When danger knocks on your door, do you head the call? And how do you mentally prepare for the trepidations you’ll most certainly face? In Hrant Varzhapetyan’s short film Home these questions are met with painfully strong imagery that evokes the psychological torment of a young man when he’s sent to the front to protect Artsakh’s borders. But first, we see a celebration. A family enjoying a lavish meal, to be met with silence by a speaching uncle who speaks of the heroism of the young lad. Is he a hero? Or merely a scared young boy?
Varzhapetyan’s fifth short film is a sensitive dedication to some of his close friends that he has lost in the war for Nagorno-Karabakh. “I wanted to honor the lives of my friends with this work,” the young director explains in Yerevan, the morning before Home screens in the Apricot Stone competition of GAIFF. “Simultaneously, this film was a kind of way to release all these emotions and feelings that had accumulated since the war.”
It's release in 2024 might hint at years of reflection and processing of grief, but in reality Varzhapetyan conceived the film about two years ago, during the immediate aftermath of the war. “We only managed to finish the post-production now,” he explains. So, the pain you see and feel in Home is incredibly raw and fresh.
There’s one shot that captures this the best: a moment, where the young man is alone in his room and looks at the television. While news footage of the war roars over the screen, we see the reflection of the boy. In a moment of visual brilliance, the erupting fires of a missile completely engulf his reflection. “It wasn’t a planned moment,” Varzhapetyan admits about this visual form of storytelling that underscores the strength of this film. “It was improvised actually on set, when the television was playing and we decided to shoot it like this.” It goes to show that Varzhapetyan had to be in the right mindset to make this heartfelt and personal film. “For me, Home was all about finding the right tools and instruments to do this story justice.”
Hugo Emmerzael
Varzhapetyan’s fifth short film is a sensitive dedication to some of his close friends that he has lost in the war for Nagorno-Karabakh. “I wanted to honor the lives of my friends with this work,” the young director explains in Yerevan, the morning before Home screens in the Apricot Stone competition of GAIFF. “Simultaneously, this film was a kind of way to release all these emotions and feelings that had accumulated since the war.”
It's release in 2024 might hint at years of reflection and processing of grief, but in reality Varzhapetyan conceived the film about two years ago, during the immediate aftermath of the war. “We only managed to finish the post-production now,” he explains. So, the pain you see and feel in Home is incredibly raw and fresh.
There’s one shot that captures this the best: a moment, where the young man is alone in his room and looks at the television. While news footage of the war roars over the screen, we see the reflection of the boy. In a moment of visual brilliance, the erupting fires of a missile completely engulf his reflection. “It wasn’t a planned moment,” Varzhapetyan admits about this visual form of storytelling that underscores the strength of this film. “It was improvised actually on set, when the television was playing and we decided to shoot it like this.” It goes to show that Varzhapetyan had to be in the right mindset to make this heartfelt and personal film. “For me, Home was all about finding the right tools and instruments to do this story justice.”
Hugo Emmerzael