Reseñas de la crítica

The outward trappings of Beanpole suggest that these emotional crises somehow pertain to postwar nation-building, motherhood, or the marginalization of women under a supposedly egalitarian communism. But Balagov leaves all of these threads dangling, instead resolving the film purely within the private realm.

The story is compounded by Balagov's imposing visual aesthetic, which was evident in Closeness but here is on a whole new level.

Exquisitely grueling yet fiercely humane, Kantemir Balagov’s Beanpole, an astounding Russian period drama, cements the artistically mature director as a prodigy of international cinema moving towards an auspicious career.

In a couple of quick years, Balagov has become one of the great young hopes of international cinema — a director who can tell complex, resonant stories and who has the stylistic dexterity of a master.

Beanpole is effective, regardless, and at times genuinely moving, if frequently beguiling. It often works—even it believes a little too much in the power of its design and intentions to fully live up to them.

As difficult as Beanpole can be to watch, it quietly accumulates kindnesses alongside the crueler twists of fate, and hopes that warmth is more sustaining.

Balagov’s visual design (contrasting vivid green and red against dark or desiccated backgrounds) conceptualizes dystopia, same as many other dispirited social critiques: Think Joker made with style.

A masterpiece of stylistic eloquence and emotional acuity, “Beanpole” builds on the strengths of its predecessor [“Closeness”] with astonishing confidence.

This is only the second feature from the sensationally talented Russian director Kantemir Balagov (who was born in 1991), and it’s a gut punch. It’s also a brilliantly told, deeply moving story about love.

There are many devastating scenes in Beanpole, a film that conveys the thorny struggles of humanity that come in the wake of war: testing the boundaries of loyalty, frantic searches for redemption, and the anguishing work of doing what is right, even if it is painful.

A war film in the deepest sense since it depicts the devastation wrought by conflict, without a single battle scene.

Balagov has an amazing rapport with his two nearly novice actors, Viktoria Miroshnichenko and Vasilisa Perelygina, and the beauty of his mise en scène does not diminish our comprehension of the traumas that, surely, will permanently scar his characters.