The continued endeavour to explore global cinema, particularly looking at films that contain some sense of comedy, has opened entirely new avenues of artistic expression, and provided some fascinating insights into how different cultures at various points in history tell their stories on screen. Azerbaijan has a solid cinematic culture, albeit one that is mostly quite underseen, at least in comparison to some neighbouring countries. A film that is quite regularly recommended is Our Teacher Jabish (Azerbaijani: Bizim Cäbish Müällim), which is considered one of the country’s most beloved classics, and one that encapsulates the spirit of both the culture and its people at a very particular point in time. It’s not difficult to see why this is often used as an entry-point into Azerbaijan’s national cinema, since it contains many strong components, such as the perfect balance of comedy and drama, a very accessible story that can be easily understood by those without much knowledge of the country and its history, and overall a strong sense of direction that emphasizes its more unique qualities in a manner that feels genuine and endearing, while still also being quite provocative in how it explores certain themes. Written and directed by Hasan Seyidbeyli, the film follows quite a simple narrative, which focuses on the trials and tribulations of the titular character, a well-liked teacher and pillar of his community who has to endure various challenges as he takes on the role of an elder within his neighbourhood, guiding them through the bleakest days of the Second World War, as well as helping soften the impact of living under Soviet rule, something that becomes quite a contentious point amongst the community. A simple but very effective character-based drama that is as intriguing as it is heartwrenching, Our Teacher Jabish is a tremendous achievement, a film that may seem small in scale, but has a grit and ambition that vastly outweighs its intimacy, becoming a powerful and often quite charming social drama about life during wartime.

It has often been said, perhaps ad nauseum, that teaching is the one profession that makes all other professions possible. It’s a common phrase that borders on being taut, but it’s nonetheless truthful, which is essentially what the director was using at the foundation for this film, at least in terms of the initial ideas that informed it. This is where Our Teacher Jabish finds most of its humour, since at least the first two-thirds are centered around offering observations into the daily life of the titular character as he interacts with a range of characters, including his students and members of the community that look to him as a pillar of wisdom that can offer guidance through their various challenges, not being aware that he is just as confused and befuddled by some of these incidents as they are. Seyidbeyli is intent on paying tribute to the elders that reside within communities – much like any society, the Azerbaijani way of life is very much rooted in giving respect and credence to those who have gained experience from life, and who are willing to impart their knowledge to help enrich the lives of the younger generation. It’s very obvious, but it touches on universal themes, which is a good approach to such a film, considering the foundation is firmly planted in something that is recognizable from within any cultural group. Having the protagonist be a teacher only further emphasizes this point, as well as allowing the film to be enshrouded in a solid layer of humour, a lot of the comedy coming from the eccentric interactions between various characters, which may seem lightweight but have a gravity to them that is difficult to overlook, and which sets the tone and introduces many of the more sobering themes we encounter throughout the film.

Our Teacher Jabish is a film that is as structurally inventive as it is narratively quite profound, and the impact is found in how it balances both components with tact and elegance, while still leaving quite an impression. The style may seem simple at first glance, since it essentially revolves around different vignettes that portray the day-to-day life of the citizens of this neighbourhood in Baku, which is shown to be a city filled with many charming stories, a few of which we get to see as the protagonist voyages through the city as part of his daily routine. Seyidbeyli composes the film to be akin to a tapestry of different stories, each scene (at least those towards the beginning of the film) being reminiscent of a very particular kind of narrative, which is one that is less about the story and more about setting a very particular mood. Most of this film is quite playful and charming – the interactions between characters are thrilling, particularly those between the slightly grouchy but still very charming Mr Jabish and his young students, whose adoration for their teacher manifests in the most delightful form of mischief. However, we should not be misled into thinking that these random episodes in the lives of these people are entirely without purpose, since certain elements act as an adhesive between them, binding them together in a broad and fascinating depiction of life in the city at this particular point in time. Azerbaijan unfortunately does not have the benefit of being viewed as a country with a lot of international exposure in terms of their artistic or cultural output, so its likely global viewers will go into this film without too much knowledge of the traditions and history, which is why providing such a sweeping glimpse into the culture and its people serves a very important purpose, and one that the director executes with such incredible precision. It doesn’t disqualify it from being a very lovable film, but rather one that feels richer and more evocative as a result.

However, as delightful and effervescent as it may be at times, Our Teacher Jabish is a much deeper and more serious film once we move past the initial comedic elements and start to focus on the sub-text, which is present from the beginning but only start to become integral to the plot as the story progresses. The fact that this film is set during the Second World War is neither incidental nor merely a contextual detail. Instead, it’s an element that comes to define the story, since the film presents an analysis of the lives of these people as they do their best to go about their daily routine, always being aware that danger is lingering around every corner. There is a sense of muted anxiety that we find growing more prominent as the film progresses – characters walk the streets knowing that bombs could be dropped at any moment, or that they might hear the thundering cacophony of an invasion into their small community. They celebrate when they hear enemy efforts have been derailed, but still carry the weight of knowing that they are living under a system that may not have their best interests at heart. The director, who was not known for propagandic work but was more positively-aligned with Soviet ideologies than some of his peers across the union, doesn’t give too much attention to the domestic politics, which is mostly a smart decision considering it would have likely been received with much less warmth both within the country of origin and outside of it, the focus instead being kept mainly on the more relevant subject of life during an ongoing global conflict. These ideas prove to offer incredible insights into a society rapidly changing. Our Teacher Jabish is as much about civilian life during war as it is about the aftermath of such a conflict, which can change the fabric of entire societies. These are the deeper conversations that underpin this film, and which make it such an intimidating but beautiful cultural document.

Art produced after war usually tends to explore the death (both proverbial and literal) of traditions, and Our Teacher Jabish is not an exception, being a poignant and heartwrenching glimpse into the impact the war had on the country, rendered in bleak and direct terms, consistently avoiding being too overly didactic or heavy-handed, but still leaving a profound impression on the viewer.  A film like this is only going to make an impact if it draws us into its world, introducing us to a variety of different ideas while still staying true to its overall intentions, which prove to be far richer and more interesting in practice than we may initially have expected. It’s a simple premise, but one with a lot of depth, and which the director manages to master through simply exploring the most fundamental aspects of the culture through focusing on interactions between characters, rather than attempting to make any overtly bold statements. It’s a well-crafted, meaningful film that seamlessly blends comedy and drama in its continued pursuit to present something daring and insightful, provoking thought and providing a thoroughly moving glimpse into this culture and its people during quite a challenging time in their history. Beautifully-crafted, exceptionally well-acted (particularly from Süleyman Ələsgərov, who plays the titular character with such interminable compassion) and driven by a deeply moving sense of humanity, it is not difficult to understand why Our Teacher Jabish has come to be seen as a vitally important and cherished work of Azerbaijani cinema.