Dry Leaf review – three-hour amble around the football pitches of Georgia in search of a daughter

Despite its interesting low-res look, Alexandre Koberidze’s mystifying film is needlessly contrived

G eorgian film-maker Alexandre Koberidze appeared to revive the spirit of the French New Wave with his previous film What Do We See When We Look at the Sky? – an unhurried, meandering and garrulous movie with its own cheeky sort of low-tech magic realism as it followed its nose around the city of Kutaisi. His new film is a mystifying three-hour road movie, shot (as was his debut film Let the Summer Never Come Again) on low-res video, like that of an obsolete cameraphone. It is even more challenging and I have to admit it defeated me, despite some intriguing qualities, including a dry touch of comedy.

A middle-aged man called Irakli (David Koberidze) receives a letter addressed to him and his wife, Nino (Irina Chelidze), from their twentysomething photographer daughter Lisa, announcing that she wishes to disappear from their lives. A police officer tells them that Lisa is an adult who can do what she likes. But an oddly emotionless Irakli sets out to track her down anyway, even though another more conventionally plausible movie would have found room for a conversation about the cost of a private detective. Lisa was photographing football fields when she vanished, so Irakli’s plan is just to drive around the country’s football fields, asking people nearby if they’ve seen her. The result is many desultory conversations with people who are apparently nonprofessional actors.

With Irakli in the car is Lisa’s friend Levani who is … invisible. We hear him. We don’t see him. (The same goes for some of the people that Irakli talks to.) This invisibility creates a baffling extra level of oddity and contrivance to this film, which, for me, added and created nothing. As a formal experiment, Dry Leaf has its own conviction and self-possession and there is a deliberate, if opaque artistry here: one shot shows us a dry leaf under Irakli’s car-tyres, another gives us wet leaves in a waterfall. The soft-edged, pixelated look is, however, interesting and surprisingly watchable, bringing a kind of painterly effect.