AN ACTOR'S LIFE

Faxraddin Manafov does not particularly like being interviewed. "There is little about me in the press, and I am trying hard to keep it that way. I do not want to talk about myself or share my thoughts. The interest in my persona arises from the fact that I am an actor and people know me, but let me assure you, there are many ordinary people in the world that no one knows, but who might be much more interesting than I am..." However, a few days before the opening night of the costume drama "The Fate of the Ruler," in which Manafov plays the leading character, and a month before being awarded a prize for the bravest character at the East-West Baku film festival, things were different. The actor was late for the meeting with R+, albeit in good mood and ready to talk.  Wearing dark glasses and a suit, his movements fast and a little nervous, Faxraddin Manafov proved to have a sense of humour and self-irony, even when he had to answer questions which were "routine" or "wrong" in his opinion. He is capricious and a little smug, but unimaginably charismatic. At the same time, it is easy to laugh at yourself when you have such a broad experience in both movies and the theatre, when you have already seen the highs and lows, and when you have died and came back to life so many times. People like him for his role as Zaur in Tahmina, although he is already fed up with Zaur's image. Professionals - and not just them - consider him a genius. He does not say that he agrees, but admits that he really is a good actor and considers the work of Russian masters most to his liking. "I grew up watching Soviet movies, was educated in the works of the true geniuses of cinematography, whose names are too many to list now, and Russian moviemakers are very strong to this day. I recently happened to play on the Russian stage at the Modern theatre in Rustam Ibragimbekov's play The Rat, and realized why he had asked me to play:  I was no weaker than my Russian colleagues and at times I was even more convincing."

This is what the real Faxraddin Manafov is like: he knows the true worth of work, not only his work, but also that of his colleagues. He simply must smoke during an interview in which he grows genuinely emotional, but feels uncomfortable lighting his cigarette. Later on, the conversation leads us to mention the name of the unforgettable Rasim Ocaqov, the director who is often called the founder of new realism in Azerbaijani cinematography. And this is not surprising: the movies in which Ocaqov and Faxraddin Manafov worked together -- The Park (1983), The Other Life (1987), The Temple of the Air (1989), Seven Days After Murder (1991), Tahmina (1995), A Hotel Room (1999) - were great creative works, with characters which remain unforgotten by many people and which are evoked as soon as Emin Sabitoglu's music is played. "One of the problems of Azerbaijani cinematography is that, today, there are almost no directors of Rasim Ocaqov's class - and he was very adept at working with young actors." A well-known fact: Faxraddin Manaf oglu was born on Azerbaijani Cinematography Day, 2 August. No one knew in 1955, when he was born, the significance of 2 August, but it played an important role in Manafov's life: he became an actor, although he himself does not know how to explain why that happened. "Why am I an actor?  I don't know. I saw it and was shaken. When did that happen? Maybe when I was a child, or maybe my mother was shaken and I felt it in her womb... Maybe it happened because of my father, who was a really handsome man - a real man who fought the war all the way through, from 1941 to 1947.  He had an amazing voice. Apparently, he too had a great desire to become an actor. I know that he was always proud of me. Many years after his death, I realized why he was proud of me: parents want to see their dreams come true in their children."

Today Manafov acts not only in Azerbaijani, but also in Russian, movies, he works at the Ibrus theatre and is respected for his part in the historical drama The Fate of the Ruler, and not only because it enabled him to do his duty to his Fatherland - the actor's native town is Xankandi. The part of Ibrahim Xalil xan, the ruler of Karabakh, is very close to his nature and even, if you like, to his age too. The stark contrast between the Faxraddin Manafov of the past and the present-day - and most likely the future - Faxraddin Manafov is the first thing that meets the eye: new roles will reflect the experience of all these years. An actor's life is made up of the many destinies he has held in his hands, but it seems that the main thing is that he should be able to grasp and hold on to his own life.

-We would like to hope that at some point, we will say with pride that "this movie" was made in Azerbaijan...

-I am not a critic. I am an actor. I can say that, perhaps unlike you, I have seen the works of several young directors. You can see the Western style and influence. This is certainly not a Russian influence. If I undertook to shoot movies today, I would appeal to memories of the movies and editors who were with me in the Soviet period. They taught me what I know. Our modern youth seeks something completely different. It is the West, the pure West. They have their vision. I think that we should not be at all worried that Azerbaijan is not a cinematographic nation or a footballing nation. We are an oil nation - to each his own, as the saying goes. World cinematography is at a very high level today, which is why it is premature for us to talk about the level of the Azerbaijani cinema. Or even indecent. I note a not very good trend in our country: we make a movie and then say 'It is not shameful to show it.'  What is this saying? What does it mean, "we are not ashamed?" Let me assure you, not a single American or European, or a guy from Mosfilm [a Moscow film studio] would ever say that it is not shameful to show something. They make movies because it is their job to make movies. And we make them and then say that it is not shameful. I recently did the same when I spoke about my movie, The Fate of the Ruler. But, on the other hand, neither should we delude ourselves. If we talk about what is going on in Azerbaijani cinematography today, it may be described in the simplest and most laconic form: it leaves much to be desired. But, I assure you, very soon we too will have that type of movie. After all, there is an Oscar winner in Azerbaijani cinematography, Rustam Ibragimbekov. But even this is not the point. I pin my hopes on youth. I can see that we have young artists; they lack finesse just yet, but they do have a huge potential. There are people who make movies. In time, we'll be where we need to be and everything will be in its place.

-But there were works of Azerbiajani cinematography which are discussed to this day...

-Do you think youth talk about those movies? No, they do not. The older people talk about them. This is simple nostalgia, nothing else. True, those were great films back then, but today they are so na?ve... Right now, I am watching the Soviet TV series, Seventeen Moments of Spring, on a Russian channel. Do you think I watch it because it is a work of a genius? No. It simply reminds me of my youth, of what I felt when I was young and relished those episodes with my father who had fought that war; I remember my father's military decorations. I watch those episodes and see how young and interesting Kuravlev was back then, how handsome was Tikhonov. Yes, we should make better movies and not think about the past. Today the Azerbaijani Government gives huge support to sports. It is nice to hear in the news, or see on the internet, reports that some Azerbaijani sportsperson has won some tournament. Azerbaijani cinematography and football need the same type of support. I used to play football when I was young. But a special programme of assistance is required. For us to have good football, we need to open football schools and send children there, so that in 15-20 years' time these kids can become great sportsmen. And the same is true of the film industry. We simply see youth, actors and directors, studying in the Russian schools, VGIK and GITIS. There are no such schools in Azerbaijan. I think that the opening of the academy of cinematography at the Ibrus theatre by Rustam Ibragimbekov, where prominent Azerbaijani actors teach, is an excellent example. This is a great achievement for us. Young actors and directors study there. Even those who have already produced movies continue to study there. This is what we need to raise our level. And of course, money, a lot of money. Money is a very important aspect in the development of cinematography. The project should be written by cinema and theatre specialists. And perhaps in 15-20 years, we will see the results of the development of Azerbaijani cinema.

-What about the theatre?

-Life is not very good in the theatre either, but there is more than enough material to work on, beginning with the classics and ending with the postmodernists, Azerbaijani, Russian or foreign. There are many good plays. But to develop the art of theatre Azerbaijan needs two things, stage directors and actors. Many Azerbaijani actors are far from having a professional attitude towards what they do. Let me stress again: I am not talking about everyone, but I am talking about many. My teacher Vaqif Ibrahimoglu, stage director at Yug theatre, used to tell me that being an actor takes education, intelligence and many other things. The actor must study, read books, analyze. And a carpenter who makes a stool should have nails, a hammer and wood. These are similar things. And we do not have stage directors either. What we have seen in Russian theatres: direction, discipline, rehearsals. In our country, things are different - a "poor" stage director stages a play and, while it is on stage, another play is rehearsed. This happens because the infrastructure of our theatres is "flimsy." I know a stage director, whose name I will not mention here - he would be ashamed. Once he showed me a notebook - it was a long time ago, about 25 years. "See what I have here," he told me, pointing at his notebook. "There is everything in this notebook, Zakharov, Lyubimov, Tovstonogov, Shapiro. I wrote down everyone here. This is enough to last me a lifetime. I can take any play from this notebook and stage it." Do you understand, he wrote down everything! For example, if Mark Zakharov staged Tartuffe he wrote down the play - who should go where on stage to do or say something. And now he simply casts his actors according to what is in the notebook and stages the play. So much for stage direction. Well, that kind of copying takes some type of talent, too.

-We have very few worthwhile stage directors. But I can mention Hasanov, Vaqif Ibrahimoglu from Yug theatre. There is a different philosophy, different direction there, you may accept it or not, it depends on taste. I left Yug theatre in 1991 because youth, fresh blood, came to the theatre. And it was the right decision. Good actors and directors come out of that theatre - with their own thoughts and views on art. Director Azer Pasa Neymat is a very interesting man, a thinking, profound man. Baxram Osmanov was brilliant in his time. You see, if there are no good directors, there are no good actors either. That is why there should be a project and a blueprint for our theatre too. And this is very important.

-Would you like to receive the fabled Oscar from the American Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences?

-I would certainly like to receive an Oscar. For the simple reason that I understand the value of those types of events. Why do actors and actresses, American or foreign, cry when they receive the coveted statuette? Take the word "masterpiece" as an example. In the past, old masters used to look for masterpieces among the works of his students. And when he found them, he would congratulate him. Why? Masterpiece means not only the brightness and genius of talent, but also the completed work. It means that you have excelled at what you do. And that you can work on your own, furthermore, you can even teach. An Oscar lets the actor believe that now his pay will have no fewer than six zeros at the end. And that means that the director will feel uncomfortable in offering an Oscar winner inappropriate money.  Yes, I do want to win an Oscar - it means that the world has recognized you as an accomplished man of the arts. And even the legendary Cannes Film Festival is less significant than the Oscar ceremony.

-But you told us that a Russian influence on our film industry would be more desirable than a Western one. It seems that your desire to win an American award testifies to the fact that you recognize the West's contribution to the development of cinematography and that the West has some achievements too...

-We are now talking about different things. Russian actors are great actors. In the American film industry, there are only two great actors at present, Anthony Hopkins and Jack Nicholson. And if I start listing the names of the great actors of Soviet cinematography, I will run out of time: Innokentiy Smoktunovskiy, Rostislav Plyatt, Yevgeniy Yevstigneyev.  The skills of the Soviet actors were top level. But back then, things were done according to the "must be done" principle in our country and, in the West, the process followed the principle of "give me a chance and I will do it". That is why things developed so quickly in the West. There, an actor works for a year or two, then, if he or she gets tired and runs out of energy, they can afford to take a break and turn down a $10 million fee. And even if they are offered a billion, they will not start working if they feel tired. That means that it is time for them to go back to study again because they have forgotten things. And they go to school again and study the Stanislavskiy system. And then they go to work again.

-So you would like to work in the United States?

-Of course. The American movies mean money and fame.

-Does one really need a lot of money to be happy?

-Money is one component of happiness, trust me. Money is a very peculiar phenomenon. Money is among the great discoveries of humanity, together with the wheel, the spacecraft or a TV set. The spacecraft and everything else are made possible by money. Look at how many centuries money has survived. It is a nation, a great nation that remains the same. The world changes, but money remains, its form may change, but its essence is the same. I am not averse to the idea of getting paid well for my work. At present, I have to work in several TV series at a time, including in Moscow, to have a decent life. But there is no day or night for me. You can imagine what night frost can be like in Moscow. And you have to come out into that freezing air, naked from your waist up, and break the ice. And you go out and break it. And you have to pretend that all this is wonderful and is your idea of pleasure. That is why they pay you money for this job. And to yourself, you think that your fourth intervertebral cartilage has been displaced and if you do not sit down in three minutes and don't get wrapped up in warm duvets, you will spend at least one and a half months in hospital. Yes, money is a very important part of happiness. That is why I am not going to say that money has nothing to do with happiness. Whether or not you can earn money is a different matter.  If you cannot, it is bad.

-What would you like to change in yourself and in the country where you live?

-It all depends on the people. What happened? The mindset which had taken shape over decades was suddenly destroyed. What happened was incomprehensible. The city has its own culture, its morning and its evening. It has its own way of ambling along a boulevard, and we can see it. And it has its own view of architecture. But suddenly a horrible thing happened. The morning which we were used to is gone, the Bakuvian evening for taking a stroll is gone, the architecture to which we were used has disappeared. Now we need to build our own cosmos from this chaos. To find order in this chaos, you have to be - I do not mean to insult anyone - cultured yourself, educated, you have to be a society - and countless other things are needed. It is very difficult to remain human in this world. I very much respect a person who has a Maybach car. Way to go if he can afford it! But I hate him and want to punish him as a man when he, driving his car along one of the central streets of Baku, opens his window and throws out a juice can. His chic automobile and inappropriate behaviour do not go well together. The GAZ-2410 was the Soviet Maybach. But back then no one would ever allow himself such loutish behaviour. No one threw even a cigarette butt from their window. Now these things happen and well-off people behave like that. True, beating them up is no solution. I do not know. Perhaps to change the world, we should start with ourselves.

I want to say that I thank the Almighty for creating me and, of course, I am grateful to my parents for giving birth to me. Although I do not know how wonderful it would have been not to have been born. After all, there must be some purpose to our coming into this world. I wonder why it happened that I was born a human, not a fish, a toy or a table. I wonder why I was born a man, not a woman, and became an actor and not a turner. There was apparently a need for some kind of balance. Nothing happens for no reason.

P.S.  Faxraddin Manafov says that he could become a good journalist who would be able to elicit all the information of interest from a person. "I would be able to go into the areas which would make that person feel sorry." But Manafov's biggest dream is to open a small restaurant for 20-25 persons which would serve only cheeses and wines from all over the world. "You have to be an artist to some extent no matter what you do. You have to enjoy creativity. Even if you bake a cake at home.  What else should one enjoy life for?  Only for a good wage?" So, money can also make you happy - if you are creative!