People are voting emotionally.

Entertaining from beginning to end, it maintains the spirit of the franchise while establishing it's own seal with a fun cast

At first rather annoying in its heavy emphasis on reenactments, this movie ultimately proves fascinating, simply because the complicated, highly dramatic tale it tells still almost defies belief.

It's an amazing and heartbreaking story.

Sergei Parajanov's final completed film is based on Mikhail Lermontov's short story about a poor minstrel who must travel for 1,000 days before he is allowed to marry the daughter of the local ruler. Like Parajanov's earlier "Color of Pomegranates", "Ashik Kerib" (which Parajanov dedicated to his friend Andrei Tarkovsky) makes ample use of the visuals and goes long periods without speech. Basically, it tests your attention span; a far cry from Michael Bay's movies.I wouldn't go so far as to call this movie a masterpiece, but I like that it shows us a culture that we don't often get to see. The culture in this case is Azerbaijan. Parajanov had focused on Armenia with "The Color of Pomegranates", and Ukraine and Georgia with other movies. His refusal to incorporate socialist realism into his works caused friction with the Soviet authorities (as did his bisexuality).In the end I recommend "Ashik Kerib". I wonder where Parajanov's career would've gone had he lived longer.

"Ashik Kerib" is a sumptuous survey of the culture of Azerbaijan as it was from the 1500′s to the early 20th century. The film takes the form of a retelling of Russian author Mikhail Lermontov's short story of the same name (which in Azeri and Turkish means "Unfortunate Lover") and is performed as a children's fairy-tale. Two young lovers, the minstrel Ashik and a rich trader's daughter Magul-Megeri, pledge their love and wish to marry; unfortunately the girl's father, greedy for a huge bride price, prevents the marriage from going ahead unless Ashik can cough up the wealth required in 1,001 days. During this period, Ashik has many adventures in faraway lands and undergoes one trial after another as he tries to raise the money. If he doesn't get back in time with the bride price, Magul-Megeri's mean old man will marry her off to the equally odious Kurshudbek. Can Ashik raise the money and return home in time to claim his love? As with Parajanov's previous films like "The Color of Pomegranates" and "The Legend of Suram Fortress", the film's presentation is rich and layered with many shots of still life (a jug on a rock against a mountain waterfall, Persian-style miniaturist portrait paintings, displays of jugs, cups and musical instruments) that demonstrate what everyday life was like for Azeri people or the rich and middle-class among them at least. Scenes are filmed at some distance from the actors to show off their cultural context which helps to explain why they think and behave the way they do; there are very few close-ups and many of those are head-and-shoulder shots. The effect is one of a series of moving dioramas which suit the episodic nature of the plot, broken up into many short chapters each revolving around one incident. Dialogue is minimal and serves mainly to advance the story. The musical soundtrack is nearly continuous throughout the movie and doesn't match the action closely so some viewers may find the wailing singing annoying and shrill.There are many outdoor scenes which give the impression of Azerbaijan as a semi-arid grassy country where horses and Bactrian camels seem to be the main animals used for transport. Urban life takes place in small towns or large villages of old stone buildings.The film often features histrionic acting by villains or those who threaten Ashik in some way. Villains are readily identified by their lurid make-up and hammy, buffoonish actions. The two lead roles are passive and make little effort to overcome the obstacles that separate them: things happen to Ashik and he suffers and despairs a great deal but the plot's convolutions give him no opportunity to try to improve his fortunes. This is where the film founders: if it's a fairy-tale, surely Magul-Megeri and Ashik should have some direct or indirect access to magic so they could help each other? Magul-Megeri could find a wise woman or magician to send a helpful dove to guide Ashik and keep him out of trouble, and that dove could convey communications between the two to keep each other's spirits up and hold Kurshudbek at bay. The film already deviates from the original short story as it is: if Parajanov and Abashidze had followed it closely, the plot would end up as a remake of one of Parajanov's other films in which a Romeo leaves his love to pursue fortune and ends up wealthy but forgets to return home and marry the girl pining for him.As it is, the plot and Ashik wander from one struggle to another until time runs out and something has to be done to get Ashik back home. There's very little sense of the wonder and enchantment that should have accompanied this otherwise interesting ethnographic survey of Azeri culture. Usually with films in which a hero must endure trials and tests of character in a fairy-tale narrative, the main character is seen to change into a nobler person and proves a worthy marriage partner. This doesn't happen with "Ashik Kerib" and so in spite of the beautiful visual work and the good-looking lead actors, the film becomes just an exotic moving travelogue with some interesting still-life scenes but little else to hold the audience's attention.

Another odd, exotic fable from the Soviet Union's most enigmatic filmmaker, set this time in a storybook past where, to win the hand of his true love, a penniless minstrel is forced to wander for a thousand days in search of wisdom and enlightenment. Parajanov is one of the leading figures in his country's so-called 'poetic cinema movement', which means his films are crude, heavily stylized rites of passage, thick with symbols and anachronisms. The naive, almost primitive formality recalls both the ancient, ritual folklore of its Central Asian setting and the cheap conventions of early silent film melodrama, with the Georgian voice-over narration (added on top of Parajanov's post-dubbed Azerbaijani dialogue) giving the film an added level of weirdness. On his magical quest the lovelorn troubadour encounters a blind wedding party, a despotic sultan with a toy machine gun toting harem, a pantomime tiger, and survives various other trials and tribulations, all to a nerve-racking background of wailing Middle Eastern music.

This is Sergei Paradjanov's last film. He died after it's completion.Ashik Kerib is based on a the poem by Mikhail Lermontov which he wrote while in exile in the Caucasus. It blends many cultures; Armenian, Georgian, Moslem, and Orthodox iconography.Paradjanov meant the film for children, there is no dense, intellectual symbolism in it. There is also no dialogue. It was his ideal to create a visual myth. The film is incredibly beautiful, truly an experience.One thing to note is how he makes two-dimensional icons come to life in the film. If there is a man that "paints" on celluloid, it is Paradjanov.