Tulpan

The dusty, sun-bleached flats of Kazakhstan are deftly transformed into a simmering hotbed of romantic and familial intrigue in writer-director Sergei Dvortsevoy’s wise and witty inquiry into the decline of the nomadic lifestyle. Asa (Askat Kuchinchirekov) is the adorably dim ex-sailor whose search for a significant other (specifically, enigmatic local beauty Tulpan) is constantly stymied by his blundering manner, an absence of farming prowess and a gargantuan pair of lugholes.

Yet his protracted period of doomed courtship gives us ample time to examine the fabric of this remote society, as questions about its sustainability, practicality and principles are all raised via involving and often absurd  sketches that riff on the daily struggle.

Despite this being his first fictional film, Dvortsevoy exhibits the storytelling composure and technical proficiency of a veteran, while his keen eye for a pastoral poetic flourish places ‘Tulpan’ firmly among the year’s most endearing cinematic experiences. And how many films can boast a single-take shot of a baby goat being born and receiving mouth-to-mouth resuscitation?