A film as beautiful as a poem, Another Birth from Tajikistan follows a young girl living in a remote mountain village. One night, she asks her mother, “Can you die from sorrow?”, “It’s definitely possible to wither away from sorrow,” her mother answers. The girl asks again, “What does it mean to wither away?”, “It means to no longer have a taste for life.” As she watches her grandfather barely survive, longing for a son who never returned, and her mother wither away in her lonely existence, the girl reads poetry. She visits a wise man, and searches for Parī (mythical beings from Persian folklore) in a desperate attempt to keep her grandfather and mother from fading. The film’s poetic lyricism is heightened by its sophisticated lighting design and the subtle tension between still images, set against the picturesque Shakhdara Valley. As the girl recites verses, her mother’s love, sorrow, and despair flows like music, and she gets a taste of life through her mother’s sorrow. This is a noteworthy debut feature by a female Tajik filmmaker.
