The Forgiveness of Blood

Modern world clashes with ancient law in Albania in the dark 'The Forgiveness of Blood'

By BETSY SHARKEY (Los Angeles Times)

LOS ANGELES -- "The Forgiveness of Blood," a dark saga about the clash of modern times and ancient traditions in rural Albania, is more a story of whispers when cries are what's called for with lives, livelihoods and family honor on the line.

The eye-for-an-eye price of settling such disputes, and the hope of a new generation to escape the sins of their fathers, drives cowriter-director Joshua Marston's fitful new film.

Though Marston is once again rooting around in the harsh realities of cultural mores, particularly for the young, the movie lacks the emotional jolt of his splendid "Maria Full of Grace" in 2004. For the pregnant Columbian teen in "Maria," it was both the escape promised and the toll exacted of being a drug mule. For Nik (Tristan Halilaj), the young Albanian in the middle of "Forgiveness," it is the repercussions of his father's fight, one that leaves the teenager a virtual prisoner in his own home.The film opens with the contrasting realities of Nik's life. He's a typical teenager, finishing up high school, obsessing over his looks, flirting with a classmate. He's also the oldest son, helping his father, Mark (Refet Abazi), hitch an ox to the wagon, which is both the family's main source of income and its only transportation. His father's days are spent delivering fresh-baked bread around the village, while Nik spends his texting friends, retooling computers and dreaming of opening an Internet cafe.

Natura Morta or Still Life

How is life? Is it a canvas? Do we just slosh the sunset on a piece of plaster? Yes, it is. We can change what we want to, erase that black smudge, but we cannot change what we have done in the past. With focus and determination, your painting can be as well-known as DaVinci's greatest masterpiece. There is no limit. I created both paintings with a bit of assistance and patience, which is hard to seek in a character like I. Your canvas lies in your artistic hands. You make the most out of it.

Ide Kayla

Rags or Riches....which is better?

Two girls. What stands between them are riches, piled to the brim. Lovely gold coins spill on oak floors covered with elegant carpets. Velvet seats, smooth are scattered. What is another life? How is it like, to step into a different world. Friends, let us find out. Picture sitting on a coal box, the harsh, bitter wind beating your face. Feet bare, resting on ice, causing to create black and blue gashes.

There is a girl, spoiled rotten, tresses expensively curled and bursting with ribbons. Never exposed to the world of hard work, leave out that she worked at all. Treated as well as a king, this girl hides within the lavish furnishing and never has met a peasant.  There is a girl, clothed in rags and a slick of mud. Once being handsome, life treated this girl despite her gentle nature, as a torrent. Stomach growling loudly, the child bypasses through the bust streets of yesterday's London, scavenging for something to engulf.

Now, the story I tell you, you would think how a wealthy girl can meet such a poor child. "Why, your dressings are absolutely filthy!" she gawks. Having nothing to defend herself, the scrawny girl shrugs, in attempt to drive the other child away. What's she lollygagging in a place like this, anyways?

The otherwise rich girl shook her head, muttering: "Oh, lord, what sorts of family do you own anyways?" Repeating her gesture, the other child mumbles, "Got no family..." Scowling, the wealthy heiress says, "Impossible, you damned, wretched thing. There has to be some family of yours." The poor "thing" glared at her.

"I'm sooo unhappy! My lame father treats me like a dog," whined the spoiled one. "I suppose you feel the same," she continues, unsure of her footing. Sticking her snout in the air, the poor one uttered a whisper "Then I am much happier than you." Surprisingly, the whiner's face crumbled as she burst into tears. The day faded long ago, foreign to history.

What is better readers, you tell me. Why did the wealthy one cry? Which side would you choose? Question at your own limit.

Ide Kayla