It's remarkable to me that anything the least bit different from its antecedents in cinema's long history is deemed a "masterpiece" - often with little regard to the work's actual merits. I think it says a lot that whatever new "paradigm" Sergei Parajanov created with The Color of Pomegranates was essentially followed by no one (save maybe the cinematic-sedative known as Bela Tarr).
The final result of Parajanov's artistic labors makes Tarkovsky look like a run-and-gun popcorn flick - it's a series of fixed-camera tableaux that dare the viewer not to stab out their eyes with a pair of yarn needles. Ultimately, this sort of thing is fodder for the "get it" crowd - the sort of people who will promptly type hosannas to its dubious merits for the expressed purpose of lording their "intellectual prowess" in the face of the plebs.
Enjoy, kids. I'm gonna watch Under Siege again...
The final result of Parajanov's artistic labors makes Tarkovsky look like a run-and-gun popcorn flick - it's a series of fixed-camera tableaux that dare the viewer not to stab out their eyes with a pair of yarn needles. Ultimately, this sort of thing is fodder for the "get it" crowd - the sort of people who will promptly type hosannas to its dubious merits for the expressed purpose of lording their "intellectual prowess" in the face of the plebs.
Enjoy, kids. I'm gonna watch Under Siege again...