The pantheistic beliefs and the telluric power depicts on screen recall Dovzhenko’s masterpiece Zemlya (Earth). Everything here is poetry: the beauty of nature's cycles and its seasons, the power of fire and water. The people of this island nourish a deep love of nature and incredibly strength of spirit in the way it addresses the value of memory and the inevitability of guilt and remorse.
An underseen and underacknowledged masterwork. Klimov's moving and powerful tribute to his late wife Shepitko seems very Tarkovsky-esque, all fog, metaphysical beauty and symbolic house burning (despite The Sacrifice's 1986 release date). Last half hour is one great sequence after another, helped by Artemiev's score and a knowledge of what the final shot means thanks to Klimov's Larisa (1980). A paean to a lost time.
A masterpiece of the Soviet village school and an apt premonition of the nightmares that will unfold in 'Come and See'. The uprooting of a community carries the obvious synecdoche for Russia's surrender to the myopic and misty demons of modernization with Klimov charting the gradual penetration of the sacred soil and memories of the villagers by technology and media. A.Rodionov conjures imagery from another planet.
As a huge fan of Come and See and Elem Klimov there's no way that I could not enjoy this film, seeing as it almost felt like a preparation in style and form for it. While not nearly as impactful and gut-wrenching it certainly left a mark, especially knowing the background behind it and how Klimov's wife Larisa Sheptiko died during the pre-production for it.
when curelty penetrated into society once at that moment there is no need for modern tyrants.even evolving into modernity seems like performing by persecutors, that is not true. there is nothing in this world called to be bad . there are people who are striving to be bad,turning into be bad. these willing ones inside us,they are not hiding somewhere else.they are ready for igniting torch , destroying their humanity.
Interesting and equal parts moving and infuriating story of a russian villiage about to be submerged and erased from the map. A humanistic story framed by a serene almost religious motive or at least a naturalistic one. Runs out of steam towards the end but saved by the final moments contrast between fog, acceptance, denial and return to nature.
as Shepitko's sign off, and as Klimov's elegy this is masterful. the film stands as a perfect companion piece to 'come and see' in the motifs and religious subtext of both works. the piece suggests that modernising has left humanity lost, in a directionless and uncertain world, but that in the end the spirit of humanity will lead it back to the origins of the tree of life. one of the most poetic endings in cinema.
A truly astonishing work of loss. Manages to make both the past and the future seem alien. Their collision is all the more strange. This is a film of people made into ghosts because of a goodbye forced onto them that no one knew existed let alone expected, which is how I imagine Klimov felt when he lost his wife and finished her last movie. If there's a sadder story than that, I don't think I want to hear it.