Simon, rather an ordinary Soviet scientist, an ornithologist in his forties, who perhaps would interrelate more willingly with birds than humans, humbly lives his ordinary Soviet life filled with nothing else but heart exhausting and well organized solitude. But something promises to change when a strange woman with a drama of her own enters his life.As they meet for the first time, it turns out that she has been following her husband, who is having an affair with a woman of bad reputation, who happened to be Simon’s neighbor and was too often having crazy parties at her basement apartment right bellow Simon’s home.
A few days later they meet for the second time. It’s a cold rainy evening, and Simon sees her standing alone and disheartened: she is on watch again, although there is no use in it any more as she confesses. Simon feels he has to invite her to come in, to warm up and have a rest. They talk, they get cordial, and compassion grows into affection as her story begins to unfold, accompanied with the sounds of yet another crazy party which was going on in the basement apartment. And her heartbreak gets even worse as they hear the sounds of the flute, played by her husband and repeatedly interrupted by the wild shouts of drunken guests…

Then she comes to see Simon for the third time…
* * *

The script is based on a short story “The Drowning Flute” by Mikayel Amirbekyan, Arshak’s father, and was included in a collection “Unknown friends” published, shortly afterwards his sudden death in December 1983. Arshak explains this notable decision to start his filmmaking career with this material:

“As a matter of fact, the idea for ‘Three Evenings’ was in my mind for about twenty-five years and it started even before I had any distinct intention to become a moviemaker. My uncle asked me once, why I don’t read my father’s books. I tried to justify myself by a stupid joke: ‘I haven’t read many world classics yet; why should I give preferences based on family ties?’ However after my father’s death and subsequent publication of this book I felt I had to. It genuinely impressed me, and this particular story had a special impact on me. Actually every reading experience is a virtual, imaginative moviemaking experience for me, as well as for lots of people, I believe. The visions and the mood incited by this story were specially vivid and lasting; they got imprinted in my mind for many years. Sometimes I think that many of the decisions regarding looks, colors and moods of some scenes were actually made twenty five years ago. I was only 13 and was just beginning to understand that not only war movies can be interesting. This story was one of my first fascinations with simple human stories. Maybe it helped me later to better understand and appreciate Chekhov, Hemingway and Fellini.

And when in 2008 the time came to decide what I’m going to begin with, this story was the first thing that came to my mind. Nevertheless it stood modestly in the shadow, while we were searching and contemplating lots of stories of other authors and of our own. And when all of them were rejected for various reasons, it came out from the shadow again. So I started the script. And at that point I understood that I like this material more than ever because now I had some new motivations. I had my own life since 13, after all. And suddenly I saw how much of my own is screaming out to be told and shared. Words were pouring out; I was surprised by ease of writing. And here I discovered another appealing dimension of this story. It was giving me a challenge, a very special one: I was fascinated by its brilliant ‘exposition’ as critics would say. In some point that exposition made me feel like solving one of those ‘chess problems’ published in newspapers with instructions like ‘whites win in three moves’. You find that solution, but want something more; you try to find another of your own, to play out that exposition in your own way. So the story begun to change remarkably, adding new turns and dimensions.”



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