* * * 1/2
I was about eight or nine when
my parents divorced. Don’t worry, I’m not crying for sympathy: it is way in the
past and I’m not angry or bitter about the situation or anybody involved.
Sometimes life just happens like that, and I can accept that, but I can’t deny
that it was one of the absolute toughest things I’ve ever went through in my
life. Perhaps this is why Loveless
was such an arresting film for me. Even if I hadn’t though, I believe it would
have had the same impact. I wish I could make some sort of joke or jovial quip
about just how appropriate the title is, but I just can’t bring myself to:
Andrey Zvyagintsev’s Oscar-nominated film is an unbearably cold and ultimately
devastating trial through the dissolution of marriage (one that probably
shouldn’t have happened in the first place).
Alexey’s (Matvey Novikov) parents
– mother Zhenya (Maryana Spivak) and father Boris (Aleksey Rozin) – are going
through a nasty divorce. Cramped inside a microscopic apartment, he can hear
every argument, which is a shamefully regular occurrence (Alexey must cry
himself to sleep every night). To Zhenya and Boris, as much as they hate each
other’s guts, it is what it is, and they move about their daily lives. The film
goes on and on, depicting the daily lives of Zhenya and Boris. One day, Boris is
at work when Zehnya unexpectedly gives him a call. Alexey has gone missing.
They contact the police, but
are referred to a local organization that searches for missing children (the
police would take too much time with all the bureaucracy involved). A search
party is gathered, and off they go to find the missing child in a procedural
drama. Zhenya and Boris participate in the search, but even with the welfare of
their own child on the line, they can’t put their contempt aside.
This is one of the most shameful
and despicable couple of people I’ve seen in a movie. First, there’s Zhenya,
who not only vocalizes her contempt to her husband, but also to her own child
right in his face. She’s always glued to her iPhone, always somewhat detached
from the harsh reality that is the real world. Boris is the opposite; always
involved with bleak current events, from political turmoil to superstitious
paranoia (the film takes place in late 2012, if you remember all the Mayan
calendar scares). At least Boris is less despicable than Zhenya: at one point,
the two are separated. Boris assists the search party while Zhenya calls up her
rich boyfriend and stays the night in his cushy loft, but this is never enough
to make up for his behavior.
One of the keys to the film’s
grip factor is Mikhail Krichman’s cinematography, who has clearly taken many a
lesson from Andrei Tarkovsky and Michelangelo Antonioni – regarding the latter,
Loveless had countless parallels to
Antonioni’s seminal L’avventura. Loveless is a brutally cold movie. From
everything you’ve already read, you could probably imagine how chilly it is on
a thematic level, but the film itself is freezing. It is set during the
wintertime, but not with pearly-white snow to brighten things up. This is one
of those gray winters, and the cinematography is masterful in capturing such a
specific kind of winter.
A theme I sense in Loveless is history’s inevitable
tendency to repeat itself. Right from the beginning, just by looking at Alexey’s
face, we can sense how long this struggle has gone on. The theme goes further,
though. Take Boris and Zhenya’s new partners, for instance. Everything we learn
about these characters and seeing the climate of their current relationships,
we can see that there is no hope for their futures: the same thing is bound to
happen (which we can witness happening in the film’s coda). Back to Krichman;
his shot composition only emphasizes this with these long telephoto shots that
make the environments seem endless.
Loveless is a terrific film, but it doesn’t go without something to
be desired, mainly with its unbalanced concern for its characters. I won’t be
surprised if Zvyagintsev is accused of some sort of contempt for women. I don’t
believe this is the case, but Zhenya is such an awful character, and Loveless never lets you forget what a
bitch she is. There is a moment where she tells her boyfriend about her past –
this clearly says something about who she is, and should have given me some
sympathy for the character, which it did…but only for a brief moment. It’s
especially frustrating when we turn to Boris. Granted, not exactly an
upstanding fellow either, but the film clearly has a bit more concern and
sympathy for him (until the end, that is), and I find the lack of balanced
portrayal a bit unfair. More balance would have made an already compelling film
even more so, and definitely would have gained the film a 4-star rating from me.
But, this is not the case, and such is life, I suppose.
I read a lot about how Loveless is saying something (or trying
to) about the current sociological environment of contemporary Russia. I can’t
comment on this, as I’m not a scholar on the subject of Russia. That said, I
don’t believe I need to know what’s going on over there. Loveless knows that truly great drama must be concerned with its
human inhabitants before the big picture issues – after all, it’s the people
that make up the big picture. Loveless,
as heavy and emotionally draining as it is, is a riveting and arresting trip to
the movies. It may not be pleasant, but I guarantee you’ll never forget it. I
am sometimes cynical about the overly-prevalent “think about the children”
sentiment (best, albeit excessively, ranted against by George Carlin), but when
it comes to something like divorce, I can’t think of anybody who should take
more priority than the children.
No comments:
Post a Comment