It
was like the Court TV and legal reality shows of the 1930s, but none of it was
true. The Moscow Show Trials were a propaganda spectacle that had nothing to do
with justice (or truth). Prolific documentarian Sergei Loznitsa whittles eleven
days of archival footage recordings of the so-called “Industrial Party Trial”
down to a one hundred twenty-some minute found footage documentary in The Trial (trailer here), which screens
during this year’s First Look at MoMI.
In
late 1930, a group of engineers and economists dubbed “The Wreckers” were put
on trial for economic sabotage, scapegoating them for the Soviet Union’s dismal
economic performance. Aside from the names and employment history of the
accused, not one single truthful word was uttered during the proceeding. It was
all a fabrication—every word and every syllable. Yet, the accused duly confessed
to the charges leveled against them. Some had surely been worked over by the
OGPU (an earlier forerunner of the KGB), whereas others perhaps confessed due
to psychological pressure and a perverse sense of loyalty, like Rubashov in Arthur
Koestler’s Darkness at Noon.
Even
though The Trial only presents events
that were deliberately staged for public consumption, it vividly illustrates
how the Soviet legal system was designed to crush the spirit of the accused. Frankly,
we would have confessed to anything to stop the constant, soul-deadening repetition
of charges against the alleged “Industrial Party” members. Yet, that is
definitely part of the “Big Lie” strategy employed by the Soviets. It is also
rather disconcerting to the pre-approved spontaneous demonstrations against the
accused playing out on the streets outside
Rather
ominously, The Trial is only too relevant
in the modern day and age. Although the Russian Neo-Soviet regime has conducted
secret trials of abducted Ukrainian nationals, like filmmaker Oleg Sentsov, the
outcome is just as rigged as Moscow Show Trials. It was not pretty, yet in some
cases, the ultimate fate of several “Industrial Party Members” remains unknown.
The Trial can be difficult
to watch, for both aesthetic and humanistic reasons. However, Loznitsa’s meticulous
craftsmanship is quite impressive. Viewers who fight their way through to the
finish will glean a deeper understanding the machinery and propaganda of oppressive
regimes. Obviously, The Trial is an
acutely timely film, in a depressing second-verse-same-as-the-first kind of
way, but it is also fascinating to see the images of the early Soviet era echo
and reverberate over time. Recommended for hardy, free-thinking cineastes, The Trial screens this Saturday (1/12),
as part of First Look at MoMI.