the
furniture movers
by Douglas Messserli
Otar
Iosseliani and Erlom Akhvlediani (writers), Otar Iosseliani (director) Ap’rili (April) / 1961, released 1972


Thus the director establishes in an
almost dialogue-free fable that the old city is a world in which it is
difficult to be in love.
Soon, however, Iosseliani turns his
attention to the large housing units, showing us their development in just a
few frames, as they are converted from cement and lumber into rather ugly
fortresses into which the city musicians, dancers, and even the muscle-builder
suddenly converge. The young lovers have finally found a space, sitting on the
floor of their empty apartment in a kind of mindless swoon. Their kisses light
up the overhead bulb, while the faucet miraculously flows, and the stove jets
come alive in flame. The musicians play in joyous rapture until suddenly they
are drowned out: the furniture movers have arrived, dragging in all their
wood-wrought possessions and the glasses, plates, cups, vases and objects to be
placed into and around these homely creations.

One of the most nefarious of these object
movers, a neighbor of the lovers, goes about peeking into the key locks of his
neighbors, only to discover that the lovers have not only failed to lock their
doors, but have nothing to protect within—not even a bed. Intruding upon their
lives once more, he draws them out into the hall to show them their elderly
neighbors busily washing up their glassware in rooms stuffed with chairs,
tables, cupboards and other menacing “things.” The young lovers cannot even
comprehend what he is showing them, and return happily to their empty rooms.
Outraged by their inability to
understand, the busybody neighbor confers with other tenants, and in a short
while brings the couple a present of an overstuffed chair.
The appreciative couple brings in the
object, and before long we see beside it a small makeshift table. Within days,
they purchase couches, beds, and tables; they collect glass,
purchase a vacuum cleaner,
clocks, and other noisy conveniences, which they proceed—all at the same time
to test—creating a racket of noise that even the busybody furniture mover above
them cannot abide. Their apartment has become so overstuffed with objects that
there is hardly room to move.
Now the time has come to clean everything,
and they, like the elderly couple shown them before, are busy shining up their
glassware, dusting off their objects. When the young girl goes to change the
flower vase however, the faucet refuses to cooperate. A quick kiss from her
husband has no effect. Another kiss buss does nothing further. Before long he
has dropped and broken a drinking cup. She, about to break the vase in anger,
thinks again before doing in the expensive object, taking out her anger in
plates instead. For the first time In Iosseliani’s comedic statement, the
couple speak, garbling out their anger in Georgian: we have need for a
translation. They are now clearly an angry married couple at the fight. The
busybody from above drops down to tell them to be quiet, only fanning the
flames of their rage.

The couple returns to the country paradise
to which they once escaped, only to find that the tree near to which they
kissed has been cut down—presumably to create more furniture. No matter, they
are now free of possessions, in love once more.
It is hard to find any overt political
commentary in Iosseliani’s gentle satire. Yet the movie was not permitted to be
released for eleven years, forcing Iosseliani to temporarily give up
film-making from 1963-1965, during which he worked as a sailor on a fishing
boat and at a metallurgical factory. When his 1975 film, Pastaorali, was similarly shelved, the director left his native
land for France.
Los Angeles, July
13, 2012
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