“April” is a powerful film that leaves a mark on its viewers, even if they may not want to see it again. It’s a creation by Dea Kulumbegashvili, a talented writer-director from Georgia, who has managed to produce a work that captivates and challenges all at once. This is only her second feature, and yet, she has already developed a distinctive style that’s hard to ignore.
Kulumbegashvili uses long, lingering shots that can test your patience but ultimately show a bold artistic vision. This unique approach makes you think long after the credits roll. The film begins with a striking image of a mysterious figure moving slowly across a dark, watery void, reminiscent of the atmospheric visuals found in Jonathan Glazer’s “Under the Skin.” Meanwhile, the cheerful sounds of children playing create a jarring contrast that immediately prompts questions.
Just when you settle into the film’s rhythm, it surprises you with a graphic overhead shot of a woman giving birth. The birth ends in loss, a stillborn baby, and we meet the doctor, Nina (played by Ia Sukhitashvili), who faces scrutiny for her care. Nina’s story unfolds against the backdrop of a rigid, patriarchal society where women struggle to access essential medical services like birth control and abortions. Kulumbegashvili highlights the bravery of women like Nina, who risk everything to help their patients.
The film captures Nina’s struggle with isolation through inventive cinematography by Arseni Khachaturan. Shot in a boxy Academy ratio, it visually emphasizes her feelings of entrapment. We often see her from behind or at a distance, suggesting her internal conflict as she maneuvers through her daily life. A poignant moment occurs when she admits to her ex-lover, David (Kakha Kintsurashvili), “There’s no space for anyone in my life.” In these few words, the weight of her struggles becomes clear.
Nina’s compassion shines through in her interactions with patients, especially during a powerful scene where she assists a deaf-mute teenager with a much-needed abortion. The camera lingers, capturing the raw emotions of the moment. This scene, like many others, feels like a quiet protest against societal norms and underscores the ongoing fight for women’s rights and healthcare access, particularly in conservative cultures. According to a recent report by the Guttmacher Institute, one in four women in the United States will have an abortion by age 45, highlighting the relevance of these issues globally.
Despite the heaviness of its themes, “April” also presents moments of beauty. Whether it’s a field of vibrant poppies or a delicate dawn sky, these visuals offer a counterbalance to the film’s darker messages. One particular scene, where Nina struggles to free her car from deep mud, serves as a metaphor for her own fight for freedom in a world that seeks to keep her trapped.
A film like “April” isn’t easy to digest. Its impact stems from its unflinching portrayal of harsh realities, from societal restrictions on women to the personal toll these struggles can take. And that discomfort is precisely what makes it so memorable.