Submitted By Ukraine: La Palisiada

1996 was a confusing transitional year for Ukraine. President Leonid Kuchma realigned Ukrainian foreign policy back towards Russia (but he has since turned against Putin after the 2022 Russian invasion). However, Ukraine had already agreed to abolish the death penalty, in order to conform to European standards. However, there is still time for one last execution. Nothing about the process will be pretty in director-screenwriter Philip Sotnychenko’s La Palisiada, Ukraine’s official Oscar submission for best international feature, which releases tomorrow on VOD.

There is an unsettling undercurrent of violence that occasionally erupts in La Palisiada, as when the long, confusing prologue culminates in apparently shocking murder. How this relates to Sotnychenko’s primary narrative (which, in itself, is rather ambiguously shaped) is not immediately clear (and it may never be). Eventually, a police detective and a forensic psychiatrist investigate the murder of their colleague. Perhaps not surprisingly, they focus in on a questionable suspect, whose mental and neurological capacities would surely be challenged in an American court.

La Palisiada is a challenging film to watch, in the worst sense of the expression. Sotnychenko’s deliberately obscure approach only grows more frustrating over time. Even the title will annoy viewers, because it is simply mentioned in passing as a “figure of speech,” the meaning of which is never explained. In this regard, Sotnychenko appears inspired by Cormeliu Porumboiu’s Pollice, Adjective (and other Romanian New Wave films), but Porumboiu’s intentions and references are always reasonably transparent.

It is especially frustrating that La Palisiada is so maddeningly inscrutable, because most cineastes of good conscience are eager to embrace Ukrainian culture. To be fair, there are a handful of brilliantly executed scenes, including the eventual execution itself, which in isolation, viscerally indicts the practice of capital punishment. Yet, as a cohesive feature, La Palisiada is far too unnecessarily obstruse and listlessly paced.

Still, viewers can easily see how the legacy of Soviet socialism exerts a depressing influence over the still relatively newly independent Ukraine of ‘96. There is no nostalgia in La Palisiada, but much of Sotnychenko’s takeaways, beyond his powerful critique of the death penalty, will largely be lost on international audiences. Reluctantly not recommended, La Palisiada releases tomorrow (11/15) on VOD.