Beanpole

Kino Lorber | Release Date: January 29, 2020

6.6	USER SCORE Generally favorable reviews based on 58 Ratings

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ZhochorFeb 2, 2020

Балагов не крутой современный русский режиссёр, а надменный хуесос, который не может в нормальный кинематограф.

2 of 2 users found this helpful20

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Bertaut1Jan 29, 2020

Very bleak and somewhat compelling – a film I admired more than I liked

Written by Kantemir Balagov and Aleksandr Terekhov and directed by Balagov, Dylda is inspired by (although not based on) The Unwomanly Face of War by SvetlanaVery bleak and somewhat compelling – a film I admired more than I liked

Written by Kantemir Balagov and Aleksandr Terekhov and directed by Balagov, Dylda is inspired by (although not based on) The Unwomanly Face of War by Svetlana Alexievich, an oral history of the experiences of Russian women who fought during World War II. We've seen countless stories (many of them superb) about men who have fought in war, only to find themselves unable to reintegrate into society upon the cessation of combat, but Dylda is the story of two such women. And whilst one has to admire the emotional and ideological sincerity of the filmmakers, and the craft on display, for me, Dylda was a somewhat disappointing experience, adding up to something quite a bit less than the sum of its (often exceptional) individual parts.

Leningrad, 1945. Iya (an astonishing debut by Viktoriya Miroshnichenko) is a former soldier invalided out of active duty several years prior, who suffers from a severe case of concussion-induced PTSD that manifests itself as random episodes of total paralysis. A nurse in a hospital for wounded soldiers, she lives in a small one-room apartment with her son, Pashka (Timofey Glazkov). Meanwhile, Masha (Vasilisa Perelygina, in the film's second exceptional debut performance), who served with Iya, returns to Leningrad unexpectedly. Suffering from her own PTSD, which causes her to be cruel and selfish, Masha learns of a horrific accident recently experienced by Iya, and so begins to push her along a path that could destroy both.

Aesthetically, you'd be hard pushed to find fault with Dylda, with Sergey Ivanov's production design especially laudable. The hospital is grim and underfinanced, Iya's apartment is modest but homely, and the streets are cold and alienating, the aftereffects of the Siege of Leningrad still very much apparent. Despite everything looking completely authentic, the exteriors weren't shot on location, but were sets built for the film, making it all the more impressive. The tone is helped immeasurably by the film's palette, which is extremely drab, dominated by grey, dirty yellows, some white, and, especially, a sickly green, with virtually no blues, purples, or reds for much of the film.

Also in terms of the aesthetic, Balagov and cinematographer Kseniya Sereda often shoot in very long takes, affording the audience nowhere to hide. One notable example of this is a scene depicting one of the most harrowing deaths I've ever seen – a scene which goes on and on and on without a single edit, driving home the abject horror of what we're witnessing.

Thematically, the film is about broken people trying to put themselves back together, much as the city around them is trying to do the same. The fact that the Siege was lifted and the Germans defeated means relatively little in the day-to-day. The Leningrad of the film is a place where many of the norms of society have eroded, where any sense of Utilitarianism has become secondary to the mechanics of survival.

For all its laudable aesthetic elements and thematic complexity, however, I was disappointed with Dylda. I have no problem with bleak stories; in fact, generally speaking, I'm drawn more to bleakness and pessimism regarding the human condition, not just in cinema, but so too in fiction, theatre, poetry, and painting. However, I found the film too long, with it feeling padded in places, especially in the sense that Balagov tends to let scenes run a few beats longer than they need to. The aforementioned death scene is very long, but it works because of the length, affording the audience no respite. Other scenes, however, simply run long without much in the way of thematic justification. On occasion, Balagov can also be far too didactic, overstating emotions and literalising internal conflicts. At the same time, some of the most important plot points come across as contrived. Additional, the film is both front and end-loaded, with the best scenes and most interesting themes coming in the first and last acts. Unfortunately, much of what's in between is unfocused and flabby.

Dylda won Best Director and Best Film in the Un certain regard section at Cannes and it was Russia's entry for Best International Film for the 2020 Academy Awards, and is expected to make the final five nominees. So, I freely admit I'm swimming against the tide in saying I didn't really like it. I can certainly celebrate its craft, its thematic sophistication (that Balagov is only 28 seems almost impossible given the thematic maturity), its acting, and the way it isn't even remotely interested in conforming to prescriptions adopted by more mainstream films. And ultimately, although I didn't especially like Dylda, and was somewhat disappointed by it, I certainly admired the hell out of.… Expand

3 of 5 users found this helpful32

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Mauro_LanariJun 14, 2020

(Mauro Lanari)
Exhausting challenge to the most serious alienation for post-traumatic disorder between Soviet survivors of the 2nd WW, filmed with an annoying Brechtian estrangement effect that aspires to the formal rigor of a Paradjanov or(Mauro Lanari)
Exhausting challenge to the most serious alienation for post-traumatic disorder between Soviet survivors of the 2nd WW, filmed with an annoying Brechtian estrangement effect that aspires to the formal rigor of a Paradjanov or Sokurov as it stops around the hypnotism experiment of "Heart of Glass" (Herzog, 1976). The explanation comes after almost two hours and is told and not shown.… Expand

0 of 0 users found this helpful00

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