Romance tends to take many different forms, especially when it comes to portraying it on screen. Several directors have approached the idea of love from varying standpoints, but one of the most earnest cinematic representations of romance comes on behalf of Dover Kosashvili, whose masterful Late Marriage (Hebrew: חתונה מאוחרת) is a sensory bombardment, a challenging and endearing dark comedy that launches itself directly into the centre of the experience of passion, focusing on the intersections between satisfying family (and by extent, the sacred traditions came with it) and pursuing the desires of the heart. As the hackneyed sentiment goes, there’s a difference between love and marriage, and this has rarely been explored with as much genuine heart and authenticity as it was in Late Marriage, a poignant voyage into the life of a young man caught between doing what is expected of him, and chasing after an ideal that goes against not only his principles, but the entire sacrosanct system that he is supposed to be defining his life by. Kosashviliputs together such an enthralling, complex exploration of love in its various iterations, creating a truly touching demonstration of the lengths to which some will go to satiate their desires, following their heart against all odds, especially the restraints put on us by generations of familial traditions. Tied together with a wonderfully melancholic form of heartfelt comedy, but not dismissing the darkly comical undercurrents, Late Marriage is a resounding success, and one of the most effective, charming films on the subject of following your instincts and surrendering to your desires when it comes to romance, ever produced for the screen.

When it comes to making a film centring almost entirely on the trials and tribulations of someone falling in love, it helps to approach the story from a very simple perspective. Late Marriage isn’t necessarily a complex film in theory – an immensely traditional family attempt to set their son up with a young woman in what is only a few steps removed from an arranged marriage. The son goes along with the masquerade enough to keep them happy, but not to the point where he actually shows himself as willing to take the plunge, particularly since he has his own plans, secretly romancing a slightly older woman who may be entirely deviant from his parents’ ideals of a good wife, but who sets off a passion in him that none of the vapid young women he has been coerced into courting seem to be able to evoke. There isn’t much more than this in Late Marriage on a purely conceptual level – so it goes without saying that this film finds its voice in the more abstract regions of the premise, where certain moments are repurposed to be steadfast glimpses into the lives of these characters as they navigate a situation that could either been seen as a great romance between two people truly in love, or an act of rebellion against traditions, a dismissal of everything a certain faction of society holds to be the unimpeachable truth – and it all depends on the perspective. Kosashvili is an incredibly gifted director, and in putting this story together, he managed to comment critically on different societal traditions, all the while managing to produce something funny, touching and meaningful, giving audiences access to a delightfully irreverent (un)romantic comedy that wears its heart on its sleeve and intends to take us on a thoroughly entertaining journey into the heart of an ordinary relationship.

The concept of regularity is imperative to the successes of Late Marriage, since everything Kosashvili is conveying with this film carries the sensation of addressing conventions without being too revolutionary. It’s a familiar formula – someone deviates from standards by following his own path, much to the chagrin of the older generation, which see this as disrespect towards traditions, rather than forging one’s own way. This is an omnipresent theme in nearly every work that looks at inter-generational stories, which is essentially exactly what Late Marriage, once you break it down beyond the basic premise. Kosashvili has a firm grasp on all sides of the story, to the point where the film actually manages to be far more profound than we’d expect based on a surface analysis of the story. This is a primarily provocative film – from the first frame, we’re thrust into a recognizable version of the world. The director employs a slight absurdity to the proceedings, with the eccentric characters that traverse the film being fascinating embodiments of various archetypal roles that Kosashvili first builds up, and then gradually deconstructions throughout the duration of the film. It’s not a particularly challenging film, insofar as the director makes sure that there is always a sense of cohesion, so the viewer doesn’t get lost in this world (since many similarly-themed films tend to require a working knowledge of the customs and traditions of a particular culture, which isn’t necessary here, as everything we need to know is presented to us throughout the film), and can rather focus on luxuriating in this wonderfully demented version of our world that Kosashvili and his cohorts are so enamoured with exploring here.

Late Marriage is a film that carries quite a weight on its shoulders – on one hand, its an effervescent comedy about a group of individuals struggling through the realization that sometimes the heart simply wants what it wants. On the other, it’s a rousing call to arms for every viewer to take umbrage to the social conventions that tend to weigh us down and force us into positions of moral servitude. Part of the brilliance of this film is how the director was able to put these two radically different concepts together, to the point where Late Marriage was promoted as “a funny-sad tale”, which is the perfect description for this film, not only in terms of the tone it takes, but also the wealth of themes it is exploring. Breaking down a common story to the fundamentally human level and employing a small but dedicated ensemble to interpret the film – with the charismatic Lior Ashkenazi and the incredible Ronit Elkabetz being the standouts – Kosashvili creates an unforgettable tapestry of existence that cuts to the emotional core of every scene. The audience is fully under the control of the director, with every lighthearted scene being filled with laughter and genuine joy, while the more challenging moments are harrowing and tend to be quite haunting. There’s a shortage of neither, and through keeping everything open to interpretation (albeit to a degree), we’re given the chance to get to know these characters and understand them as fully-formed individuals, rather than thin constructions that serve very little purpose outside of being representatives of a broader set of themes. It’s an inspired approach that may seem obvious in retrospect, but truly elevates this film far beyond the confines of the more meagre romantic comedies we tend to see quite regularly.

It’s always a delight to find a film that features such a steadfast appreciation for the most fundamental aspects of our existence, and the director, through employing a very simple but effective means of exploring one of the most visceral experiences many of us go through – the process of falling in love – and funnelling it through a story of, more than anything else, societal expectations and the disconnect between traditions and the matters of the heart, constructs a cutting-edge satire that is as moving as it is thought-provoking. It’s not always perfect – it appears to be working from a shoestring set of resources and isn’t particularly notable on a creative level – but it compensates for these formal shortcomings through employing an exceptionally imaginative approach to the underlying material. This is not necessarily an experimental film, nor is it one that intends to be groundbreaking in any way. Instead, it’s a delightfully irreverent romp that carries a weight that may not be expected based on a quick glance at its premise, rather functioning as a slow-burning social drama delivered in the form of a life-affirming romantic comedy. As the director shows, one doesn’t necessarily need to invalidate the other, and the final product is a stunning achievement that manages to be so incredibly profound, while still giving us the joy of being able to look into the lives of a group of people who may certainly be very familiar to us, and to glean some meaning from the most basic human interactions, which ultimately means so much more than we ever imagined, instantly situating Late Marriage as an essential film that touches on the most visceral sides of human nature, and manages to be truly moving in the process.