BAKU, Azerbaijan, October 14.
Making traditional war movies will be difficult after the film
"44".
This was stated by famous journalist Vyacheslav Sapunov in his
post on Facebook following the grand premiere of the large-scale
historical feature film "44," dedicated to the heroism of the
Azerbaijani people during the Second Karabakh War, aimed at
preserving historical memory and fostering patriotism among the
younger generation, held at the Heydar Aliyev Center.
“The premiere of the feature film ‘44’ took place at the Heydar
Aliyev Center. An extraordinary audience gathered in the hall:
ministers, filmmakers, architects, musicians, writers, journalists,
and many other prominent figures.
Films about the Karabakh War have been made here before. Perhaps
not as many as one might wish, yet there have been worthy
productions. However, ‘44’ is a unique, outstanding project. I
cannot recall a war film of this scale ever being produced in
Azerbaijan before.
First and foremost, the sheer volume of work accomplished is
staggering. Five years of production, over 130 filming locations,
and thousands of extras, including active-duty military personnel
and special forces troops. The core team numbered 455 people, while
specialists from 13 countries were brought in for various stages of
production. The scale of this undertaking is hard to even imagine,
though it is clearly visible on screen. Anar Alakbarov, the film’s
artistic director, co-wrote the screenplay with Ismayil Iman. The
film was directed by Ismail Safarali and Maxim Smetana.
The battle scenes are particularly impressive, featuring real
tanks, armored vehicles, and weaponry, alongside numerous
explosions and firefights. The production team had authentic
military hardware at its disposal and worked with pyrotechnicians,
stunt performers, and military consultants.
Sound designer Teymur Karimov deserves special praise. It seems
he meticulously crafted every gunshot, explosion, footstep, rustle,
and breath. At times, one instinctively flinches at the sound of
gunfire, while during moments of quiet, one hears subtle sounds
that heighten the tension even further.
Ruslan Aghababayev’s beautiful music, alternately lyrical,
rapid, and poignant, weaves organically into the film’s symphony,
unfailingly heightening the emotional impact of the action on
screen.
And, of course, the cinematography by Alexander Pozdnyakov is
superb: sweeping mountain panoramas, rapid camera movements during
combat sequences (it seems there is hardly a single static shot in
the entire film), beautiful cityscapes, and intimate close-ups of
the actors. The footage shot on the cliffs near Jidir Duzu is
particularly striking; the camera shifts seamlessly from capturing
vast expanses to positioning itself right alongside the fighters as
they scramble up the rocks under enemy fire.
At times, I had the uncanny sensation that I had already
witnessed the events playing out on screen. Indeed, certain shots
seemed to have stepped straight out of wartime documentary
photographs I had seen in exhibitions, newspapers, or online,
familiar angles, faces, scenes, and settings. Yet now, it all came
to life and motion, filled with sounds and voices. You suddenly
recognize what you had previously seen only in a still image, and
this further reinforces the film’s historical authenticity.
Another remarkable touch by the filmmakers relates to the tragic
events in Ganja. Do you remember little Bakhtiyar Heydarli, whose
photograph circulated around the world in October 2020? The boy,
his face bloodied after surviving a missile strike on a peaceful
city, was smiling despite the pain and the horror he had endured.
Well, this episode made it into the film as well. In the movie, the
boy is named Aydin, but it was obvious to me that the character was
based on that very same Bakhtiyar. And what a perfect choice for
the young actor! He bears a striking resemblance to the child in
the famous photograph.
Fortunately, the filmmakers also made room for scenes of
everyday life. Characters fall in love, get married, quarrel, and
await the return of their loved ones. Pre-war Baku is beautifully
captured, featuring recognizable streets and stunning cityscapes.
And the location shots outside the capital are magnificent: Lerik,
wedding and funeral scenes, mountain landscapes, and the villages
of Karabakh. Some shots are so beautifully filmed that one wants to
linger over them.
The protagonist, special forces officer Rashad Khalilov, is
played by Ibrahim Chingiz, an actor from the Azerbaijan State
Academic Russian Drama Theatre. He delivers a wonderful
performance. His Rashad is vibrant and charming, far removed from
any glossy or idealized caricature. He feels authentic. The same
goes for his love interest, the Turkish doctor Zeynep, played by
Özge Gürel. They make a beautiful on-screen couple, with their
emotions ringing completely true.
However, I would like to highlight two other performances in
particular.
The first is by Gurban Ismayilov, who plays the father of one of
the special forces soldiers, a native of Lerik. He has very few
lines, yet his facial expressions and range of emotion are
extraordinary. The scene involving the map, where the father marks
the Azerbaijani settlements that have been liberated, is
brilliantly conceived. At first, he tracks the progress of his son
and his comrades-in-arms; later, he continues the task as the
father of a martyr. In the final moment, he drives a red thumbtack
into the map at the location of Shusha. The emotion with which he
performs this act is unforgettable. Without uttering a single word,
Gurban Ismayilov conveys such a depth of feeling that this brief
scene leaves as lasting an impression as the most spectacular
battle sequences.
Another standout performance comes from Hikmat Rahimov, who
plays an Armenian sniper. He creates a truly chilling character,
despite there being nothing outwardly demonic about his appearance.
We see a man fanatically devoted to his cause, a selfless and
skilled fighter ready to spare no one, not even his own
compatriots, should they dare to acknowledge defeat.
The battles for Hadrut and, of course, Shusha make a powerful
impression. The assault on Shusha is arguably the highlight of the
film’s combat sequences. Special forces soldiers scale nearly sheer
cliffs meter by meter from the direction of Dashalti, fight their
way into the city, and engage in fierce combat. The battle scenes
in Shusha are filmed on a breathtaking scale; at times, watching
them is truly terrifying.
The soldiers feel authentic. They know how to fight, how to be
friends, how to joke, and how to support one another. And, of
course, they fear losing their comrades. These relationships are
portrayed naturally, without unnecessary melodrama.
We all know the historical outcome, yet that does not detract in
the slightest from the suspense of the two-and-a-half-hour film.
Then comes the Victory Parade, footage that surely leaves no one
unmoved. Following that, we see Neftchilar Avenue, where hundreds
of servicemen march carrying portraits of their fallen comrades,
our martyrs. Leading the procession is the President of Azerbaijan
and Supreme Commander-in-Chief, Ilham Aliyev. It’s a deeply moving
scene.
However, the premiere evening didn’t end there.
Before the screening, the film’s score was performed by a
symphony orchestra and the State Choral Chapel. The musical prelude
was accompanied by historical newsreel footage, and a palpable
sense of emotion already filled the hall.
Then, after the film, something happened that perhaps no one had
expected.
When the evening’s key figures were invited to the stage, the
audience prepared to welcome the film crew, but the first to appear
were the mothers of the martyrs. There were so many of them, more
than a hundred. The mothers of our fallen warriors, the very people
who made this Victory possible. It was impossible to listen to
their words without being deeply moved; many in the audience did
not attempt to hide their tears.
Following the on-screen battle scenes, the parade, and the
stirring music, we found ourselves in the presence of women who had
paid the ultimate price for Victory. And, in all likelihood, it's
these very moments that will linger in our memories for a long time
to come.
The film ‘44’ will undoubtedly go down in the history of
Azerbaijani cinema. After this, it will be difficult to make war
films in the old way; the filmmakers have demonstrated with such
conviction what the genre is truly capable of.
I sincerely hope that this work does not remain a solitary
achievement but marks the beginning of a new stage in our cinema,
and that as many people as possible see the film, including
audiences outside Azerbaijan,” the post noted.
