The ambiguity of revelation and maturity (The Return [2003] (DVD))

Name: harlequin21

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Product:	The Return [2003] (DVD)
Date:	16.06.07 (82 review reads)
Rating:

Advantages: Subtle, touching, ambiguous and powerful; stunning imagery and atmosphere; great performances

Disadvantages: An acquired taste; too slow and art house for some

Russia underwent a huge change -- that of the shift from communism to capitalism -- in an extremely small amount of time, barely over half a decade. People's lives changed drastically in the late eighties, and a capitalist government was put in power just four months after President Mikhail Gorbachev announced his resignation under extreme pressure from several parties. The USSR ceased to exist, but the taste of communism remained in the older generations, whilst the youth were brought up in a fashion far more influenced by the West. The Return highlights this divide between adults and children, cramming it all into one small film, but conveying the message with such subtlety and elegance that it leaves a lasting impact. Indeed, Russian film since the 1980s has very much come into its own, and the Return is a perfect example of this.

Andrei (Vladimir Garin) and Ivan (Ivan Dobronravov) are two brothers who have always been close, living with their mother (Natalia Vdovina) in a small town lost admist the vast expanses of Northern Russia. They have never known their father (Konstantin Lavronenko), acquainted with him only through a picture, but they have never really cared. Their mother, a distant and removed woman, has never said anything about him, and so they have gone about their lives. But one day the two boys find that their father has returned home after a twelve year absence. Enigmatic and stoic, he ostensibly has returned home to finally spend time with his sons, so they set off on an open-ended road trip in his car. Soon, however, the trip becomes something more of a test of masculinity, and the brothers, especially the younger Ivan, find themselves questioning the true nature of this stranger, a man of huge reserve and strict discipline. Director Andrei Zvyagintsev brings to the screen as simple story, one that moves along at a leisurely pace, but the film, like the facade of the father, has relentless depth hidden beneath its surface.

Ambiguity, mystery and enigma is one of the biggest hindrances in life, and it's an issue that Zvyagintsev allows to dominate the film. Everything is seen through the medium of the boys, the audience as naive as they are. Their mentality is such that they do not hide the past, and like society today they want to know the answer to everything. They ask a question and demand a concrete answer, but their father nor Zvyagintsev allow us the luxury of this. Much is revealed in the subtleties and the minimalistic expressions, and behind the eyes of the adults, particularly the boys' parents, is an enigmatic sad beauty. Unlike the boys, who are loud and energetic, the adults sustain silence, speaking only when they need to. This is emphasised in how the old communist mentality of the adults is one reserve and silent affection, whereas the modern capitalist mentality of the children is one of obvious emotion. Even though life is clearly not easy in their part of the world, one gets the impression that the boys are spoilt in how they have never really endured hardship other than their own insecurities. The Return is many ways as a result of this is a story of how the boys become men, inheriting the responsibilities of adulthood from their parents. But, again, these responsibilities are never explicit or spoken of; one just instinctively knows what they are from what we have learnt from childhood's mentors. Indeed, the whole issue of enigma and ambiguity is one that is easy to relate to, being very close to home, because as children the adults around us carry secrets, some that we are aware of, some that we are oblivious to. Only as we get older do we appreciate this, and soon the perfect, simplistic image we have of the adults when we are children becomes corrupted. Zvyagintsev deals with it in a completely realistic way, and the fact that he doesn't want to let up on the mystery makes the film so much more powerful and haunting, if not puzzling at times. But life is such, and that is the core issue in the Return.

To veil the ambiguity to an extent, Zvyagintsev commits to screen some of the most stunning cinematography there is; the flat, endless countryside of Northern Russia that is almost as fantastical and mysterious as the characters themselves. The forests are oceanic, as remote as space. The Arctic sea is unperturbed, as fragile as a butterfly, grey and glasslike. The nights are but mere continuations of the day, the sun never setting in the entrancing white nights of the summer. Even though the Return is realistic, there is a certain poetic, almost romantic quality to it, established by the almost surreal natural imagery and the enigma of the adults, but it is a romantic coldness, rather than a romantic warmth. The viewer, through the prism of the boys, can never get close to the characters. Everything is almost alien and hostile. Russia is such an unusual place that it appears all the more alien to any non-natives. It's one of the most fascinating and enigmatic places in the world, sprawled between West and East, but remaining unique, never allowing itself to become European, but never allowing itself to become Asian. This feeling courses throughout the Return, and indeed, it is a very Russian film. There is that vague East/West aura, whether it be in the Western colloquialisms of language that the boys have, or the beautiful Asian influence their faces have. The haunting ambient music is even influenced by this, with an Arabic sound to it. The beauty of the Return is impossible to deny, although to some the ambiguity could be seen as somewhat frustrating and possibly superficial, and the slow pace of the film is certainly not something one would appreciate if they're seeking answers. The Return on paper may sound like a thriller, but fundamentally it's an independent art house picture that isn't to all tastes.

Nonetheless, the performances keep the film alive, low-key but incredibly powerful. The two boys, Garin and Dobronravov, are excellent, building up a touching brotherly relationship, one that is inevitably constantly fluctuating between short-lived love and hate. Mysteriously, the older of the two boys, Vladimir Garin, tragically drowned in exactly the same sea that is featured in the film shortly before its release. All the same, he and Dobronravov bring a wonderful energy to the film that keeps it on an even keen, never letting it completely slip into any pretentious ambiguity. But Lavronenko, whilst not the anchor of the film, is electrifying as the boys' father. He plays the role with a consistent stoicism, a facade that never seems to even crack or show any emotion. He is the true intrigue at hand, his life all one big mystery, and there is a sense of sadism about him in how he pushes the boys into being men. His character is blurred, and one wonders whether there is any emotion or compassion in this stoic robot. Vdovina as the mother, similarly, is enigmatic and quietly sad, enchanting in her grace and elegance, but one can still feel some emotion in her in the evident love she feels for her sons. Even though the film's performances are relatively minimal, Zvyagintsev is highly dependent on them to truly get across the atmosphere and emotion. And he succeeds.

The Return is a subtle and powerful insight into the mystery of the generation above, something he brings even more vividly to life with the backdrop of post-Communist Russia. The film's purpose remains forever unclear, as does its genre -- is it a fable, a thriller, or just pure art house? -- but that's the beauty in it, that beauty drawing the viewer in from start to finish without the film ever getting boring. Like a David Lynch or Stanley Kubrick film, the Return is a film that speaks for itself, and often the viewer is left to think up their own interpretation to this highly original tale about progression into adulthood.

Summary: A minimalistic, beautiful and entrancing insight into the progression into adulthood