The Chekist creates its power through repetition. Three men set in an office, one reads names, and the other two pronounce the sentence (almost invariably execution by firing squad). Then, the condemned (always in fives) are taken from their underground cell. They are led through the bunker until they get to a large room with doors at the far end. They are ordered to strip and face the doors. Then, they are shot. Afterwards, the bodies are hauled from the bunker via a pulley system and placed in truckbeds. After the trucks are full, they are driven from the compound. The victims cross all age barriers, old men or young women, all are treated the same. These images repeat over and over again. Nearly half of the film are these scenes. Some will find it hard to watch. They are even harder to forget.
These executions are overseen (and seen) by Andrey Srubov, a bureaucratic official who shows little emotion as he carries out his job to make Russia better by eliminating those who could be a threat to the communist utopia. Srubov discharges his duties with emotionless efficiency. However, there are hints that even he is not immune to what he witnesses daily. His home life with his wife and mother is a cold, sterile atmosphere. People avoid Srubov because there are very few in this city that has not lost someone they love to his efficiency. As the film progresses, an occasional condemned man will be revealed as someone whom Srubov knows personally. These final meetings are horrifying. They, perhaps, even disturb Srubov.
The Chekist may not be a film for everyone but it is one that will produce a response. One cannot watch this film passively.
