There’s no susceptible plot— just a procession of living icons from the life of an 18th-century Armenian poet. Pomegranates bleed like hearts, monks drift like smoke, and time folds in on itself like worn parchment. The Color of Pomegranates doesn’t so much tell a story as hum it—through gesture, texture, and ritual. It’s like absorbing a memory through the skin. Baffling, yes—but also sacred, strange, and undeniably beautiful. I spent most of it adrift, oddly spellbound. If Jodorowsky directed a fragrance advert, it might look like this. I don’t understand it, but I don’t think I need to. I just know I’ve seen something rare.
There's a certain timelessness to this beautiful film, due perhaps to the outstanding quality of the video format. Additionally there are three good length extra films included on the DVD, documenting the lives of the poet, the director and the fascinating history of the film itself. All in all a very worthwhile rental and one I would recommend to anyone interested in the development of Artistic cinema.