Taxi Blues

"Taxi Blues" is a raw and gritty film that really captures the struggles of everyday life in a big city in 90's Russia. The story revolves around a gritty conservative taxi driver and a struggling musician with more "modern" values, showcasing their unlikely friendship amidst personal hardships. The gritty cinematography and the realistic dialogue hit home, making you feel the weight of their challenges. The performances are honest and powerful, especially the chemistry between the two leads. It's not just a story about unlikely friendships. It dives deep into themes of hope, dreams, and the realities of that era in Russian history.

It's a very good character-driven narrative that blends humor with melancholy and very deep characters. It felt very Dostoevsky-esque, despite being set in a completely different time period.

Besides this, I have only seen one movie by Pavel Lungin, namely Luna-park, which also comes off highly recommended. Taxi Blues is an excellent work all in itself. Lungin very well transcends the chaotic atmosphere in Russia during the late Perestroika period, and prior to the break-up of the Soviet Union itself. The tumultous relationship between two main characters represents bipolar parts of the Russian society, and shows degradation of the social fabric. Piotr Mamonov (who is also the leader of the well-known Moscow rock-band Zvuki Moo) turns in an impressive performance as Lyosha - a westernized, alcoholic Jewish mucisian. The rest of the characters are equally picturesqe, be it the strong willed, conservative, nationalistic taxi driver, or his neighbor, an old man of the Stalinist generation. The film's unsettling pacing and incessant moodswings further contribute to the overall picture. An excellent film from one of Russia's leading directors.

After I watched Taksi-Blyuz I`m again convinced that Russian cinematography is spectacular, always has been and always will be. I would recommend listening to music by Charlie Parker ("Bird") as an alternate soundtrack to this film.

Me again. Rasto is a man of few words. However, he likes the movie, and his word is good. I haven't seen it yet, but probably will. Rasto has spoken!

*Please note: This review discusses many key events of the film, including the end. Do not read if you have not seen the movie!!!

Taxi Blues is a film about control. It isn't, however, as simple as it initially seems. At the film's conclusion, the audience is left to ask, "Who's really controlling whom?"

At the beginning of this film, Chlykov has complete control of his life. He manages his cab, and his side job of selling alcohol, with an iron fist and the facial expression to match. He is the master of his domain and no one in his or her right mind would dare to question his authority in any way.

The problem is that Lyosha is not in his right mind. His life is careening out of control and he has one priority. Alcohol. From the minute that he requests his first bottle from Chlykov, their lives become irrevocably entangled. In the beginning, it is very clear where the power lies. As the film continues, however, it becomes harder and harder to tell who is controlling whom. Although he does not seem to realize it, Chlykov's life begins to revolve around the very man he seeks to reform. As a result, aspects of his own life start to slip from his control.

For example, when Lyosha begins to seduce his girlfriend, Chlykov, in a desperate attempt to prove his authority, smashes Lyosha's saxophone and then engages Christina in an aggressive sexual act against her will. For those few minutes, Chlykov is free of his self-induced commitment to Lyosha. However, his freedom is short-lived. A few minutes later the phone rings and he is soon back at the jail to meet Lyosha, once again putting his own life on hold.

By the end of the film, the roles have reversed. Lyosha gets his life together, at least temporarily, and is on top of the world as a beloved, world-renowned musician. Chlykov's life, however, is reminiscent of Lyosha's at the beginning of the film. He severs connections with his girlfriend, his friends and his once structured existence. It is no coincidence that in the last scenes of the film, Chlykov is in a speeding car, spinning wildly out of control.

The past collides with the present in this unflinching portrait of life behind the late Iron Curtain, showing the often antagonistic relationship between a half-mad, free-spirited saxophone player and his older, old-fashioned alter ego, a hack who has seen too many changes through the window of his Moscow cab. Alexei's exuberant, non-conformist energy is the catalyst for the drama but this is clearly Ivan's film, and the story matches his often irrational mood changes while staying remarkably true to its characters, presenting both archetypes in three not altogether appealing dimensions (Ivan is a traditional anti-Semite; Alexei is an irresponsible deadbeat). The film conveys with almost naked candor the seamier side of the new Moscow subculture, adding a somewhat veiled accusation of moral corruption and decadence in the social reforms of Perestroika. The imagery is often arresting, but if the film is critical of Western influence it isn't entirely immune to them, and it's disconcerting to see the story end in a routine car chase slapped together from what look like outtakes from a William Friedkin movie.