Loveless

Loveless is a depressingly profound experience.

It paints the world as it is, not shying away from showing the bitter emptiness, disconnect and sorrow (which we usually choose to ignore) that surrounds our society. The desperate search for happiness, the unbelievable selfishness, lack of compassion and love, as the title suggests, that seperates generations of people in our modern times of self-absorbed("anti")social media. The film manages to achive these incredible feats (without being preachy) in its fantastically written and acted multi-layered and complex characters, whom as the story goes on beautifully unravel from just simple despicable people to characters that you understand and by the end sort of empathize with and pity (though not all of them: the character of the father is kind of an exception, he's a bit underdeveloped). Though our main characters represent what is wrong with our society, Loveless manages to keep a hopeful balance showing the good side as well with its selfless side-characters, the search party.

Andrey Zvyagintsev's direction is immaculate, from the beautiful cinematography, with its lingering shots of the dreary Russian winterlands and cityscapes filling you with a sense of melancholy and loneliness, to the authentic writing and the tragic story itself.

Loveless is a tough watch that challenges the warped values of the 21st century, holding a mirror towards our modern society, still unable to escape the same endless cycle it's always been trapped in. A dour but realistic meditation on humanity's need for love.

/as schmaltzy or cheesy as this review sounds I assure you the film is the furthest thing from being those things./

My wife and I frequently find ourselves wondering why so many people we know decided to even have children in the first place, so little priority do they give them in their lives. They act like children are a roadblock to all of these exciting things they would otherwise be doing, instead of recognizing them as exciting things in their own right and probably more likely to enrich their lives in ways that matter than any of the other endeavors these people seem so fixated on. But they don't recognize this, and as a result the kids suffer for it.

"Loveless" is a bleak and scathing indictment of this kind of modern-day parenting, a world of selfish adults pursuing their petty little enjoyments while ignoring the children they voluntarily brought into the world. It's a tough film to watch, though not as tough as I thought it would be. The little boy at the center of the story isn't in the film very long before he goes missing, so we're spared scenes of the misery he feels at home with a super bitch of a mom and a checked out dad. The couple of scenes we get are enough. Then, the film turns into a "L'Aventurra" like odyssey as the parents and authorities go looking for him. What makes the film tough to watch more than anything are the horrid characters that populate it. These people may have once been happy, and maybe have the potential to be happy again, but if so we see no signs of it. These are wretched souls who take their misery out on each other, and walking out of the movie theater after this film was over was like walking into the fresh air after being trapped in a dank crawl space. The film is claustrophobic in its nihilism.

But, and this is a big "but," despite the above paragraph that makes this film sound like a chore to sit through, it's actually a wonderful movie and fascinating in a morbid kind of way. It's bleak to be sure, but people who are exhilarated by good film making can leave even a bleak movie on a high if it's done well, and this is one of those films.

Nominated for a 2017 Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film from Russia.

Grade: A

Severe and un-melodramatic portrayal of a couple who's at each other's throats and are desperately finalizing their divorce, where both are reluctant in looking out for the best interest of their 12-year-old kid, whom they consider more of a hindrance to their own separate paths to happiness.

It's the feeling of awfulness and marvel in seeing the beauty and the nastiness of humanity that occur in such a cold, stark environment which leaves a lasting impression to the viewer. With shot compositions that never for once looks contrived, effortless in photographing the quotidian scenery, it overwhelms, suffocates and unnerves the viewer by reminding that the onset of the winter season also reflects the bitterness the kid will have to face with the disintegration of his only known family.

The film focuses on Maryana Spivak (Zhenya) and Aleksey Rozin (Boris), who both did a stupendous job in capturing the varying degrees of steely disposition that overflows on such narcissists, way too consumed of the image that they would project to the people that surround them yet lacks the basic empathy to their own flesh and bone, Alyosha (Matvey Novikov in a heart-wrenching performance). But such uncaring demeanor as parents contrasts with that of the upright response shown by a few of their friends and complete strangers in manifesting the spirit of volunteerism. Decent performances from the supporting actors, apart from Natalya Potapova playing Zhenya's mother who almost steals the film with just a single scene in displaying such dreadfulness that rivals that of the irreconcilable couple, each and every one of them gives subdued and understated performances that's much like the way the strategically used minimalist musical score penetrates the background, and the way those inconspicuous brooding scenes transitions to yet another inconspicuous brooding scene.

Zvyagintsev's decision to end the film in an ambiguous note, just utter perfection, not wanting to petrify or shatter the viewer's feelings after witnessing a tragic story. It's the speculation of what the ending signifies that leaves a much more menacing outcome, and it should, (At least, that's how it worked for me), for people to have a more determined resolve in withstanding hardships that life has to offer because, the thing is, the end will never be nigh.

--A-plus--

Whether or not it is designed as an allegory of modern Russia, no film in recent memory has examined the growing emptiness of human relationships with such expressive force as Andrei Zvyagintsev's ("Leviathan") Loveless, a heart wrenching drama about a couple on the brink of divorce whose emotional neglect of their son leads to devastating consequences. Though the film has been characterized as "bleak," the feeling tone is more like sadness and regret that many today have lost the capacity for compassion and empathy. Accompanied by Evgeny Galperin's rich cascading piano score, the film opens as cinematographer Mikhail Krichman surrounds us with the quiet beauty of a Russian winter.

Almost immediately, we are staring at an cold-looking stone building that could easily be a prison in Siberia. There is no sound or movement. Suddenly a door opens and children, released from school, swarm through its exits. Though some are laughing, it is not a happy scene. 12-year-old Aloysha (Matvey Novikov) makes his way home through a barren forest but there are no warm greetings awaiting him. The marriage between his mother, beauty-salon owner Zhenya (Maryana Spivak) and his father Boris (Alexey Rozin, "Leviathan"), a desk-ridden management functionary, is over. Seeking status, money, and freedom, both are immersed in new relationships. Boris is with the pregnant Masha (Marina Vasilyeva, "Name Me") and Zhenya with the well-to-do business executive Anton (Andris Keishs, "What Nobody Can See").

Though their apartment has been advertised for sale and their divorce is in its final stages, custody of Alyosha has not yet been agreed upon. It is clear that he is an unwanted child, the result of an unexpected pregnancy and a marriage of convenience. Like emotionless machines, the warring couple continue their repetitive spiral of mutual recrimination as Alyosha crouches behind the bathroom door. Fearful and alone he absorbs every last ounce of malice, his face becoming contorted into a mass of silent tears that well up from deep within his being. It is a shocking scene that mirrors every despair the world has ever known.

Since the film takes place in the year 2012, talk radio focuses on the Mayan calendar and its apocalyptic date in December. News reports tell us about the bloody war in the Ukraine. Amidst the barely-controlled paranoia in the air, Boris tells a co-worker that he is afraid to lose his job if his boss, a fundamentalist Christian, finds out about his impending divorce. Fear of losing his job becomes secondary, however, when Zhenya tells him that Alyosha has not shown up for school for two days and is now missing. Far from coming together to patch up their differences, however, the estranged couple only double-down on their mutual acrimony.

The inefficient police offer little expectation that they can find the boy and try to reassure the parents that, in most cases, a missing child is with a friend or relative or out on an adventure and will soon return home. Not satisfied with officialdom's inertia, they turn to a volunteer group who put up posters, talk to teachers and neighbors. An interview with Alyosha's only friend points them to an abandoned apartment in the middle of a forest. In a scene of eerie darkness where there is a palpable feeling of hopelessness and loss, the rescuers, wearing bright orange jackets, comb every space in the decrepit building but Alyosha is not found.

A boy matching Alyosha's description is found at a nearby hospital but it is not him, and a subsequent visit to the morgue only offers more tears. Taking a risk, the two visit Alyosha's mother but the visit only succeeds in bringing hatred up to a level of ecstasy. With no explanation in sight, Zvyagintsev teases us with the sight of an unknown man walking alone into the forest, a man hidden from the camera in a fancy restaurant asking a call girl for her phone number which she provides while looking directly into the camera, a man pausing at a bus stop to read the flier about the missing boy, then turning and walking away, and a teacher cleaning her blackboard after students have left.

These tantalizing scenes, however, do not bring us any closer to a solution to the mystery of Alyosha's disappearance. Loveless is a deeply disturbing film that explores the dark places of human behavior, upending our most cherished beliefs about the bond between parents and children. Making it clear about what can happen when an unwanted child is brought into the world, Anton tells Zhenya that no one can survive a life without love. If Loveless serves as any kind of warning, it may be to help us discover that the world cannot survive either unless we begin to re-envision it as sacred.

Tells a tragic story with a beautiful and cold cinematography. Features powerful performances (specially with the roles of the mother, the father and the grandmother) although it suffers from a slow pace throught its long runtime. There were two scenes which I found particulary remarkable, those being: the one in the morgue and the argument with the grandmother. I felt some lack of character development and I wish I could have seen more of the kid, since we pretty much just followed the parents' point of view. Overall, the film managed to keep me interested and plugged even with a slow rythm, the acting and the direction of photography were its main strenghts. 7.7