Aga: NZIFF Review

Aga: NZIFF Review

Opening with potentially one of the most visually arresting images of the festival, genial and benign in its intentions, Aga is an intriguing, minimalist slice of slow cinema.

Set in a location unknown, but against a backdrop of snowy wastelands, it's the story of an old couple, Nanook and Sedna.

This duo, old and wizened, but clearly blessed with a love for each other that's endured more than just the harsh winters on show, spend their time in their yurt, living the traditions of their ancestors.

From ice-fishing to lying back in a snow angel on the frozen wastes as a plane and its chem-trails head over, life is simple. But it's becoming more of a struggle for this duo - and with life encroaching on them, things are about to cataclysmically change.

Subtle and slow, Aga's take on climate change and the impact on smaller lives cannot be underestimated.

Equally, director Milko Lazarov's eye for some truly impressive vistas demands to be seen on the biggest screen. Whether it's the aformentioned opening shot, or the subsequent shot of Nanook looking like an ant as he rides across the white wastelands in a dog-pulled sled, the visuals are astounding.

But if the scope of the visuals are vast, the intent of the drama is intimate.

Slow in its unveiling, deliberate in its pacing, and microcosmic in its moments, Aga revels in its revelations. Its connection to nature is apparent and inherent, and the commentary from without by the viewer will require some joining of the dots, but that's by no means a bad thing.

Aga won't be to everyone's tastes, but this slice from the Berlin Film Festival is an intriguing offering, that haunts with both melancholy and elegance.