Loveless

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

"Loveless" (2017 release from Russia; 127 min.) brings the story of Boris and Zhenya and their 12 yr. old son Alexey. As the movie opens, school les out and Alexey takes the long way home, through a nearby park. At home, we quickly learn that Zhenya and Boris are going through a bitter and antagonizing divorce. They argue relentlessly, all the while thinking Alexey doesn't hear them But he hears them all too well... Boris and Zhenya are already in new relationships. Then one day, Alexey doesn't come home from school. Where could he be? Can Boris and Zehnya patch their personal differences in looking for their son? To tell you more of the plot would spoil your viewing experience, you'll just have to see for yourself how it all plays out.

Couple of comments: this is the latest movie from Russian writer-director Andrey Zvyagintsev, who previously brought us such excellent films like 2012's Oscar-nominated Leviathan, and 2011's Elena. In "Loveless", he goes a very different direction, examining modern day life in Moscow with its endless apartment buildings, and the correlating urban loneliness. The very bitter feelings between Boris and Zhenya are at times shocking, but feel very real. The two Russian actors playing the roles of Boris and Zhenya are unknown to me, but are nothing short of outstanding. I absolutely love how Zvyagintsev chooses a camera angle and setup, and then simply lets the scene unfold. Check the lunch scene between Boris and his co-worker, where they discuss their company's policy on divorce, all playing out over several minutes in a single take without any camera angle changes. The second half of the movie, focusing on the search for Alexey, is simply chilling and by the end of the movie I was emotionally spent. That is of course a dead giveaway that I was emotionally involved and invested in the movie, the sign of a top quality movie, "Loveless" was nominated at this year's Oscars for Best Foreign Language Movie, but did not win. I have now seen all 5 of the Oscar nominated movies in this category, and with all due respect to the Oscar winner "A Fantastic Woman", I have no doubt in my mind that "Loveless" is a better movie, and should've won. Alas, I am also quite certain that quite a few of the Oscar voters were turned off by the very bleak nature of "Loveless", in fact quite the opposite of "A Fantastic Woman". After the thinly-veiled criticism of the Russian authorities in "Leviathan", it came as no surprise that the Russian government refused any funding for "Loveless", so Zvyagintsev had to obtain funding from elsewhere (mostly Western Europe).

"Loveless" premiered at last year's Cannes festival to immediate critical acclaim. It finally opened at my local art-house theater here in Cincinnati this weekend, and I couldn't wait to see it. The Sunday early evening screening where I saw this at was attended dismally (4 people in total, including myself). That is a darn shame. Hopefully this movie will gain a wider audience as it gets distributed on various platforms. If you are in the mood for a devastating family drama movie that is nothing short of top-notch, I encourage you to check it out, be it in the theater (while you still can), on VOD, or eventually on DVD/Blu-ray.

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./

Nominated for Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film at the upcoming Oscars, Loveless is a tragedy film concerning a dysfunctional family that comes pierced with elements of mystery & political undercurrents. Encapsulated with a bleak tone & cold aura, it's a silent meditation on resentment, regret, loss & toxic relationships.

Set in Moscow, the story of Loveless follows a couple that's already broken up and is in final stages of a bitter divorce. Having already found new partners, their only unresolved matter is the custody of their 12-year old child whom neither of them want. But when the kid goes missing one day, the circumstances bring the parents together.

Co-written & directed by Andrey Zvyagintsev (best known for Leviathan), the film brims with a charged atmosphere whenever the parents are in the same room and its toll on their only son who already feels unloved is heartbreaking to watch. The parents' individual lives are firmly established before the main plot kicks in, which makes their scenes together later even more riveting.

Cinematography operates the camera in a silent but smooth fashion and employs exquisite use of its cold colour palette which, in addition to its wintry ambience, only amplifies its gloomy tone. Its 128 minutes runtime is glacially paced, giving the narrative a slow burn vibe. Performances from its leads are strong & vicious while the kid playing their son leaves a solid impression in his limited screen time.

On an overall scale, Loveless is finely directed, well written & brilliantly acted but it requires a bit of patience at first and cuts real deep by the time it's over. Silently brooding & intense, it's a stark depiction of modern life in Russia. Definitely not a film for all, its slow pace & lack of proper resolution may bother few while others will be mesmerised by its unnervingly quiet tone, arresting photography, subtle political shades & social dynamics.

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.