Review: The Other Side of Despair (Switzerland) by Varsy Buchmann "an acute characterization of not just one man, but the power of art as a whole"

A man looks out the window of his workshop, the room behind him blanketed in shadows. He is Art Petrosan, an Armenian artist who, amidst the Nagorno-Karabakh conflict, continues to create art. The film paints a portrait of Art, his work, and what it means to him. We watch him set fire to one of his paintings, the frame dropping to the ground with a thud. He tells us this is the tenth painting he’s burned so far, and he has no plans to stop. He ties the ashes in cloth, sealing it with black paint, before starting work on a new project. With a canvas spread out on the floor, he begins swirling black paint with his hands. Anxious violins screech in the background as Art coats the paint in plastic bags. He takes a blowtorch to it, melting the plastic and paint together into a viscous, obsidian pastiche. Art explains how his work conveys feelings and emotions; his latest piece is no different.

In displaying Art’s unique process of calculated self-destruction, The Other Side of Despair acts as an acute characterization of not just one man, but the power of art as a whole. The film explores how creativity, when birthed from a place of deep emotion, is shaped and reshaped by external forces. Most importantly, it poses powerful questions regarding the relationship between individuality and artistic expression, as well as the malleability of art itself.

Review by Shane McKevitt for Venice Film Week