According to Armenian Time by documentarian Diana Hovhannisyan tells the story of the director’s grandmother, Knar, a 60-year-old Armenian woman caught between two distinct realities: her village in Armenia and her son and grandchildren’s home in the Netherlands. Despite an emotional attachment to her homeland, Knar forces herself to travel abroad to be close to her family. The preparation for her trips to the Netherlands and her eager return home seem like an unbroken cycle.
The blending of these two worlds is depicted vividly in the film. In a defining scene, we see the view from a window leading to the yard, an important corner of Knar’s home. Here, she has created a sanctuary of faith with icons and candles and prays for the health of her children and grandchildren. The significance of this corner is evident when, upon returning from the Netherlands, Knar first opens the curtains to check if her sacred space is still intact.
In the Netherlands, Knar does not adapt easily to this new life, as seen in a moment when her loud voice fills the quiet streets. She receives a reprimand but does not back down, responding in Armenian and Russian to the person who admonishes her. Another distinctly Armenian cultural trait is revealed when, not long after arriving in the Netherlands, Knar makes new friends by sharing a coffee. She also offers them sweets brought from Armenia — a gesture of nostalgia in a foreign land.
Indeed, Knar’s relationship with coffee is a thread throughout the film, which opens with a cup of sourj. The motif recurs — from inviting her new Dutch friends over for a cup to preparing coffee for her grandchild in the hospital to drinking it during breaks by the tandoor. Knar finds joy when her granddaughter accompanies her to drink together. The film ends with the grandchild asking when they will have coffee together in the morning.
Strong coffee themes aside, the film can be categorized as a documentary comedy — the kind of comedy that is not quite laugh-out-loud or rooted in joy, but arises from pain. Through comedy, Knar attempts to navigate the cyclical challenges of her experience. The humor never fully dissolves the underlying tension but allows her to carry on despite it. Humor is a choice — a way to face the inevitable crisis that arises each time Knar shifts from Armenian time to other time zones. It’s a way to cope with a pain that can be observed only from a distance yet never truly disappears.
Be the first to comment