Le visiteur du musée

Made in 1989, a few years after Dead Man's Letter, this film contains some similarities: a post-apocalyptic world where civilisation has collapsed, in this case because of ecological catastrophe. The ecological catastrophe is the result of man's careless treatment and overexploitation of nature. All that remains is a barren landscape (not a tree to be seen), pollution and lots of rubbish.

Like the earlier film, it is shot with a very limited colour gamma, mostly dark reds and blacks. I found it easier to see the point of Dead Man's Letters. The Museum Visitor has several very powerful scenes, but it is harder to se it as a coherent whole.

The film's hero is a "tourist" who travels to see a museum that can only be reached when the seas part. He is one of the few human left who still keep the old attitude and way of thinking. More numerous are some kind of mutants or idiots (most indeed played by people with real disabilities) who live in reservations in some kind of permanent religious exaltation. Normal, intelligent humans are sceptical atheists, and keep the idiots away, inter alia by lighting fires on their windowsills. However, even the normal world has been turned upside down, and thus for example the new fashion dictates that men wear high heels and tights. An old man at an inn asks the tourist to close his eyes and open the scriptures at random and point at a paragraph. But nobody is able any longer to understand the meaning of the scriptures. The world is too far gone, too close to the end to be able to appeal to any gods.

While trying to reach the museum, the "tourist" undergoes a profound deep transformation and ends up on his own via crucis.

I would hesitate before recommending this very tough, depressing film, except to those who have enjoyed other films by the same director.

In Letters from a Dead Man director Konstantin Lopushanksy tinted much of the background yellow. In A Vistor to a Museum, the director applies a red tint to much of the film. The end result is often hypnotic. A traveler arrives at a hellish outpost in the Russian landscape. This wasteland is where the rest of the country sends its garbage. Mountains of trash are piled high. The surrounding ocean is dead, the result of chemical waste. Somewhere in the horizon mutants, called "degenerates," reside on a reservation. The local tavern lights fires at night (more red) to keep the degenerates away. The traveler has come to visit a flooded museum. For one week a year, the tide departs and one can walk the ocean floor. The visitor plans to travel the three days to the museum and the three days back during this period of no tide. The locals think he is crazy, but the visitor must make this journey. He is searching for a mound inside the museum that is rumored to be a portal to another world.

Andrei Tarkovsy fans may note the similarity to Stalker. Like in that film, the protagonist lives a depressing existence and only has his faith in a rumor, a legend, to keep him going. A Visitor to a Museum is good but not as good as Stalker (incidentally, one of my favorite films). Konstantin Lopushansky worked on the crew of Stalker and he is trying to direct this film as Tarkovsky might have. The difference is that Lopushansky is a gifted, intellectually minded stylist while Tarkovsky was a true poet of the cinema, one of the medium's great voices.

To his credit, Lopushanksy conjures up some amazing images. My personal favorite is the degenerates carrying the visitor to the water's edge. I also loved the landscape shots which, like Stalker, convey a world off-kilter. The last shot is also very memorable. The director is less successful with telling his story. That last shot, visually stunning though it is, leaves the viewer unsure of what to take away from the film. The entire final half-hour (the journey across the ocean floor) is ambiguous. Something life changing happens to the visitor toward the end of the film, but I was not exactly sure what it was. What did the ending mean? Got me!

Despite its ambiguity, A Visitor to a Museum grabbed me. I felt like this was one of the most rewarding science fiction films I had seen in some time, a film that created a distinct and unique world. My mind is still replaying some of this images from the film two weeks after viewing. I shake my head thinking of all the films that are forgotten as soon as their end credits roll.

I've seen it once on a festival, at the time it came out, and I was impressed. Would love to see it again, but it doesen't seem to be published in the western Europe.

I don't remember much of it nowdays, but the main idea was that there is a forgotten underwater museum somewhere in the sea!

So the main characters go in search for it. There are a lot of horrific scenes with a great number of real mentally retarded people, and it takes some bravery to watch it, but, at the end the film can be compared to the ones of Tarkovsky.

This movie has some amazing shots. The ending scene of the movie is breathtaking, I can't see how he planned for that - but I know he must have. The same goes for the rest of the movie, what a production! Big crowds of people in one scene, big heaps of junk in the next. The room with the stormy waters outside in one scene, and barren landscape outside later on. I can only imagine the amount of work put into making this movie look like it does.

So that's one thing. I'm having difficulties thinking of other things I liked with the movie. Some of the sequences drag on for way too long without really adding anything to the movie (as far as I can tell). I must admit that I'm not entirely sure what Lopushanskiy is trying to do or say in this movie. I guess it can be seen in light of communism and parts of the communists regimes. The elites being anti religion, and the people treated badly. But the religious aspect of it also brings my mind to Judaism. God's chosen people treated like animals. Maybe I'm being too specific, and he is trying to say something about man in general. But is it a message of hope? Or hopelessness? The movie was not able to hold my interest in the plot, and so I also lose interest in whatever message it is trying to convey.

That said, it's worth watching for the visuals alone, and I'm sure other's will find more in the plot than I did. Maybe it helps knowing more about the context in which the movie was made?

This film, directed by the illustrious Aleksandr Lopushanski, is an enigmatic work that blends reality and abstraction in a hauntingly poetic manner. Set in the liveless coastal wasteland, the story of this film explores the nature of humanism, religion and consiousness.

Lopushanski masterfully constructs a meditative atmosphere that is as much about the artworks on display as it is about the internal struggle of the protagonist. The mysterious museum itself becomes a metaphor for finding some kind of meaning in a hopeless world.

The cinematography is strikingly evocative, utilizing shadows and light to create a sense of both wonder and foreboding. The stillness of the frames draws us into a realm where time seems suspended, allowing us to share in the protagonist's contemplations and existential musings. The minimalist score enhances this feeling of introspection, each note resonating with the weight of the narrative's themes.

The acting is understated yet powerful, with the protagonist embodying a blend of curiosity and melancholy.

The film is a poignant reminder of the role hope plays in shaping our identities and our understanding of the world. The film lingers long after the credits roll, leaving one with an introspective ache and a newfound appreciation for the occasional beauty of our cruel world.