I really wanted to like this movie. I feel terribly cynical trashing it, and that's why I'm giving it a middling 5. Actually, I'm giving it a 5 because there were some superb performances.

A movie that not only functions as a solid scarefest but a razor-sharp satire.

The acting in this movie is really good.

One of the most extraordinary films you will see this year. Take that as you want.

In the middle of the Enguri River in a remote region of Russia, the floodwaters produce small islands that are capable of producing corn crops. An unnamed elderly man (Ilyas Salman) plants corn on the island and builds a small rustic hut where he spends his time tilling the crops and waiting for them to flourish. He is accompanied by his teenage granddaughter (Mariam Buturishvili). It is a rather dull existence for the pair, more so for the girl who has to go without the usual creature comforts. The river itself forms a border between Georgia and the breakaway republic of Abkhazia, and the two nations are involved in an ongoing conflict. Gunshots occasionally reach the pair from across the river on the mainland, a reminder of the civil war happening elsewhere. But the conflict doesn't really touch the couple until a wounded soldier washes ashore one night. They nurse him back to health while wary of the occasional boat patrol passing. Corn Island is a poetic and visually stunning story about the cycle of nature, of the human cycle life and death and of man versus nature. This slow burn and minimalist drama from Russian director George Ovashvili has little dialogue, and relies mainly on the spectacular visuals to tell the story. Corn Island has been beautifully filmed by Elemer Ragalyi, whose sweeping cinematography gives the film an epic scope.

Every year, the level of the Enguri River drops to uncover islands with fertile river-bottom soil. Locals can temporarily claim these islands for a season to grow a subsistence crop. An old man with one oar in an old wooden boat slowly makes his way to just such an island. He paces it off, digs the earth, tastes the soil, decides it will do, and marks his claim with a scrap of cloth on a stick. He leaves and then returns again and again, bringing supplies including scrap lumber to build a cabin with a thatched roof and then to plant corn with the help of his granddaughter who's in her early adolescence. Almost no words are spoken.A big part of this film is thus man versus nature. Will nature allow the old man and his granddaughter to scratch a living from this transient plot of land? This part of the film might as well be prehistoric because it's so primitive. Intentionally so.There's another part of the film caused by the island's location: in no-man's land between the warring country of Georgia and Abkhazia, a breakaway territory. This off-screen conflict brings soldiers from both sides into the film and we have man versus man versus man.The film takes its time in all things. It's slaved to nature's pace and the growing corn. Things unfold slowly. Some of them aren't explained. That's the way it is in real life.If you like artistic films with beautiful cinematography, this is a film for you. If you're looking for complex ideas and twisted plots, look elsewhere. This is a primal film about conflicts in nature, conflicts between men.

About cinema it is said that sometimes images convey perfectly what words fail to express. When words are uttered they make sense only when they merely suit the situations for which they were spoken. This effect is shown in Georgian film "Corn Island" with utmost austerity as an old man and his young grand-daughter set foot on a small island in the middle of a river. Their sudden arrival sets off a climate of distrust in the minds of other people. This is the start of a difficult life for them as there are also others who would like to see them defeated in their mission. There are some films which develop at their own pace. It is likely that laymen would call them slow whereas true admirers of cinema would label them as poetic works of art. Corn Island is one such film which would immensely appeal anybody who appreciates cinema as a poetic art. One can see how the entire process of planting a seed until the final stages of agriculture is carried out. The origin of this poetic film can be traced back to a day in August 1992 when an Abkhazian person ordered Georgian director George Ovashvili to leave Abkhazian black sea coast. According to him the war had started.

George Ovashvili's Corn Island is an auteuristic work that finds its balance between men and nature. Through the lives of an Abkhazian grandfather and his granddaughter, we find our place in the cycle of life. First you work the soil to feed yourself, then when you die you become part of the nature. This cycle reminds me of a Kim Ki-Duk film "Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter... and Spring" which is a brilliant film that attains nature from its characters' lives.An Abkhazian peasant (Ilyas Salman) and his granddaughter (Mariam Buturishvili) are living on one of many islands created by Enguri River, the river stands as boundary between Abkhazia and Georgia. As they try to harvest enough corn to survive the winter, conflicts from outer world affects their lives. Girl finds a wounded soldier who have hidden himself in the corn plants. Old man and his granddaughter helps and hides him while his enemies searches for him. Conflict between two small groups of soldiers is an effective use of minimalism on clashes between Abkhazia and Georgia. But the film does not touch political issues, it takes the subject with an artistic point of view. Old man has a lot of resemblances with titular character of Akira Kurosawa's "Dersu Uzala" as they both are living close to nature and away from "human". That made the watching interesting for me as I like Dersu Uzala and I think secluded characters are profound features of a film in terms of spirituality. Generally I think director/co-screenwriter George Ovashvili take inspiration from directors Akira Kurosawa, Kim Ki-Duk and Jean Renoir (La Grande Illusion). Film has nearly no dialogue yet the cinematography of the film by Elemér Ragályi seemed like it was talking with images, I think Ragályi has a style close to Emmanuel Lubezki and Christian Berger. It is not a masterpiece but this slow-burning film has a somber beauty, art-house fans will like it.