V gorakh moyo serdtse
Mi corazón está en las tierras altas
(Rustam Khamdamov, 1967)
Rustam Khadamov, My Heart Is in the Highlands
IMDb
Comentario de
Irina Goncharova
- What is your father’s occupation?
- My father writes poetry. That’s all he does. He is one of the greatest unknown poets of the world.
- And when does he get money?
– Never. It’s impossible to be great and be paid for it.
The quote above is an exchange from Rustam Khamdamov’s
V gorakh moyo serdtse [
My Heart’s in the Highlands] (1967). When he was a third year student of the All-Union Institute for Cinematography (VGIK in Moscow, USSR) Khamdamov shot this movie that was called “the work of a master” and was included into the list of the best Soviet movies. The movie swept the VGIK internal festivals. Although Khamdamov is mentioned in the credits only once, along with other students, everybody knew he was the one and only author of the movie—not just its director, but the one who wrote the original screenplay (after William Saroyan’s play), who wrote the absurd dialogue, who made all streamers and costumes with his own hands, who selected the best actors when doing the casting. The response to the film was polarized and conflicting. The VGIK Communist Party Committee—just imagine, at that time the Communists decided destiny of everything and everyone in the country—introduced ideological censorship on the works of the VGIK students straight away.
Rustam Khamdamov is of Uzbek descent and took his film production course from the renown Russian film director Grigori Chukhrai. As mentioned above, his first movie was the student work (some critics say it was his graduate project)
My Heart’s in the Highlands (1967), a short, approximately 30 minute black and white film. This was the first film where viewers saw the beautiful Elena Solovey, a future Soviet movie star.
My Heart’s In The Highlands (1939), initially a play by William Saroyan, was a comedy about a young boy and his Armenian family. Khamdamov used the play’s plot, but recycled it and made a poetic film, or better a non-narrative one, and did it so masterfully that Federico Fellini, Luchino Visconti, Sergei Paradjanov, and Kira Muratova all praised him for it. In Polina Barskova’s words, Khamdamov shows “qualities that may easily be called decadent: the obsessive aestheticization of all aspects of life, including the goriest; the eroticisation of the Other—the other space, the other epoch, the other sex; the eschatological quest for the ultimate, the final, the last in the series.” The Italian directors were so impressed by Khamdamov’s student work that they mentioned his name as if he was already one of their equals on the cinematic Olympus. So did Andrei Konchalovsky, in his book
The Enlivening Deception (1999).
What was so special about the film that brought its director from nowhere to the spotlight?
I think that for the American audience, Khamdamov’s films are one more example of the strangeness of the Russian cinema, and of European cinema in general, because they almost lack the action which is so attractive for American moviegoers. Khamdamov’s movies are different. One can hardly write a paragraph on the plot. As a postmodernist—but a distinctly Russian, non-narrative postmodernist—Khamdamov freely adapts the plot of the Saroyan play. For Rustam Khamdamov what matters is not so much WHAT HAPPENS, but IN WHAT ENVIRONMENT and HOW he shows it.
The images that later became Khamdamov’s trademarks first appear in
My Heart’s in the Highlands: the room cluttered with every sort of art object in every space, ladies stockings hanging over a balcony rail, the peculiar, elegant ladies hat with the white band and feathers, and always visions of women and the Feminine. The short film begins with a man playing a piano in a silent movie style. The piano and its player rolls down the street. The camera follows several characters—a smiling prostitute, two young wealthy girls, some boys on a bicycle, a black woman carrying a basket of flowers—through both the rich and the poor streets of a town before finally finding its main characters, a boy and his father and grandmother. The grandmother is a retired opera diva (or so she claims), and the father is a poet who has been writing a single poem for his entire life. The family wishes to entertain a visitor, the actor/musician MacGregor, who they meet in the street, but they have no money for breakfast.
They send the boy to get food from a local grocer. The shopkeeper has loaned them food on credit before and is reluctant to do so again. The boy must scheme to melt his cold heart to get food for the party.
The owner asks the boy when his father will have money to pay for the food. It is at this moment the phrase “
It’s impossible to be great and be paid for it” is spoken. The boy is not just shrewd, he is a philosopher. He understands that his father will never get any money for his “great poem.”
It seems to me that the entire film was made just to pronounce these words: “
It’s impossible to be great and be paid for it.”
The boy eventually gets some breakfast and returns to his family and their visitor. The group feasts and gets a little bit drunk. They tell stories, MacGregor plays a song on his trumpet, the old woman dances the can-can. The camera pans around the home and shows art objects stuffed into every corner. The scene dissolves, and suddenly we see another woman in a garden sitting in a rocking chair. Then she disappears, leaving nature alone. Then the movie returns to the prostitute, Rosa, learning to ride a bike in a vacant lot with the help of some boys. The piano from the beginning of the film rolls by, this time with a young girl sitting at it, playing a duet with the original pianist.
It ends here, a poetic, nostalgic movie without any special plot or idea. And we ask ourselves: “Why, why it is so appealing, charming, even compelling?” A. Konchalovsky asks similar questions in one of his interviews: “I will say more: the picture
My Heart’s in the Highlands influenced me greatly―while making
Dvoryanskoe gnezdo [
A Nest of Gentry] I found myself under its spell. I watched the picture several times and each time I could not understand, why it impressed me so much, why it disturbs me, and I do not fear to ask, what is so special in it?” Later he goes back to this question, and comes to the conclusion: “It was very beautiful, though there was some mannerism in it… Alas, but
My Heart’s in the Highlands happened to be [Khamdamov’s] only listed work. Later, there was a sad story with the unfinished film
Nechayannye radosti [
Unintentional pleasures] (1972), which was recycled and reappeared as
Raba Liubvi (1976) [
A Slave of Love] by Nikita Mikhalkov. And then goes one more sad story―with
Anna Karamazoff, which nobody has ever seen but at Cannes. Where it is now? It is amusing, that
A Nest of Gentry was made influenced by Fellini and Khamdamov. A great classicist and a student of the VGIK!”
Rustam Khamdamov is first of all an artist. An artist who is fallen in love with life, once and for ever. For him life is the eternal Feminine, in the vast diversity of the female imagery, from a simple young prostitute Rosa who dreams to meet a man that will take her abroad, the young girls with the nurse, the black woman with the flower baskets, and the lady in the rocking chair in
My Heart’s in the Highlands (1967) to the neglected opera divas of
Vokaldy paralelder [
Vocal Parallels] (2005).
COMPLETE PLOT SUMMARY OF THE SHORT FILM
V GORAKH MOYO SERDSTE
- Spoiler: mostrar
- My Heart’s in the Highlands starts with piano music, played in a silent movie style.
We hear a female voice reading the credit: “Improvisation on William Saroyan’s short story ‘My Heart’s in the Highlands.’” We see a very old street car leaving the depot. The piano is just inside the yard of the depot, and the performer continues to play his simple melody. The street car driver drives his trolley past the performer. And the movie starts. We read the caption: “It is early morning in the town” and see how the city awakens: a lady leaves a beautiful building with a Russian wolfhound and meets another young lady with a similar dog. Then we see a pair who are most likely marine college students, a young man and a young girl dressed in special marine uniforms, he in the typical black jacket and white short pants, while she in a white blouse and black skirt. They wear white marine caps. The pair walks by the sea quay. They stop, and begin competing at throwing small stones. A homeless, elderly musician with a trumpet goes by, sits on the steps of the quay, and starts playing just few notes on his instrument, as if a herald announcing his arrival in the town.
Then we are on a new street and again see the same performer and his piano, but now there is a new character: a young girl, most likely a prostitute, in a 1920s style hat with a black and white feather boa. It looks like she is returning home in the morning in a very good mood. She appears from out of the morning mist and goes down an empty street of a rich residential area. She approaches the piano and sits at it, taking place of the performer, and starts playing. She plays the same melody but in quite a different style and rhythm―in the can-can rhythm. Two young girls, most likely sea port workers, also in marine uniform blouses with kerchiefs tied around their heads, ride their bicycles down the same street. A black woman in a black dress with a white collar and hat carries flower baskets down a clean street, most probably in a wealthy area. She walks to the rhythm of the music, smiling wide and showing her beautiful white teeth. The elderly musician in his long black overcoat and old hat walks down another street, carrying his trumpet under his armpit. He looks very weary. We see an old woman beating the dust off of pillows and placing them on a rail of the balcony of a dilapidated building to dry.
Again Rosa, the prostitute, appears, still in good mood. It looks like she is always in good mood, smiling, revealing her big teeth and horsy upper jaw. She walks, also in the rhythm of the music, down a slope paved with old stones, and a person (it is hard to tell the sex, most likely a female) carrying a big box looks at her and curses. A young boy dressed as a choirboy is hurrying to the church sermon. The black woman with the flower baskets walks in a ragtime rhythm. Two little girls walk out of a wealthy home with their nurse, wearing very big hats decorated with white bands and feathers. (Hats of this style appear in each and every one of Khamdamov’s movies; it’s a trademark of his). Later, in the finale, we will see the elder of the girls playing a piano duet with the main performer.
But soon Rosa, the musician and the two young women riding the bicycles arrive at the crossroads where three streets meet, Rosa coming from one direction, the musician coming from another, and the young bicyclists from the third. One of the bicycle riders makes circles around Rosa, almost riding over her shoes. Then they all continue to go their own ways.
Soon we see Rosa, the musician, and a new character, a boy, on a narrow street with dilapidated residential houses. We see white bed linens and curtains hanging across the street to dry, and it is clear we are in the district where poor people live. With all the white linen hanging across it, the street is reminiscent of an Italian city.
My Heart's in the HighlandsA bridge crosses the street from one decaying house to another, and on the bridge we see a strange couple. She looks like an elderly female clown with weird makeup, dressed in a vintage dress. Later we learn that she was an opera singer who toured all over the world―according to her; it’s possible she only imagines herself to be a retired diva. Her son is an elderly man who informs us he is presently writing a poem; it later appears that he writes this one poem for his entire life. His mother presents him as “one of the greatest unknown poets of the world”.
The musician presents himself to the couple telling them that he is a great actor McGregor whose “heart is in the highlands;” at the moment he is thirsty and asks for a glass of water. Rosa teases the boy, asking about his grandmother, but the couple on the bridge invite MacGregor to their home to share a meal with them. But it comes out they have nothing for breakfast, nor any money to buy it. Thus, they send the boy to Mr. Kozak, the owner of a small grocery/pub who used to give them food on credit. They tell the boy it is his job to get the food, and we understand he does everything so that his parent and grandparent will not starve.
The boy goes to the grocery and approaches Mr. Kozak, but is smart enough not to ask him straight away for some food, again on credit. He begins “Hello Mr. Kozak. What would happen if you found yourself in China alone and without a penny in your pocket?”
But Kozak wants to get his money and replies quite curtly, “What do you need? Have you brought money?”
But the boy knows what he needs. His goal is to get some food for the family and the guest. So his reply is: “Money? We are talking about a man in China. How would you feel in China in such a situation?”
“But you’re not in China and neither is your dad. I will not give you anything on credit anymore.”
A question comes to one’s mind: how do these people survive?
At that moment a young and very beautiful girl, Mr. Kozak’s daughter (Elena Solovey) appears, cordially greeting the boy. The proprietor’s attitude changes to the opposite, especially after the boy asks the owner how his “beautiful daughter” is doing after she disappears into an office behind some curtains. The father’s heart melts and he starts to pack food for the boy―a pound of cheese, two loaves of white bread, and a bottle of wine.
“What’s your father’s occupation?” asks a visitor to the pub who was sitting at the table and listening to the discussion.
“My father writes poetry. That’s all he does. He is one of the greatest unknown poets of the world.”
The latest words make Mr. Kozak even more generous. He opens the cupboard behind his back and adds two additional cans of food for “the greatest unknown poets of the world”.
“It’s impossible to be great and be paid for it,” is the answer the boy gives when the owner asks when the father is going to pay for the foodstuff.
The boy returns home and the feast starts. They are getting full and a little bit drunk, or better to say, more relaxed feeling free to say what they think. And each person says what he or she has dreamt to say aloud for a long time. They are in the company of equals―a hypothetical former opera diva, an actor-musician, and a poet. But the paradox is that they are talking to themselves. The lady tells about her success in Morocco, Egypt, China, etc. while she was a young opera singer. She recollects her contracts and lovers, but his husband and the son tease her. At that moment her son (grandson?) climbs up on the chair tells MacGregor several times that she lies; he is tremendously happy to be, as he thinks, the focal point of the adults’ attention. The poet says: “Oh, she is a great woman!” And we understand that she was his Muse. But from his tone we feel that “only a great woman could be next to the great poet.”
The lady decides to go to her bedroom and to put on her old gown. But she is too fat now to fit into it. She even asks the boy to pull her corset tighter. But alas! She grew irreversibly fat. She is upset and cries, lying down on her bed. But all of a sudden she gets up from her bed and starts dancing a can-can dance with the boy (being already appropriately dressed in the underwear of that epoch). Then she comes out to the dining room in her regular dress, keeping her wonderful old white gown in her hands as if evidence of her youth and beauty, and she starts dancing with the gown.
MacGregor, who has just stolen a piece of bread with meat and cheese to eat when he leaves the house, takes his trumpet and starts playing “a song of happiness”. The song is heard on the street, and the people walk out from their houses. Mr. Kozak and his daughter leave the pub to listen to the melody that is performed by MacGregor, a melody “that makes hearts to tremble with sorrow and happiness,” as he says. He plays the same tune that has been heard during the entire film.
The camera pans around the room showing different objects: paintings of famous artists, some simpler paintings, sculptures, crystal wineglasses, books, shovels hanging from the ceiling, porcelain jars (some of them broken), a pair of lady’s stockings being dried on the balcony, a live white chicken on the balcony rails, etc., etc. (Actually, ladies stockings hanging and the balcony rails appear in practically all of Khamdamov’s films as a symbol of frailty, the feebleness of feminine beauty, and life in general—because beyond the rails lies the abyss.) The room is jam-packed with paintings and pictures hanging or simply leaning on the walls, antique furniture pieces, books, vases. In that artistic mess we perceive that the director is fascinated by the beauty of the world in all its forms, especially in the ‘fin de siecles’ aesthetic.
The decorations of the room are excessively aesthetic. There isn’t any empty wall or space. Such is the artistic language of the director, starting from his very first picture. We will observe the same in his other movies, such as Unintentional pleasures (1972).
All of a sudden we are taken to a garden where we see a lady sitting and rocking in a rocking chair. Water falls from an unknown source. The lady wears a beautiful hat, similar to the hats two little girls wore at the beginning of the movie, and similar to the one the old singer keeps in her bedroom. The rain stops, but the lady has disappeared from the garden. And we see the everlasting nature, the thick green garden (forest?) without any human presence, which again reminds us of the fragility of the human life irrespective of how beautiful it may be, and the undying nature of the world.
We now see Rosa, the prostitute, who is learning to ride the bicycle aided by a gang of little boys on the vacant land. Her first attempts look very comical. Music is being played on a piano by the performer from the opening in a duet with a little girl in the typical Kamdamov-style hat, one of the girls from the rich house. The piano goes down the city street while Rosa rides her bicycle accompanied by the boys… and the film ends.
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Name.........: V gorakh moyo serdtse (Rustam Khamdamov, 1967) VHSRip.avi
Filesize.....: 328 MB (or 336,291 KB or 344,362,368 bytes)
Runtime......: 00:31:14 (46,849 fr)
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V gorakh moyo serdtse (Rustam Khamdamov, 1967) VHSRip.avi 
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