Sem Amor

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--

Moscow, 2012: Zhenya (Maryana Spivak) and Boris (Aleksey Rozin) are a miserably married couple preparing for a divorce as they try to sell their apartment. Each has a new lover as they prepare for their new lives but both are negligent of their tormented twelve-year old son, Alyosha (Matvey Novikov) - thus causing a major twist in the story.

Director/co-writer Andrey Zvyagintsev created a sensation with the very powerful "Leviathan" released in 2014. The earlier film was very critical of the authorities in Russian society (which irked actual Russian authorities) while "Loveless" is critical of the degradation of Russian individuals and society in general. Some characters are more attached to their smartphones than to the people around them. Boris is attached to the endless news cycle. (In one such scene, it is fascinating to hear the biased Russian media's take on the troubles in Ukraine a few years back).

Boris's worst characteristic is his extreme indifference to others while Zhenya is a verbally abusive monster. It is easy to despise her for the way she treats her husband and son but her story is brought to the forefront when the viewer witnesses her with her equally monstrous mother (Natalya Potapova). At this point the viewer sees Zhenya as someone at both ends of the tragic "unwanted child" syndrome - a trait that is sadly hereditary.

Among Zvyagintsev's gifts is the way he handles sex scenes. Rather than the quasi-pornography that is rampant in modern films, the sex scenes in this film are actually erotic and intimate. And despite the film's title, they do represent rare moments when people are loving toward each other.

He is also adept at maintaining a bleak mood throughout the film - one that reflects most of the characters and the society around them. There is an extended scene that involves an abandoned building. One can't help but observe that the building looks functional and even pleasant in some rooms. Like some of the human characters, it was unnecessarily neglected and left to rot.

The epilogue of "Loveless" takes place a few years after the main story. Without giving anything away, its conclusion is sad yet not altogether surprising considering the scenes that preceded it. It's the right conclusion for a very good film with very powerful performances. And its subtle jab against the degradation of people via modern technology is not just a Russian problem; it's truly universal. - dbamateurcritic

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.

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

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.