Magazine Mar/Apr 2011 Fabled Filmmaker
Fabled Filmmaker
It feels somewhat strange to write about Rob Sahakyants, whom I had not met in person. On the other hand, there are so many things that make us feel his presence in our lives: his films (Rob hates the word ‘animated’), his aphorisms, and the endless stories about him – funny, sad or sometimes shocking – that his acquaintances, friends and family are willing to tell for hours…
The Chairman of Armenia’s State Committee of Cinematography Gevorg Ayrian and his colleagues finished viewing the animated film of young director Robert Sahakyants The Book of the Fox (Lysia Kniga) based on the fables of Vardan Aygektsi and Mkhitar Gosh, wrapped in the insanely surrealistic design of artist Ovanes Dilakian and complemented by the rock music of David Azarian. The year was the reactionary 1975. It had to be decided whether to grant permission for the film’s release. Slightly shocked by what he’d seen, Ayrian turned to those present and inquired whether anyone understood what exactly had transpired on the screen. The head of Armenfilm studios Karen Kalantar admitted, “I watched it twice and did not get a thing. But I asked my boys and they say it’s brilliant.” Ayrian did not think long before announcing the verdict: “One time I did not want to approve Color of Pomegranates and then it turned out to be Parajanov’s [masterpiece]. If I don’t allow this today and it’ll be a mistake again, I’ll disgrace myself for life.” His book approved. And, although it hadn’t reached a broad audience, it made Sahakyants one of the most prominent Soviet animators. The film itself became the forerunner of a whole new trend: several years later Alexander Tatarskiy would say that his legendary Plasticine Crow (Plastilinovaya Vorona) is nothing more than a remake of Rob’s work…
Destined to draw, Sahakyants had to do battle to find success. All his life, he fought literally and figuratively for what he believed was right. During his childhood in Baku, not a single day passed without a scrap with his peers. It was not without reason though – he had to defend his nationality. Because of that, his family eventually had to move to Yerevan. It turned out that in this city, Sahakyants would discover his vocation and life’s work, while Armenian animation would find in him its brightest representative. Coincidentally at that time – the end of the 60s – Valentin Podpomogov was working on restoration of the animation studio founded in 1937 by Lev Atamanov.
Rob’s mother saw a newspaper ad inviting young talents and asked her young hippie-like son to try it. She had long noticed his creativity and penchant for drawing, although he did not think of himself as gifted in arts. With no serious hope – just to please his mom – Rob went to the studio. When they asked him to draw something at home and come back with it in a couple of days, he said, “Better if I draw it right here otherwise you will not believe I’ve done it myself.” They told him to draw a horse and Rob made several sketches of a running animal in various positions as it is usually done in animation. There and then it was announced that, “this hippie will make a great animator.”
Sahakyants belonged to the so-called Soviet hippies. So he wore long hair and a beard and listened to rock music, even though it was prohibited at the time. That notwithstanding, he didn’t use drugs or profess free love. He always worked, always came home on time, didn’t run away from the family to dubious communes – and yet considered himself a more authentic hippie than his western counterparts. As for animation, after the ‘horse’ episode, he had taken residency in Moscow and returned to Yerevan where he became one of the animation artists at Armenfilm. Soon arrived the first opportunity for his debut. One of the studios’ directors was to make a film titled Lilit on the motif of an Armenian miniature to the music of Tigran Mansurian. Somehow the director hadn’t attended to his duties and, after five months, was fired. The project was assigned to Rob who successfully coped with the task. Lilit was important not only as Sahakyants’ debut, but also as his first joint effort with Lyudmila – a high school classmate whom he married not long before starting the project. Lyulya, as Rob called her, immediately joined the studio and worked with him for several decades.
Fables on Film
Shortly afterward was born the idea to make a non- standard film based on the fables of Vardan Aygektsi and Mkhitar Gosh. Yet just as Sahakyants was about to start working on The Book of the Fox, a whole campaign was waged against him and eventually the script was taken away. But all other contenders rejected the script, unable to fathom how it could be realized. Thus, the management had to give it back to Rob who along with artist Ovik Dilakian and composer David Azarian, created a piece no less than a rock opera. The project struggled through several bureaucratic layers and made history. The next Sahakyants-Dilakian tandem was another rock opera – a surrealistic story on the motif of Khachatur Abovian’s Hunters. Again, the new film staggered (film critic Fyodor Khitruk concisely characterized it as a ‘bomb’), and failed to make it to the big screen. But was it enough to stop Sahakyants? Of course not.
Go Big or Go Home
One of Rob’s notable character traits is his maximalism, which was apparent from his adolescence.He was most proud of the fact that he was not the proverbial bespectacled intellectual. Once, when Sahakyants’ family moved to a new neighborhood, his daughter Nana and her friend were beaten by a local drunkard. All the neighbors were pondering how to handle the situation as it was clear that the friend’s father would simply kill the offender. Meanwhile Rob (who they all assumed was merely a meek artist) came back from work. Having learned what had happened, furious Rob broke into the drunk’s place and sent him face down the stairs of all four floors. “Since then, everybody in our yard respected intellectuals,” reminisced Nana with a smile, “and he was insanely proud of it.”
