Corn Island (2014) User Reviews (14)

Man versus Nature. Man versus Man. A Thousand-year story

[steven-leibson · 8/10 · 8 March 2015]

Every year, the level of the Enguri River drops to uncover islands with fertile river-bottom soil. Locals can temporarily claim these islands for a season to grow a subsistence crop. An old man with one oar in an old wooden boat slowly makes his way to just such an island. He paces it off, digs the earth, tastes the soil, decides it will do, and marks his claim with a scrap of cloth on a stick. He leaves and then returns again and again, bringing supplies including scrap lumber to build a cabin with a thatched roof and then to plant corn with the help of his granddaughter who's in her early adolescence. Almost no words are spoken.

A big part of this film is thus man versus nature. Will nature allow the old man and his granddaughter to scratch a living from this transient plot of land? This part of the film might as well be prehistoric because it's so primitive. Intentionally so.

There's another part of the film caused by the island's location: in no-man's land between the warring country of Georgia and Abkhazia, a breakaway territory. This off-screen conflict brings soldiers from both sides into the film and we have man versus man versus man.

The film takes its time in all things. It's slaved to nature's pace and the growing corn. Things unfold slowly. Some of them aren't explained. That's the way it is in real life.

If you like artistic films with beautiful cinematography, this is a film for you. If you're looking for complex ideas and twisted plots, look elsewhere. This is a primal film about conflicts in nature, conflicts between men.

Profound and meditative on the absurdity of land ownership and subsequent conflict.

[Sergeant_Tibbs · 8/10 · 8 October 2014]

Every spring the Inguri River, which forms the boundary between Georgia and Abkhazia, washes down rocks and soil creating tiny islands. Local peasants leave the riverbanks for the firm, fertile island soil to grow corn through the summer before they are eroded away by winter. Georgia's submission for Best Foreign Language Film Corn Islanddirected by George Ovashvili follows a nondescript ageing farmer and his naive granddaughter as they migrate to an island and cultivate a year's crop. During such time, border patrols from both Georgia and Abkhaz pass by, causing tensions to rise between each other while the protagonists are caught in the middle.

Corn Island provokes an idea most memorable in the finale of Jean Renoir's The Grand Illusion – this illusion being the definitions of land ownership. Through nature's creation of a temporary island and then the Old Man's claim of his own little country, the film poetically points out the irrationality of conflict over differences from being born on different pieces of land. It's thoroughly profound, but one only teased in the otherwise sparse film. Ovashvili's approach is very reminiscent of the work of Ki-duk Kim, especially Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter and Spring, with the tranquil relationship with nature, meditative pace and limited dynamics, but equal in their beauty.

The narrative is procedural, simply watching the characters build a hut, plant the seeds and farm the crop. It's lethargic, but engaging. For the most part, the characters are blank slates, but it's about what they represent. It's all about the elements, and they're always fragile and unbalanced, as the film works on the natural tension of impending and inevitable expiration. Tensions do rise when the soldiers pass by in the boats, and there is character development with the granddaughter, who's in the throes of puberty. As she catches their eye and they to her, her internal conflict about her desires for outsiders illustrates the fateful and fatal sparks between nations.

The film's elegance is owed to the precise and impressive aesthetics. Veteran Hungarian cinematographer Elemer Ragalyi's serene gliding photography captures the world on a grand but desolate scale. In essence, the film is a soundscape, with no dialogue and hardly any score until near the end. The sharp sound work creates a palpable atmosphere like last year's All is Lost. The film does suffer in its rare moments of dialogue as Ovashvili is more confident in the naturalistic poetry of man against man and man against nature but those scenes don't drag the film down. Corn Island is a slow-burning but well-executed thought- provoking film that's worth watching, especially for fans of art cinema on the lookout for fresh faces.

8/10

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Nature in Cinema

[sanserguz · 7/10 · 16 January 2015]

George Ovashvili's Corn Island is an auteuristic work that finds its balance between men and nature. Through the lives of an Abkhazian grandfather and his granddaughter, we find our place in the cycle of life. First you work the soil to feed yourself, then when you die you become part of the nature. This cycle reminds me of a Kim Ki-Duk film "Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter... and Spring" which is a brilliant film that attains nature from its characters' lives.

An Abkhazian peasant (Ilyas Salman) and his granddaughter (Mariam Buturishvili) are living on one of many islands created by Enguri River, the river stands as boundary between Abkhazia and Georgia. As they try to harvest enough corn to survive the winter, conflicts from outer world affects their lives. Girl finds a wounded soldier who have hidden himself in the corn plants. Old man and his granddaughter helps and hides him while his enemies searches for him. Conflict between two small groups of soldiers is an effective use of minimalism on clashes between Abkhazia and Georgia. But the film does not touch political issues, it takes the subject with an artistic point of view.

Old man has a lot of resemblances with titular character of Akira Kurosawa's "Dersu Uzala" as they both are living close to nature and away from "human". That made the watching interesting for me as I like Dersu Uzala and I think secluded characters are profound features of a film in terms of spirituality.

Generally I think director/co-screenwriter George Ovashvili take inspiration from directors Akira Kurosawa, Kim Ki-Duk and Jean Renoir (La Grande Illusion). Film has nearly no dialogue yet the cinematography of the film by Elemér Ragályi seemed like it was talking with images, I think Ragályi has a style close to Emmanuel Lubezki and Christian Berger.

It is not a masterpiece but this slow-burning film has a somber beauty, art-house fans will like it.

the best art film of the decade

[slowboatmo · 10/10 · 28 September 2014]

One of the main goals of art film is to depict life in its most pure, elemental state. Yet few art movies have managed to achieve that goal with as much grace and poetic depth as George Ovashivili's Corn Island. This immaculately composed film takes the viewers on a soul-touching journey into the desolate, breathtakingly beautiful wilderness of a small island in Georgia and perfectly captures the rhythm of nature and the relation between nature and the two main characters whose daily struggles are interweaved into the light, sound and motion of nature around them. Throughout the film, the viewer can't help but feel the life-like, natural quality of every picture and scene. There are no excessive details; everything is distilled into its most natural state. The image of the old man's granddaughter sitting on the boat with a bundle of shining reed under the crisp sunlight is a precise portrait of life itself. In essence, art has blended into life, and life into art. What is more remarkable is that the director has managed to convey this profound state of life without the help of dialogue. Perhaps one could argue that it is precisely the lack of dialogue that has made this film that much more powerful and moving. A scene in the beginning where the old man fondly looks at a little bird pecking at the wood conveys a sense of elegance that no language can easily convey. Even the intermittent gunshots we hear in the background and the discovery of a wounded soldier that temporarily disrupts the tranquility of the island do not lead the film to deviate from its original artistic path. On the contrary, the tension lurking in the background elevates the humanistic aspect of the film to a new height. In the end, every human gesture and activity is dissolved into the larger nature. What we are left with is a film that touches the depth of our soul with such simplicity and gracefulness that very few films can match.

Corn Island : A great film which shows that even a tiny piece of land can be used to make a great film.

[FilmCriticLalitRao · 10/10 · 11 February 2015]

About cinema it is said that sometimes images convey perfectly what words fail to express. When words are uttered they make sense only when they merely suit the situations for which they were spoken. This effect is shown in Georgian film "Corn Island" with utmost austerity as an old man and his young grand-daughter set foot on a small island in the middle of a river. Their sudden arrival sets off a climate of distrust in the minds of other people. This is the start of a difficult life for them as there are also others who would like to see them defeated in their mission. There are some films which develop at their own pace. It is likely that laymen would call them slow whereas true admirers of cinema would label them as poetic works of art. Corn Island is one such film which would immensely appeal anybody who appreciates cinema as a poetic art. One can see how the entire process of planting a seed until the final stages of agriculture is carried out. The origin of this poetic film can be traced back to a day in August 1992 when an Abkhazian person ordered Georgian director George Ovashvili to leave Abkhazian black sea coast. According to him the war had started.

minimalist filmmaking, but spectacular visuals

[gregking4 · 6/10 · 5 August 2015]

In the middle of the Enguri River in a remote region of Russia, the floodwaters produce small islands that are capable of producing corn crops. An unnamed elderly man (Ilyas Salman) plants corn on the island and builds a small rustic hut where he spends his time tilling the crops and waiting for them to flourish. He is accompanied by his teenage granddaughter (Mariam Buturishvili). It is a rather dull existence for the pair, more so for the girl who has to go without the usual creature comforts. The river itself forms a border between Georgia and the breakaway republic of Abkhazia, and the two nations are involved in an ongoing conflict. Gunshots occasionally reach the pair from across the river on the mainland, a reminder of the civil war happening elsewhere. But the conflict doesn't really touch the couple until a wounded soldier washes ashore one night. They nurse him back to health while wary of the occasional boat patrol passing. Corn Island is a poetic and visually stunning story about the cycle of nature, of the human cycle life and death and of man versus nature. This slow burn and minimalist drama from Russian director George Ovashvili has little dialogue, and relies mainly on the spectacular visuals to tell the story. Corn Island has been beautifully filmed by Elemer Ragalyi, whose sweeping cinematography gives the film an epic scope.

Simple but well executed visual narrative!

[awadnajilp · 8/10 · 11 February 2015]

As a review, I wouldn't go much into detail since the movie itself is minimal in most of the sense but if you are nature loving slow paced artistic movie fan, You will surely love this movie.

Although movie present post-war conflict between two nations, there's hardly any dynamics in visually or audibly.Simple story narration, An old man and his grand daughter find themselves in a small island temporarily formed by river and cultivate corn.

Director portray entire procedure in growing a corn plants which might feel a bit slow but the breezy tone of the cinematography makes the movie intellectually engaging This is a thought provoking beautifully executed art piece.

A slow and peaceful live disrupted in multiple ways.

[frankde-jong · 7/10 · 22 September 2022]

"Corn island" is about islands that run dry in early spring and are swallowed up by the river again during winter. In the meantime it is very fertile land and farmers from the neigbourhood are keen to occupy such an island in order to sow and harvest corn.

From the above description it is clear that "Corn island" is a slow movie about a slow and peaceful live. You can nearly see the corn crow. This slow and peaceful live however is disrupted in multiple ways.

In the first place is the corn island of this movie situated in a disputed territory between two countries. Rival soldiers are regularly passing by the island. The farmer is determined to stay out of this war. Will he succeed? This aspect of the film reminded me of the Dutch novel "The house of refuge" (1952, Willem Frederik Hermans).

A farmers live is always governed by the seasons, but that is especially true if your field is on a temporary island. The second cause of disruption.

Not only the corn is growing, but also the granddaughter of the farmer. This fact does not pass unnoticed by the passing soldiers, forming the third disruptive force. This third aspect of the film is in my opinion the weakest. The coming of age is portrayed using a lot of clichés such as suddenly being tired of your favorite doll or experiencing the first menstrual cycle.

After "In bloom" (2013, Nana Ekvtimishvili) "Corn island" was the second film from Georgia I saw within a year. Remarkable was the large share that the grandparents had in both films in raising their grandchildren. A coincidence?

Beautiful Minimalism

[Josh_Friesen · 9/10 · 29 September 2014]

Every year the Enguri River drops to reveal small fertile islands. Because the river marks the natural border that separates Georgia from Abkhazia, these islands are unclaimed territory. Peasants come every year to live on them during the growing season, attempting to harvest enough corn to survive the winter. Two problems face them; the fact that the two nations have been in some form of conflict since the 90's and the rising waters of the Enguri.

Clearly influenced by the likes of Dreyer and Bela Tarr, Director George Ovashvili's slow-burning, minimalist thriller takes place entirely on and around one of these tiny islands. We follow an old man, referred to only as Grandpa, and his grand-daughter as they methodically bring supplies to the island and construct a small shack. They will have to live on this island in order to tend to and protect their little patch of corn.

The film is low on plot and with nearly no dialogue and yet the sweeping cinematography gives the film an epic tone. This island means everything and nothing. The river creates and the river destroys. The island is a microcosm of man against nature, of the political instability of the region and of life itself. The amount Corn Island is able to achieve with so little is commendable.

A grand achievement, Corn Island hints at a bright future for Georgian cinema and puts George Ovashvili on the radar as a director to watch.

Human resonance and conceptualisation.

[teosaos · 7/10 · 26 March 2019]

Corn Island was noted in teosoas for its human resonance and conceptualisation.

Very Good Drama.

[redrobin62-321-207311 · 8/10 · 30 August 2018]

I actually stumbled upon this film by accident. In my search for all things horror, I came across "Corn Island" somewhere. Maybe there is another "Corn Island" movie lurking about, but this definitely wasn't it. About 15 or 20 minutes in, when I realized that this wasn't horror, I kept it playing anyway because it did seem interesting.

Really, it was almost a silent feature as the characters didn't speak much. What intrigued me was the Georgian setting, the picturesque cinematography, the backdrop of war, and the whole idea about planting corn on an island year after year. Acting all around was good, too.

When I was younger I spent a lot of time watching foreign language dramas from France, Russia, Turkey, Japan, Belgium, Germany, the Netherlands and other places. I think it's time to give films from Georgia my full attention, too, since they seem to rate so high right here on IMDb.

Slow

[billcr12 · 5/10 · 12 April 2019]

I am astounded by the 7.7 rating here. A man and his granddaughter settle on an island formed by a river in Soviet Georgia and plant a corn crop. There is almost no dialogue and the scenery is nice but the story ends rather abruptly. I can appreciate the beauty of nature but the lack of any conversation between the two main characters was maddening to me. At least there are not many subtitles to read here but I need more of an interaction to hold my interest.

The perpetual dawn of womanhood

[insightflow-20603 · 10/10 · 12 April 2023]

An epic depicting nature's force majeure, this film may ostensibly be placed with masterpieces of Central-Asian cinema dwelling on the mythical (Shynyraw/ Deep Well is one that comes to mind). However, this is a film about man's failure to hold up the sky or the roof of the microcosm he has aimed to claim; equally, no man can protect against the conflicts and the aspirations of the unconscious masculine. Mankind is swept and buried in the water stream - the feminine par excellence - and it is the water which fertilises the secondary female element, the earth. With tension and threat throughout the film which fades to black-and-white bleakness, a girl on the verge of womanhood may be the cosmic Saviour. This is the girl's initiation, her blood gently splattering the screen, a cause for anguished tears, but also the thin red line on which it all hangs. Libido is not played down: she is in no fear of playing on it in the face of danger. After all, she is that "water, water everywhere" which buds the fruit she'll sail away with; man could try and claim the earth, but not the water. This Red Riding Hood doesn't need the Hunter in her neverending story, nor is she corrupted by the Wolf. What remains after her is the imperishable childhood, evoking gentleness in the man-of-war, the fisherman and the hunter. The Fish will irrevocably escape, the impending loom reserved for man-made structures and boundaries.

"The Fish doesn't think, the Fish knows everything", hence no need to speak. And yet in Ovashvili's subsequent film, Beautiful Helen, the female character is the chattery voice of reason, wrapped in the writer-filmmaker's story within stories. The feminine begins to calmly speak to fire, to masculine "demons". Only through her can he obtain his life, and in a story he kills himself to let her go, having been held by a devouring female archetype; the vamp remains in the story, while Beautiful Helen is free to write her own script, whether fictional or "real". Beauty - in no way conventional, but highly individual - is once again liberated.

I anticipate the new outcomes of this richly imaginative director and his fellow screenwriter(s). The subversion of the masculine and feminine I'm sensing may be manifest in his current project's title, The Moon is a Father of Mine.

Having himself referred to a zodiac symbol, I take the liberty to cite a famous astrologer and poet: "The thistle is dangerous, yet it grows entwined with the heavy, languid beauty of the honeysuckle. Have you ever inhaled that sweet, overwhelming fragrance on a still midsummer's night? Then you will know why there are those who brave the thistles to seek the tenderness of Scorpio - exquisite tenderness. His explosive passion has the rich, dark red wine colour of the bloodstone. But Scorpio steel is tempered in a furnace of unbearable heat until it emerges cool, satiny smooth - and strong enough to control the nine spiritual fires of Scorpio's wisdom."

Slow, too slow

[master_oo7 · 4/10 · 8 November 2020]

Story is somehow interesting but ideal for short film, absolutely not for 1.4 H. Those who wanna watch use the forward option very often.