`Ararat' confronts truth in world of denial

Paul F. Agusta, Contributor/Jakarta, pfa0109@yahoo.com

Canadian author and journalist, Peter C. Newman, once wrote, "History is no more than memories refreshed."

Now, Armenian-Canadian writer-director Atom Egoyan sets out to refresh mankind's collective awareness concerning a long-buried event of history; the Armenian genocide of 1915.

Although occurring almost a century ago, this event in which 1.5 million Armenians were killed or deported in a massive act of ethnic cleansing within the Ottoman Empire, continues to haunt the both the Armenians and the Turks, who have yet to fully acknowledge the possibility it even happened at all.

With the deftly layered and heavily textured film, Atom Egoyan points out that we cannot escape our histories, neither personal, national or collective, nor can we escape the desire to understand what happened and maybe, along the way, discover a hidden reality -- what makes us who we are.

It is this desire to comprehend that drives the majority of the film's characters, especially the young Armenian-Canadian Raffi; the main protagonist.

In a film-within-a-film, in stories within a story, and in the midst of grasping at a thin red thread of truth within a tapestry of lies and denials, Raffi, played with subtle sadness and burning passion by David Alpay, finds himself questioning his heritage while working as a production assistant and driver on the set of a film about the Armenian genocide.

As his questions are answered, even more questions emerge to plunge him ever more deeply into an obsession with history; the catalogue of the forgotten. As viewers watch Raffi turn the pages of the past, the film, Ararat, takes on new and more complex layers that may daunt many in the audience.

Egoyan throws such an immense amount of information at the audience that it threatens to inundate the senses and to almost obscure the core storyline of the genocide itself.

Yet, Egoyan never loses sight of the impact of that event, and carefully ties up every lose end for the audience as the myriad threads of the story entwine. It is his meticulous attention to detail as a screenplay writer that lends immediacy to this film and motivates a desire to learn more about this often-overlooked part of history.

It is as if Egoyan has set out to take the advice of Lord Acton who once suggested that if the past seems to be an obstacle and a burden, knowledge of it would be the safest and surest emancipation.

Ararat, which is rounded out by a stellar international cast, including Christopher Plummer, Charles Aznavour, Eric Bogosian, Arsinee Khanjian, Elias Koteas and Bruce Greenwood, is a solid piece of work. Not one person among the players gives a performance that falls short of excellence.

Charles Aznavour, who plays Edward Saroyan, the director of the film-within-the-film, skillfully and aptly depicts a wounded soul, who is a descendent of survivors.

Christopher Plummer plays David, a stern and almost reluctantly compassionate professional, whose decisions are pivotal not only for Raffi, but also for the cinematic revelation of the history of the genocide.

As if driven by the suspicion that history is destined to repeat itself because not enough people were consciously observing the first time around, Egoyan has taken pains to make sure this film is so unforgettable that it inscribes the tragedy of this atrocity indelibly on the psyches of filmgoers.

Ararat is a film that many viewers may find requires a second viewing due to the necessary complexity of the storytelling. It is truly worth the effort.