Though set against the backdrop of the complicated internal conflicts the Soviet republic of Georgia suffered in the late 1980s and early 1990s as the U.S.S.R. disintegrated, Mariam Khatchvani’s film is less a wartime epic than a domestic drama about the series of tragedies endured by a peasant woman in a society still dominated by strongly patriarchal traditions. Dina (Natia Vibliani) lives in an isolated Ushguli village in Svanetia, a province on the southern slopes of the Caucasus Mountains in the country’s northwest. She has been betrothed by her grandfather to fellow villager David (Nukri Khatchvani), who has been off fighting in the war, but during his absence has fallen in love with another man she met in a brief encounter, though she is not even aware of his name, nor he hers. When David finally returns from the front, he is accompanied by his closest comrade Gegi (George Babluani), who saved his life in combat. Gegi, however, turns out to be the man Dina loves, and he reciprocates her feeling. Her grandfather refuses to break off the engagement, saying doing so would humiliate the family, but when David discovers the truth he determines to kill Gegi during a hunting expedition. The effort fails, and he commits suicide instead. Gegi and Dina then marry and return to his village, but though they have a son, Mose (Mose Khatchvani), their happiness is short-lived. Gegi dies in an unexplained accident, and though her childhood friend Girshel (Girshel Chelidze) steps in to marry her, Gegi’s father will not let her take Mose away with her. Further complications arise, not least a harrowing bout of illness that threatens Mose’s life, but the question hanging over the film is whether Dina will ultimately be able to break free of the control of women by men that characterize Ushguli life. (A subplot shows Dina’s sister being kidnapped by a man who chooses her as a wife.) There is a distinctly melodramatic 'women’s picture' arc to Dina’s sad story, but its portrait of Svanetian life at the close of the twentieth century, with elements of blood-feud and pervasive religious superstition, is fascinating—a sequence in which Gegi must prove his innocence in David’s death by swearing on an icon of St. George and finding oath-helpers to support him demonstrates that many still-current practices can be traced back to medieval times. The performances are largely of amateur quality, and as director Khatchvani relies overmuch on close-ups of Vibliani’s angst-ridden face; but the authenticity of the locale is striking, and the camerawork, which frequently uses long, painterly shots of snow-covered mountain peaks as transitional devices, is ragged but immersive. This is a film that serves as a cultural revelation as well as a drama. With a behind-the-scenes stills gallery as an extra, a strong optional purchase. (F. Swietek)