Leviathan

Leviathan takes a long, immersive look at the machinations of corrupted power in the lives of the powerless, who desperately struggle to stay the course, hoping against hope to win a losing battle.

A man and his family face off against a politically backed fat cat who wishes to buy the piece of land upon which stands their house, willing to destroy their family nest to raise a modern building in its stead. The grandiose, solemn music of Philip Glass (Akhnaten; Act I Prelude) opens and ends the movie, flanking it like a sturdy front and back cover a fine book from a Russian master's pen. Other than that, the movie is rather stark, musically and otherwise. It is remarkable how effective silent scenes can be. With little music and less sound effects, the film has your undivided attention, reaching emotional heights towards the end. The lack of a musical backdrop further enhances the gritty realism that imbues all the 140 minutes. Relationships between the characters evolve and change significantly over the span of the movie, and though the patterns are somewhat familiar, interpersonal developments are portrayed with commendable subtlety and brilliance. There is a lot of intelligence to the storytelling; much can be understood without words. We embark on a chilling journey into the land and home of ordinary, simple folks, who are kicking and screaming for justice under the suffocating oppression of ruthless power, also blighted by their own frailty.

Leviathan is an outstanding work of art that manages to drive home universally relevant points with sparkling clarity in its refreshingly honest way. A highly recommended piece.

From the very beginning up to very end you can feel the tension and the emotions up to a pure exaggeration! This is not at all something negative! The photography is absolutely enchanting and offers to the viewer that beautiful heartbeat that in a such a film is essential. Amazing, unforgettable landscapes!

You cannot resist in taking sides when you see and understand the heroes battling with their demons and their enemies, that seem to be surrounding everything that makes their lives...

Andrey Zvyagintsev after the wonders of drama, passion and mystic lyricism (Vozvrashchenie and Izgnanie) offers yet another one similar of his creations, adding though, a "spicy" allow me to say subject, a taboo, about corruption in modern day Russia and how all those things which are considered as high values to the Russian State and people, seem to be part in this injustice, destroying peoples' lives.

cold, cruel, minimalistic. the force of image and the silence. the atmosphere from The Return, the characters from Elena. and the fight against almighty corrupt system. the lost of each pillar of existence and the desire to demonstrate your truth. inspired cast and strange landscapes. and, sure, a lot of controversies. in fact, the film is only tool for remind the heart of reality. a manifesto without enthusiasm. a verdict. it is beautiful and deep bitter. because it reflects the forms of falling world. the solitude as last solution. the pressure of system. the fight for survive. a film who reminds basic things. and a great director as inspired guide in the heart of reality. one of Rusian movies who could remind many masterpieces. but it is not Tarkovsky, it is not Abuladze, it remains a Zvyagintsev. his confession. about a reality and about new Job.

The Priest: "All power comes from God. As long as it suits Him, fear not." The Mayor: "And so, it suits Him?"

God may not be immediately apparent in the god-forsaken Russian coastal town of the rewarding film Leviathan, but the devil surely resides there. Or let's just say the proletariat suffers for Politburo politics rather than God to an extent that is disruptive of daily life and lethal in the wrong circumstances. If you cross Crime and Punishment with a dollop of Dr. Zhivago, you might get a hint of how bleak and fateful this rugged world is, relieved by the beautiful timelessness of the landscape.

Kolya (Aleksay Serebryakov) is a vodka-swilling, perpetually smoking, car-fixing local doomed by the fates and his own temper. Not only does the corrupt local mayor, Vadim (Roman Madyanov), seem destined to seize Kolya's property for a patronage resort, but Kolya" wife, Lilya (Elena Lyadova), is also carrying on with his close friend and attorney, Dimi (Vladimir Vdovichenkov), and no good to come of either ill-fortunes.

I was captured the whole time by the sense of impending doom especially when director Andrey Serebryakov is featuring only decrepit buildings and sea wrecks. Given the Russian cinema tradition, those images are sure bets to represent the decay of a society that drinks and broods the whole long day. Not that it's a bad thing; it's just that doom creeps along at a petty pace as it circles victims like Kolya and Lilya, who are decent people but moved by passionate forces that emerge from the rocks and roiling sea. The devil is menacing, powerful, and relentless as it stalks its prey, notwithstanding the priest's counsel that God is the one calling the shots.

Leviathan, like the titular skeleton of a whale that serves as a figurative touchstone, is long, slow, and dark, confirming a stereotype of hardscrabble Russians trying to survive under the portraits of Putin and Gorbachov, the old and new struggling for the heart of the country. Think of Appalachia joined with Montgomery; now there's a whale of a comparison, and this is a behemoth of a film.

"Leviathan" is a David and Goliath story set in a desolate Russian fishing-town.

We've seen it before- a man desperately tries to keep his property being taken away from rich greedy fat cats.

But this is also a strong family drama, a tale of friendship, betrayal, corruption, hope, hopelessness...

Impressive acting overall, the very slow paced narrative and almost no music besides two fitting Philip Glass pieces make this a movie to remember.

The cinematography also deserves a mention, there are countless wonderfully framed scenes.

Excellent slow burning drama.