It
is a matter of inspiration rather than adaptation. Dostoevsky’s short story
sparked something for the Moscow-trained, Ukrainian filmmaker, but it is way
more upbeat than Sergei Loznitsa’s resulting film. In terms of literary
comparisons, think of it as Candide
rewritten by Kafka in present day Russia. However, this much abused woman is
keenly aware she is absolutely not living in the best of all possible worlds.
She lives in Russia, a corrupt and soulless country, where nobody passes up an
opportunity to victimize others. Of course, it starts with the venal officials and
rolls downhill in Loznitsa’s A Gentle
Creature, which screens as the “Film Comment
Presents” selection of the 55th New York Film Festival.
We
never really learn how and why the meek office worker’s husband was sentenced
to prison for murder, but it is probably safe to assume he was unjustly
convicted. One day, her care package is returned to her, because it was refused
by the prison. Concerned about her husband’s status, she makes the arduous
journey to the unnamed provincial village, but all her bureaucratic inquiries
are rebuffed out of hand.
Apparently,
exploiting visitors in “the Gentle Creature’s” position is a cottage industry
in this town, which looks unchanged since the Stalinist era. Unfortunately,
everyone immediately recognizes she is particularly easy pickings. A grotesque boarding
house proprietor quickly gets her claws into the confused wife, but it is her
criminal associates who represent the real danger. They claim they can
facilitate a visit with her husband, but we suspect their ultimate designs
involve something like human trafficking.
Creature is absolutely,
positively guaranteed to garner a divisive reception from New Yorkers. Older
viewers will be put off by its deliberately slow, agonizingly naturalistic
first two hours, as well as a sudden turn towards the surreal in the third act.
On the other hand, Social Justice Warriors will be confused by Loznitsa’s
not-so-veiled criticism of Russia’s Communist past and possibly outraged by a
scene of sexual violence that is admittedly tough to watch (but it is supposed
to be horrifying, that’s the whole point). However, for those who understand
the film’s historical and cultural context, it is a bracing indictment of
contemporary Russia, both socially and politically. There are also moments of
bitterly dry humor, which is so very Russian.
Granted,
the Gentle Creature is such a perfectly passive victim, she often induces
groans and face-palms. However, it is important to remember Creature is essentially an allegory, so
we should expect a level of characterization proportional to Pilgrim’s Progress or Everyman. Still, the “Human Rights
Activist” is a rather fascinating exception. When we initially meet her, she is
overworked and physically intimidated to her breaking point. Yet, her later
appearance suggests she fetishizes her martyrdom.
As
the Human Rights Activist (nobody needs bourgeoisie names in a film like this),
Liya Akhedzhakova covers quite a gamut, but she leaves us chastened and
disillusioned in both her bravura scenes. In contrast, the wafer-thin and sunken-eyed
Vasilina Makovtseva is profoundly haunting and disturbing as the Gentle
Creature. It also should be stipulated, the ensemble is fully stocked with
utterly convincing thugs, bullies, grifters, and freaks.
Pointedly,
Human Rights Office is located on Dzerzhinsky Street and the bust of Lenin
oversees all the humiliation from its place of honor in the shabby village
square. For obviously reasons, Creature was
filmed in Daugavpils, an ethnic Russian village in Latvia, “blessed” with a
vintage Soviet prison—but to dispute its authenticity or current relevancy
would be disingenuous denial at its most risible.
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