering toward a universe of dreams and tales becoming now and then certitudes (to turn then back, as flash ghosts do). A strange world revealing at every turn long forgotten meanings, sometimes reassuring, some other times nightmarish.

There is an English translation (published for the Canadian Institute of Ukrainian Studies by Ukrainian Academic Press), maybe there are also some others. As I have a particular interest for the Hutsul ways, I read several books with short stories written by a Romanian author, Casian Balabasciuc, and I warmly reccomend them: his stories paint a fantastic world, and they do it with deep knowldege.

Coming now back to the movie, the title describes very well, I think, Parajanov's credo: if we want to understand our true identity, we need to access the world of our ancestors; that world is hidden beneath the traditions, that act like shadows; thus we arrive at our inner truth only by crossing the layers of tales and legends, croyances and superstitions.

Is this world of ancestors the Paradise Lost? Not at all. Like in today's world, you find there the good and the bad, the beautiful and the ugly. It doesn't matter: it's essentially your world, your reality, your true meaning of life.

And it's the same regardless of the region where you are from, for the Hutsuls of the Carpathians, as well as for the Georgians, Armenians or Azeris of the Caucasus.

In a Carpathian village, Ivan falls in love with Marichka, the daughter of his father's killer. When tragedy befalls her, his grief lasts months; finally he rejoins the colorful life around him, marrying Palagna. She wants children but his mind stays on his lost love.

The film is highly symbolic, making frequent use of religious and folkloric images that include crosses, lambs, graves, and spirits. The film also uses color to represent mood. During Ivan's period of mourning, black and white film stock is used. In other scenes, colors are often muted, but provide a contrast to vivid use of red and yellow. On its release, the film's presentation contrasted with the common socialist realism style that had government approval. After refusing to change the film, Parajanov was soon blacklisted from Soviet cinema.

I don't think i understand all the symbolism, but I loved the use of color. It is muted, yes, but also just looks sad and impoverished. Part of this may be intentional, part of it not so much. I suspect that the Russian film industry (much like the Italian film industry), was always behind the times in their use of film techniques and technology. Perhaps I misunderstand, but in the West (i.e. America), anything between Eisenstein and Tarkovsky seemingly does not exist. This film ought to be the exception.

magic. search of sense. rituals. love story. sacrifice as beginning and heart of happiness far from earthy world. a fresco. a poem. basic testimony in which fragility is part of a way to define life. movie like a picture book, it is , in same time, fairy-tale and smell of childhood cook. but, in essence, only masterpiece of a director for who the political regime is more small in front with the light of profound truth. a truth as a tablecloth for Eastern Eve. crumbs of myth, soul of old story, force of tradition, delicate shadow of time. resistance to hypocrisy in a pure form. and web of nature as human skin. that is all. for East Europe - invitation to remember the roots. for the others - a letter. old, nice, with strange seductive letters of a ordinary hand.

After I saw "Pomegranates" I looked very much forward to seeing this film. As others have commented, it is visually astounding - the entire work. It is also very foreign. The film takes place in the Ukraine and the language is Ukrainian, the action taken from folk stories occurs centuries before in a culture as foreign to the Western European mind as if it had been shot in the Far East with little attempt to explain it as it rolls along. I am a professional performing musician and one of the valuable lessons I've learned over the years was that the public can take only so much "foreigness" in an artistic work before the brain tunes it out - or shuts it down. The sound track was the culprit here where crying became wailing and bawling, singing became intoning at best or screeching and people tended to scream rather than talk with each other. It was a very loud track and became unpleasant and over-stressed with little interruption. The noise in itself was absolutely exhausting. True, these were unfamiliar times with unfamiliar people and unusual instruments and music, but as I mentioned above, the mind tunes them out, whether we like it or not.

Curtis Stotlar

Sergei Parajanov's Teni Zabytykh Predkov aka Shadows of Forgotten Ancestors (1964) is original, surprising film, baroque in style and extraordinary fast. It uses elements of animation (blood streams turn into flying red horses), changes from B/W to color, and, is without a doubt experimental, ahead if its time cinema. You can practically feel dizziness from the rapid and unusual camera angles and you will be mesmerized by the colors of the traditional costumes, sounds of the folk songs, and by the sheer magic of Paradjanov's world. Made over 40 years ago it is still impressive. I can imagine how much ahead of time it was upon releasing.

The story about Guzul guy Ivan who loved a girl, lost her forever, suffered deeply, tried to forget her by marrying another woman, could not make that woman happy and was ultimately betrayed by her, is told in incredibly triumphant exuberant, and poetic way. The story of star-crossed lovers has been explored in art, literature, and cinema many times, and it is not surprising then the first half of the film sounds as rephrases of "Romeo and Juliette". But Shadows is interesting not only because of the story. Strange, but compelling mixture of Christianity and pagan rituals of Carpathian bewitched mountaineers, gives to the film special dimension. There are not many directors who would be able to create the ethnographic cinema which is at the same time gripping drama/legend/love story. Parajanov -- one of such directors and his film looks feels absolutely seamless, wholesome, and organic.

The DVD which I saw includes among the bonus features the documentary "Andrei Tarkovsky and Sergei Parajanov. The Islands". The 40 minutes long film explores the similarities in the work of two very different but outstanding artists who deeply loved and admired each other's Art. Tarkovsky said that Parajanov was absolutely free in the way he expressed himself in his films, nobody could compare with him in this freedom of expression, lust for life, and readiness to go to the end in order to make film according his vision. Parajanov, in turn, thought of Tarkovsky as genius from the very first feature film, Ivanovo Detstvo. The film included the interviews with both Artists' friends and figures of culture from the former USSR. The most valuable part of the film is the montage of the clips from the films of both directors. Seeing them next to each other, makes a stunning viewing. You can't help noticing how different yet close in their vision and expression they were. I highly recommend watching another bonus feature, Photo album in Memory of Sergey Paradjanov. Film and Collage. It shows the photographs from the different periods of the Artist's life, starting with him as a young boy, then - handsome artistic man, and finally resembling a very wise and very sad Santa Claus. The most interesting are the examples of Parajanov's collages, true works of art.

Sergei's first glimpse of experimentation with visual poetry and his love for music, culture and history. Shadows of Forgotten Ancestors exploded onto the worldwide scene with its astonishingly rich and unique visual imagery full of folklore, traditional costumes, dances, sounds, music and an incredibly dynamic camera. The story follows the life and death of Ivan, whose childhood sweetheart slips from a mountain trail and drowns in the river below. Ivan grows morose and secretive, but finally does settle down and marry a strikingly beautiful woman. Even then he's not happy: They can't have children, and in their superstition they consult witches and the supernatural. Ivan himself becomes obsessed with the notion that his first sweetheart will be miraculously restored to him. Yet the real romance here is between director Parajanov and the camera, who swoons, runs, and leaps as fiercely as any young lover, whether he falls like a tree to the ground or spins in a meadow.

I hate looking at dead human bodies. I hate funerals and especially lengthy funeral processions. I think when a person dies; the body should be disposed of as quickly and as inconspicuously as possible. This was the reason enough for me to dislike this movie. I do not appreciate its obsession with death and funeral rituals. I can imagine some viewers may find it worthy of watching, not me.

What else is in the movie? Sad, monotonous folk songs, folk dances, awful musical score are supposed to fit with that (unspecified) historical period; unnaturally looking costumes clumsily worn by the actors and extras; practically no plot to speak of, and no meaningful dialog; beautiful mountains and woods shot with irritatingly jerky moving camera; flashing colors from time to time for no reason, surprisingly inept, unprofessionally looking and talking actors.

*** for (mostly unsuccessful) effort