An unfairly underrated film. Unlike the absurd alienation of Kafka’s rural doctor, Ruben Azaryan is a man alienated from love, from his personal and human feelings; a fundamental disconnect gradually emerges between his professional expectations and the reality of his medical practice. This alienation is irreparably exacerbated when he admits: “What did you gain? I don’t know. Maybe I fell even more in love with people? For their suffering, for their courage“ (0:44:21). But the devastating metacognition of this extraordinarily underrated film is the crucial moment when he reflects on the death of the widow: ”One death for every hundred saved, for the forgotten. What do they care about those who were saved?”

I suppose he has in mind when nurse Svetlana is bathing, how could he imagine that with her they saved lives, did something valuable, and suddenly a bombing and carelessness destroys the young woman’s life? I use Kafka’s doctor to contrast him with the Armenian because I suspect that this individualism and communist sacrifice for society and the state project, etc., ends up depriving this doctor of vital experiences.

It is true that while Kafka’s doctor is trapped in the absurdity of a system that uses him without recognizing his humanity – “They always expect the doctor to do the impossible” – Yerzinkyan’s doctor seems to have found something valuable in the human experience of his patients.

The Kafkaesque doctor laments: “I am poorly paid, but I am generous to the poor,” revealing an existential bitterness. I deliberately contrasted him with the slightly arrogant Kafkaesque doctor because he feels—and perhaps rightly so—underappreciated and misunderstood, but the Armenian’s alienation is much worse and clearly carries over into his married life: “I never said kind words to you. Once I came home late, now I don’t want to. I love you. I love you very much. And I always felt good with you. Forgive me for this late confession.” With this new metacognition, Ruben acknowledges that his professional alienation also extended to his personal life, creating a double tragedy: that of a doctor who fought against the impotence of medicine and that of a man who was late in recognizing love.