David O'ConnellMIFF 2011: Elena
August 8th 2011 23:52
Director Andrei Zvyagintsev made a remarkable debut in 2003. The Return was a vivid, compelling story of two young boys whose image of their absentee father is slowly absorbed by darker truths once he re-joins them to embark upon a road trip. Filled with stark imagery and ambiguities, The Return showcased a brilliant new Russian talent, and though his follow-up, The Banishment (2007), was met with only lukewarm appraisals, Zvyagintsev’s third film, Elena (2011), is welcome confirmation of that early promise.
Two Russian stories come together in Elena. The title character (Nadezhda Markina) is a middle aged woman living in a middle class district. Though unskilled and a homemaker, she’s married a man, Vladimir (Andrey Smirnov), of considerable wealth. Vladimir disapproves of the inordinate amount of time Elena spends travelling by train to see her basically useless son Sergey (Aleksey Rozin) in a faraway housing estate. Neither Sergey nor his wife are employed. Of their two children, their eldest son needs money to buy a college place or else risk be drafted into the army.
Elena pleads with her husband for financial assistance but Vladimir is a stern, arrogant man. He's reluctant to bail out a child whose father is incapable of accepting responsibility for his own family. Vladimir has family troubles of his with hedonistic daughter Katya (Yelena Zyadova) barely talking to him as she seeks to isolate herself from a man she has always seen as cold-hearted and materialistic.
Though initially an astute character study and appraisal of social divides, Zvyagintsev’s film, written by Oleg Negin, takes a fascinating turn at the midpoint when a health scare gives the couple a new perspective on what the future may hold. Elena faces a crossroads, a moral dividing ground which, if traversed, she’ll be unable to turn back from. The film’s pivotal scene is masterfully handled by Zvyagintsev and remarkably performed by Markina, who must trespass alone into dark terrain and stave off the consequences.
Elena is an intelligent, fascinating insight into the fickle fortunes of families as well as the motivations of a decent woman shaken from her stasis by the contemplation of death and its implications for all. Zvyagintsev makes a bold artistic choice in employing Philip Glass to score a handful of scenes, his ominous, circular themes pre-emptively shadowing a weight that will later press against the conscience of Elena.
In its final stages the film also becomes a profound statement on the self-defeatism of modern Russia, with those best placed to rise above their place in life unable to embrace the vast horizon. Instead, it’s only the warm, if tainted, embrace of blood ties they consider. Through the haze of contentment that falls on the final frames, the potential for greater despair to follow is meaningfully implied. With Elena, Zvyagintsev may well have produced his second masterpiece.
| 65 |
| Vote |
subscribe to this blog
