He first tackled the theme of war in his short film Nest (2012). In this film, a middle-aged beggar unexpectedly arrives at a remote village, at the home of a family. It is revealed that this unexpected guest is the first husband of the woman, who had been held captive in Armenia for a long time. The former husband wishes to reclaim his family and home, but the second husband refuses to yield. The ending is left open: the director deliberately avoids revealing who “won” as his aim was not to highlight a victor but to show the suffering of individuals trapped in desperate situations created by war. In the dialogues and descriptions, the author does not emphasize the Karabakh War, opting for a universal approach akin to that of a parable.
In the following years, Emin Afandiyev revisited the theme of war in his documentaries (Valor of the Motherland, Teacher, Guardian Angel), where he more specifically identified the territory and characters. Despite this specificity, he strives to tell stories on a universal level, focusing on the emotions of justice and truth, on the selflessness and sacrifice of heroes for the sake of the Motherland. The filming is as natural and cinematic as possible, with the director rarely using dialogue. Instead, he prefers that the memories of the heroes be told in a conversational style, as if the camera happened to be present during the discussion.
In the feature film Monologue of a Lonely Man (Tənha insanın monoloqu), which premiered this year in Baku on National Cinema Day, Emin Afandiyev maintains the overarching discourse introduced in Nest. Once again, the story reveals the concept of “a person suffering from the consequences of war,” but this time, the focus on the Karabakh War is more apparent.
Monologue of a Lonely Man is a classic story of a father and son. The author enriches it with new details and meanings, elevating it beyond a domestic drama by adding the context of war to the complex relationship between father and son. The father, a veteran of the First Karabakh War (Mahir Darvish), suffers from a concussion and post-war trauma, having been taken prisoner, which has severely damaged his nerves. The caring and loving father has become a different person under the influence of the war. Their conflict is shaped by both mental and patriarchal factors, but the destruction of the family is primarily caused by the psychological trauma the father endured due to the war. Even during the ceasefire, the war within the family continues, manifesting in new ways: in the father’s authoritarianism, his cruelty, inability to get along with others, and the constant tension in the household.
The director sets the action over the course of a single day. The opening scenes of serene nature, accompanied by minor, lyrical music (by Azer Hadjiasgarli), already provide the initial impulses for understanding the essence of the story. The son (Elshan Asgarov), drafted into the Second Karabakh War, plans to place his bedridden father, who has almost lost the ability to speak, in a nursing home, following the doctor’s advice.
The exposition creates an image of a caring son. The author employs an interesting technique: each time the son performs a domestic task (cleaning up after his father, taking him outside for fresh air, plucking a chicken, bringing him to the graves of his prematurely deceased brother and mother, feeding, shaving, bathing him, going hunting, etc.), a past episode is recalled. Thus, the family drama is pieced together bit by bit until the final scene. In this way, the detailed domestic scenes are never empty; they serve to fully unfold the drama.
In each memory, the son experiences a range of emotions: love, suffering, hatred, longing, joy, disappointment, helplessness, hope, and pride. These feelings naturally reflect his inner state. The father, on the other hand, responds to his son’s emotions only through the expression in his eyes: he agrees, rejoices, loves, protests, gets angry, and so on.
Despite his conflicting feelings, the director does not portray the son as cynical. Although the father has inflicted emotional wounds on him, the son continues to care for him without losing his compassion. Even when he admits to his father that he once wanted to kill him, there is a deep pain and emptiness in his eyes. In Monologue of a Lonely Man, Elshan Asgarov, unlike his lackluster performance in Marble Cold, shines. Completely immersed in his role, he convincingly and naturally conveys the full range of psychophysical and emotional states.
One of the most expressive and aesthetically well-executed scenes in the film is the son’s confession. In this scene, cinematographer Daniil Guliyev captures the son in such a way that all his inner turmoil is clearly visible, with his sensitive expressions conveying more than words ever could. In several scenes, the father and son are framed together, reflecting their moods in sync with the given situation, whether it’s alienation, closeness, or an attempt to restore their painful relationship. In the hunting scene, the father is shown from two angles. The view of his back and immobile body, shot from behind, contrasts with his pale, disappointed face reflected in the window, emphasizing the gravity of the situation better than any words could. Overall, the mise-en-scène and camera angles, which complement the characters’ psychological and emotional states, as well as the collaboration between the director, cinematographer, and actor, significantly influenced the final result.
The film’s title is also fitting. In this story, both the father and son are lonely. Their isolation is underscored by their detachment from society and their surroundings.
War has turned them both into victims. The father sacrificed his health for the Motherland, the family fell apart, and the son sacrificed himself for his father. As events unfold, the father refuses to live in a nursing home and chooses death. By informing his son of his wish to die, he completes his unfinished mission; he sacrifices himself for the Motherland a second time, by refusing food and medicine, thereby freeing his son from the burden of worrying about him during the war.
Mahir Darvish truly rises to the challenge. According to Emin Afandiyev, he had always envisioned Darvish in the role of the father:
“His physical characteristics were also a good fit. I had considered another actor for the role of the son, but due to scheduling conflicts, it didn’t work out. After some searching, we settled on Elshan Asgarov. Elshan is a deeply thoughtful actor, reflective, and aware. We rehearsed extensively with the actors. On set, we analyzed scenes and the characters’ psychological states. It was a comfortable working environment. I don’t restrict my actors; I give them the freedom to improvise, within the character’s framework.”
The director favors poetic imagery. According to Daniil Guliyev, the goal was to depict the family drama in contrast with the natural beauty: “We aimed to convey poetry. Based on this, I reviewed some reference materials. Some people have noted a Mirror by Tarkovsky-like atmosphere in the first and last scenes. However, the village entrance wasn’t poetic; it was just an ordinary road, without depth. On the way back, we saw this spot and decided to shoot it. All the angles were chosen in harmony with the landscape, not inspired by any particular film. Additionally, the compositions and mise-en-scène were built according to what I felt on location, which I discussed with Emin. However, the primary inspiration for color and lighting came from the films The Banshees of Inisherin and The Eight Mountains.”
In the overall visual concept, nature is sometimes portrayed as a nightmare born of the character’s traumas and fears, as in the hunting scene, where the father tries to pull the trigger, but all he hears is his son’s ominous scream as he walks towards infinity against the setting sun.
In some scenes, music enhances the emotional power, becoming a crucial element (especially in the beginning, the finale, and the scene where the son washes his father’s feet), but in others, it might have been better to rely solely on natural sounds.
In the end, the son’s message, “We will win,” resonates on both a military and a personal level.
Monologue of a Lonely Man is a story of fractured and exhausted relationships between father and son. However, above all, it is a story about love; sometimes, one suffers from an excess of love, which then transforms into opposing feelings.
