THE STORY – Chronicles Haji Zeynalabdin Taghiyev’s life as an oil magnate and his extensive charitable work in late 19th and early 20th-century Baku.
THE CAST – Perviz Memmedrzayev, Qurban Ismayilov, Nurlan Murselzade, Yusif Qasimli, Natavan Haciyeva & Manaf Süleymanov
THE TEAM – Zaur Gasimli (Director/Writer), Ismayil Iman & Asif Iskenderli (Writers)
THE RUNNING TIME – 104 Minutes
There’s nothing quite like a rousing historical epic to capture the attention of a viewer. It’s an opportunity to go back in time and see recreations of settings long since passed. Sometimes, we may look at these entries with curiosity to discover some unknown event that deserves exploration, or at least a moment in time that may need greater context to understand the vast complexities at play. The timeline can stretch out to grandiose limits, so finding the right framework to express this story is crucial. The tapestry being woven for “Taghiyev: Oil” is no short supply of the grand scale it aims to represent. It is an impressive marvel of craftsmanship, but one often undercut by its intentionally incomplete narrative.
The film opens in 1922, when an American journalist finds himself in Azerbaijan chasing an unbelievable story. Within the confines of the town he’s currently in, he crosses paths with a legendary figure. Haji Zeynalabdin Taghiyev (Qurban Ismayilov) was once known as a great, imposing figure in the nation, a man who built his fortune by managing his oil empire, accumulating enough wealth to become a millionaire, and extending it into great philanthropic work. However, his fortune was lost under Soviet control of the region, and he no longer holds the status he once enjoyed. However, his story yearns to be told, so he agrees to sit down with this reporter to divulge his backstory. This is when he sees his younger self (Parviz Mamedrzaev) battle the headwinds of doubtful critics, financial crises, and a turbulent domestic life that will eventually lead to his first significant investment finally paying off.
From the very first frame, it is clear that director Zaur Gasimli is putting on an incredibly remarkable display of craft. The assemblage of elements to represent these locations from so far back in time feels detailed and layered. The cinematography captures the imposing scenery, with its hues of desert brown and blue adding an extra layer of appreciation. The production design is the most notable, especially with the imposing oil rig and all its intricate mechanical facets that bring this giant piece of machinery to life. It’s often quite evocative of “There Will Be Blood,” and while perhaps not as thoroughly exacting as Jack Fisk’s work in that film, it’s still superb work all the same. Gasimli establishes a believable world through these aspects, and the work soars with its several below-the-line accomplishments.
However, so many of those achievements struggle to make a strong impression when crushed under the weight of hollow storytelling. In a sense, it’s hard to avoid, given the structure of the piece. The film begins with text stating this is a “Part One” venture, meaning whatever conclusion seen here is not intended to be the final mark on this story. Gasimli chooses to focus on the personal turmoil of Taghiyev, a period when the land produced no oil for 5 years. His obsession alienates his business partners and drives a wedge within his family, particularly with his impressionable son, Ismayil (Nurlan Murselzade), after neglecting the health of his dying mother. Yet, so much of this conflict feels drawn out and repetitive. The workers complain about their compensation, unrest continues to fester within the family, and no oil is ever produced. The narrative starts to spin its wheels, arresting any momentum until the final triumphant moments, achieved only after so much monotony.
The notion that this story would have any padding is already an odd feat, given that so many characters surround Taghiyev. Seemingly, this should provide plenty of avenues worthy of dissection. Their inclusion, though, is odd, since the framing device makes Taghiyev the central focus, yet repeatedly feels as if the wide selection of disparate characters suggests a lack of focus on a true protagonist. Yes, there is definitely an anchor present with this man, but many of the workers are given the same amount of exposure for their plights. Ismayil’s concerns about the well-being of his family dovetail into a religious commentary that is meant to clash with the blasphemous modernization represented through this pursuit of oil. Even the journalist gets a moment to tearfully explain his tragic past. These threads contribute to a bloated storyline that reads as arbitrarily expanded and would benefit from more streamlining.
Mamedrzaev is captivating as the lead here, with an endearing presence that effectively conveys how persuasive he could be in maintaining his determination for this task. At the very least, his steadfast composure is a perfect fit for conveying earnest dedication, and when that causes him to lose sight of tending to his important personal affairs, the sadness within is also well-communicated. However, in truth, some of the supporting players around him shine even brighter, especially Murselzade. Yes, there’s probably another glimmer of recognition from Paul Thomas Anderson’s masterpiece, as a child running around an oil rig is very much reminiscent of little H.W. bouncing around various contraptions. Still, Murselzade perfectly embodies that precocious nature without succumbing to an overly sentimental portrayal. The moments that call for more raw emotion are presented without histrionic antics, which is impressive for a young performer. This ensemble is littered with reliable players who fit in nicely with one another, save for the bookending scenes, where Ismayilov, as the older Taghiyev, isn’t as compelling due to the weaker dialogue.
The sprawling nature of “Taghiyev: Oil” is undoubtedly admirable. But sometimes, a scope can grow so large that it becomes ungainly in its presentation. The other chapters promised within this expansive tale may find these stretches justified. Perhaps this is a necessary foundation for the larger story, which can be examined from a macro perspective. However, one can only judge the product that has been laid out, and as is, the narrative is stretched too thin to leave a lasting impact. Whatever engrossing characters there are struggle to maintain their presence due to their sheer number, often distracting from a more streamlined perspective. Yet, all that being said, there’s an undeniable quality here that is captivating. A large part of that is the crafts. Still, there are enough intriguing performances that endear one to this tale, and the journey to persevere against unfavorable odds remains an engaging mission. The trail may be imperfect and only partially drawn, but it also just manages to become a worthwhile endeavor.
