A few days ago I asked you if I should review a film.  Would anyone actually read it, and would it be inconsiderate of me to not wait for my turn at the helm of the ET Film Blog?  I received no response whatsoever, which confirms that people read neither my diaries nor my comments.  The answers are therefore, "no" and "no."  So why waste my time with this?  

First, the blog Russian Film has blog-rolled ET for some obscure yet flattering reason.  Film reviews are rare in these parts, and reviews of Russian films are even more so.  But expectations have apparently been made, and nothing motivates me like unrealistic expectations.  Offer me a million dollars to write a film review every week, and I'd hesitate and suffer sleepless nights contemplating the ethics of accepting money.  Hint that you expect me to write a film review every week, and Bingo! you have yourself a film review every week.

Secondly, this is old news to many of you, but for those who don't read every comment on ET (the one asking if I should write this, for example...) let me tell you about myself.  Before I became an amateur political hack and under-appreciated blogger, I devoted myself to getting some degrees in Film and Russian.  A frequent conversation in my youth went something like this:

"Oh, wow.  That's a great school; you must be proud.  What are you studying?"
"Film and Russian."
"Oh...  What do you plan to do with that?"
"I don't know."
"You could write about Russian films, I guess..."
"I guess so."

I invested obscene amounts of passion and tuition into the subject.  I wanted to drop the film major and concentrate in Slavic studies (you're shocked certainly), but I had too many film credits to make that a sane idea to my "advisor."  BTW, anyone who "advises" someone to obtain a film degree should be locked up.  Years passed.  I got a job where my language skills were required.  I lost interest in Russian film, and film in general.  Mostly because I find film snobs to be the most annoying people alive, with Russia experts coming in a close second (except for this guy who is working on a "democracy as fetish" theory, which has to be the coolest thing ever...)  Frankly I don't know how I live with myself.

Then one day LEP suggests we begin an ET Film Blog, and I think to myself, "I could write about Russian films, I guess..."

Except here's the problem:  I haven't seen a Russian film made after 1980 that didn't involve Nikita Mikhalkov and his charming daughter and an Oscar.  Not that I don't like Nikita Mikhalkov.  Apparently he's a "Putin apologist" because he filmed a Putin election advertisement and a birthday tribute to the President.  (At least I'm in good company, huh?)  Anyway, I am patiently waiting for the (prequel) sequel to "Burnt by the Sun," which I did love very very much.  What was I talking about?  Oh, yes.  I haven't been paying attention to contemporary Russian film.  I don't know why.  I don't know why half the things that happen in Bush's America happen...  The world's gone mad.  But I seriously need to catch up on my kino-viewing.  They are making some amazing films these days.  Russia's cinema is like its literature.  No one does it better.  No one.  Anyone who disagrees with me gets a horse in their bed.

Oh, did you want a film review?  Then you should have said so.  

! Here's where the review starts.  

I hate the term, "review."  I don't think stars and thumbs are the correct tools for qualifying films, or any art, really.  I could analyze it, interpret it, but that's kind of your responsibility as the viewer, don't you think?  Uhm, criticism?  Everyone's a critic...  I'll just give you a synopsis and tell you YOU HAVE TO SEE THIS FILM.  Which is really the only point I wanted to make in this diary anyway.

The Return / Возвращение (2003)

Directed by Andrey Zvyagintsev
Starring Ivan Dobronravov, Vladimir Garin and Konstantin Lavronenko.

Trailer:

Plot:  
Two brothers, raised by their mother, come home one day to find their awol father has returned.  The father is a bully and involved in some sketchy business.  He takes the boys on a fishing trip to some remote, beautiful island, apparently to do some of his sketchy business.  The younger boy, Ivan, a sensitive fellow, has never known his father and clearly does not trust or like the guy.  The older boy, Andrei, is less afraid, more adventurous, and is more invested in the relationship, or maybe just the idea of a relationship with his father.  Suspense builds as mysterious plot elements are never explained and  the brothers are gradually removed farther and farther from home, their mother and the inhabited world.  I was expecting that either the father would have some epiphany and turn out to be a penitent person, or that the kids would end up hacked to bits, which is mostly what happens in "road trip with unpredictable sketchy fellow" movies.  It was wrong.  The ending, however, did knock the breath out of me.  

WTF is this movie really about, though?
The Siberian director remarked:

"I would say it's about the metaphysical incarnation of the soul's movement from the mother to the father."

Pretty sure I am not the only one who didn't get that, exactly.  

The film has won critical acclaim.  It contains biblical allegory, mythology, metaphor and parable ... and existentialism and mysticism ... and symbolism.  It is on the surface about fathers and sons, about coming of age, about families.  It is possibly a political commentary on the Russian motherland and Communism and authoritarianism.  It is probably about Christianity and resurrection and sins of the father.  But look, A LOT of movies are about these things!  The fact doesn't make them all worth seeing.  Plus, this is the same story the Greeks were telling back in the day, and certainly in even the earliest civilizations before them.  Whatever the moral of this story, it could not be more human or universal.  That said, it is not very clear what the moral of this story is.

So what differentiates "The Return?"  I subscribe to the theory that if you want to tell a good story, write a novel.  If you want to give the world something to look at, paint a picture.  If you want to act out human emotions, stage a play.  If you are going to make a film, it better have a good reason for not being a novel, picture or play.  I think a Russian invented that theory.  And this film is an homage to that tradition.  I'm not going to ask you to take a class so I can talk about Tarkovsky's idea of "sculpting in time" and Dovzhenko's idea of film as poetry.  Because you can just go rent this film and immediately understand what they're talking about.  

It's pretty...
Visually, this is one of the most beautiful films I have ever seen.  The cool palate of blues, lilacs, greens and greys.  The symmetry and simplicity of composition.  The evident symbolism.  The fluidity and rhythm.  Yeah, it's all eerie, haunting, worrisome, but it's a movie the eyes can rest upon, which gives it this entrancing, meditative aspect.  Kind of like watching a thunderstorm.  Some films, like "4," want you to subject yourself to psychological AND visual abuse.  That's a lot to ask of a person.  "The Return" makes a deal with you.  You get the little horror, but are soothed by the beauty.  Now that I think of it, the movie also does a good job of capturing that visual focus life comes into when you are experiencing what you know will become memories.  For a moment I thought I might be just pulling that out of my ass.  But memories and capturing them play an important (but not completely obvious until the end) role in this story.  So maybe I'm not. [Update: after having watched the DVD interview with the director, it seems I got it right!]

... and well-acted.  
I'm not usually one to be impressed by acting.  I find most acting bad, charming or over-stylized.  But the  youngest actor, Ivan Dobronravov, was so good, he was too good.  You'd think a kid that young should not be able to tap into the primal whatever he was tapping into.  I deeply sympathized (and identified) with his character.  Either he's been through some serious shit or he's a genius.   I was thinking that either he will grow up to be a legend or something will end tragically.  Then -My God!- I read that - as if the movie could be more heart-breaking, the actor who played the older brother, Vladimir Garin, drown in a nearby lake just after the film was made.  It's tragic.  But you'd have to see the movie to understand on how many levels that is upsetting.

So, then...
I'm not saying this is the best movie ever.  As a person with her own father issues, it struck a nerve.  As a person who wants to paint the whole universe in this particular color scheme, I'm aesthetically biased.  I don't know that I like or agree with all the possible interpretations.  I'm certain some will be put off by the relative lack of action and dialogue.  But I'm not sure how a person with a heart could not appreciate the emotional ordeal of these brothers, how a person with eyes could not appreciate the cinematography, or how a person with a brain could not appreciate how artfully the two complemented each other.

Check it out.