La ville zéro

Gorod Zero = Zerograd = City Zero opens with engineer Alexei Varakin (from the Moscow Engineering Works) arriving by train at a small provincial town. It is the dawn of a rainy, depressing day; the station is deserted and no other passenger alights. The only other things that move are a dog that sniffs Varakin's suitcase and the only taxi in town looking for a fare.

After checking in a seedy hotel Varakin waits until morning and walks to his destination, a factory that supplies air conditioners to his company. At the checkpoint nobody knows about his visit and there is no pass to enter the factory. After a strained telephone conversation he reaches the offices and introduces himself to the manager, who has no idea of the reason for Varakin's visit. Puzzled, the manager calls the chief engineer and is informed that he died months ago, plainly without the manager noticing,

Obviously the initial scenes evoke Kafka, K. Arriving at (the vicinity of) The Castle and there are other whiffs of Kafka such as The Process in the second half but this movie is something else. In the rest of the film Varakin is the protagonist of a series of happenings, each absurd in itself (such as a secretary working stark naked) but having a certain crazy internal logic and connecting to each other with the twisted logic of dreams. In one, episode he happens upon a museum absurdly placed in an inaccessible spot in the countryside and built in an abandoned mine shaft. He is the only visitor and is given a tour by the museum curator. Varakin is informed that the origins of the town connect with errant Trojans and with a subsequent occupation by Roman legions. Another treasury of the museum: Attila's bed, where he raped some queen or other. There are dioramas everywhere illustrating distorted history, and the wax figures seem to be live people; some of the dioramas are accompanied by gaudy music and kitschy light shows. Varakin is frustrated at every episode; he is prevented from returning to his family in Moscow and ii accused of transgressions of which he knows nothing.

Some of the Soviet reality of the time is imbedded in the dream; the absurd logic of a decaying and malfunctioning political system, the inert and unmovable bureaucracy, the repression of popular trends and music (rock-and-roll). The overall effect is that of a stress dream built out of a distorted reality where the dreamer is thrust in situations he doesn't understand or knows how to get out of.

By all means watch this movie. It has not reached the commercial streaming services but you can find a pristine copy with subtitles in You Tube, courtesy of distributor Mosfilm.

This late Soviet movie by Mosfilm, directed by great Russian filmmaker Karen Shakhnazarov, is an absurdist dark absurdist comedy with hilarious bizarre moments. By making a satire of the last years of the Soviet Union, it seems a mashup of Monty Python, The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie, and The Truman Show. I laughed loud! It is greater than the other movie by director Karen Shakhnazarov I had already watched, We're from Jazz, from five years before, which also has comedy, dancing scenes (something recurrent in his filmography), and a discussion about the spreding of Western music and culture.

"If Shakhnazarov isn't a supernal filmmaker of visual finesse and most members of its male-dominant cast is far too grim and starchy by simply performing in rote, whereas their opposite sex is dismally reduced to peripheral ciphers, namely, a nude secretary, a glamorous woman functions merely as a chauffeur, or a voiceless matron whose sincere request of a dance is interrupted by the male intrusion, ZEROGRAD still remains a marvel to watch, not merely validated by Shakhnazarov's sensible political concerns and his homegrown compassion, but also, more impressively, by the astonishing tableaux vivants which crop up in the midstream and near the coda (offering ironic, anachronistic remarks to further muddy the waters), credited to its production designer Lyudmila Kusakova. It takes some time for viewers to discern that those museum exhibitions are actually actors in heterogeneous costumes and under maquillage, betrayed by tiny movements that are almost imperceptible, what billows out is that strange aroma of "magical surrealism" that is ever so fertile in the Eastern European cinema edifice."

read my full review on my blog: cinema omnivore, thanks

I only saw one scene from this film, in the 'entertainment' section of a TV news magazine from India. the clip they showed was from a scene in a restaurant, and was the most bizarre thing I had ever seen, though with a strong sense of black humor, not gross or repulsive. here's the scene in brief (for those who want to read about it):

a guy dining by himself in a corner of the restaurant, is approached by the staff with dessert (covered by a lid). the guy tells them he didn't order any dessert, but the staff persist him to partake of it, saying that the cook made it specially for him and that if he doesn't eat it, the cook will be heartbroken. the guy glances over to the kitchen door, and sees the cook ready to slice his own throat with a knife. alarmed, he agrees to taste the dessert. the staff take off the lid, and the guy gasps as he sees his own head on the platter! the staff tells him to relax, as it is just a cake made to look like his head. they carve a slice off the top of the 'head' and serve it to the bewildered and scared guy.

I have been looking for this film since 1988, & hope it gets a DVD release soon. and based on just that one scene, I would recommend this film strongly to anyone who likes David Lynch, The Coen Bros, Franz Kafka, etc...or anyone who wants to see something different for a change (that is, after you are done with your Matrix, Charlie's Angels, etc. of course).

An unknown little treasure of the Soviet cinema, based on the story of a man sent to a town where nothing seems real. Definitely a feast for lovers of true cinema, while slow at times, is an intriguing, minimalistic piece of work. In fact this slowness, added to the lack of music and dialog at parts, becomes a plus for the film in a strange way. The whole movie has a dreamlike, Eraserhead-ish atmosphere, so slyly given that you often feel like you're watching someone's dream on the screen.

I can't help but agree that, as one other reviewer has mentioned, there are quite a number of references to the Soviet way of life of the period, but naturally they may be hard to catch for everyone. Still, this does not detach the audience.

Certainly not for fans of hollywood crap, but movie fans who want to see something unique should see Zero City.