An old man observes the world of mountains under the azure sky. He sees the birds singing, his mad wife crying, his children walking, a crippled man sitting, the wind blowing and the azure sky dying and reviving itself…Who will ever close his eyes?

Emil Nolde, Geog Trakl, Joan Mitchell… Many painters have studied blue, in its subtlety and nuances. Egor Skorokhodov is part of this pictorial research, striving to depict the color variations of a Caucasian sky in a film-world where plenitude and harmony reign. The transposition to the cinema involves a series of fixed shots, which combine the majestic views of the mountains of Adjara, in Georgia, with the details of a living nature and the gestures of its inhabitants. The film thus embraces all the lives that inhabit these places, animals, trees, rocks, streams, humans. The arrangement of life flows against a backdrop of a palette of thick and saturated azures and can be heard in a teeming soundtrack that plays with bursts and silences. While outside, an opaque mist caresses the tops of the fir trees, the bright eyes of an old man with chiseled features pierce the darkness of an interior barely lit by the blue light of dawn. The presence of humans – more archetypes than characters – and the expression of their feelings are indicated by touches, amplified off-screen, intensified by the vibration of the image through the hypnotic decomposition of certain gestures. Thus of these bare feet that strike against the ground as if to make the day fall in breathless jerks and bring us back to the depth of darkness. From night to night, Egor Skorokhodov invites us to contemplation. And if for the time of a shot he reverses the horizon, thus translating the movement of the earth, it is perhaps to make us experience that of the sky and its colors: how the azure dies.