AFI’s EU Showcase ’15: The Fencer

Upper body strength means little in fencing. It is all about the legs. Lunging and retreating are key to the sport, or as Endel Nelis puts it: “controlling the distance between you and your opponent.” Those instincts have also served him well as a fugitive from Stalin’s secret police. He has come to Haapsalu, Estonia, because the provincial town is the perfect place to lay low. However, his fencing classes attract dangerous attention in Klaus Härö’s biographical drama, The Fencer (trailer here), Finland’s official foreign language Oscar submission, which screens as part of the AFI’s 2015 EU Film Showcase.

The school principal is the sort of petty apparatchik who resents any form of talent or accomplishment. Naturally, he takes an instinctive dislike to Nelis, the new physical education teacher from sophisticated St. Petersburg (or Leningrad as a Party hack might call it). Nelis has no intention of rocking the boat or standing out in any way. He is working under an assumed name, hoping to avoid capture and exile to Siberia. Against his will, Nelis was pressed into service by the German Army. He managed to avoid combat by deserting into the forest, but he has still been declared an enemy of the people.

Naturally, Nelis is required to voluntarily manage an athletic club, but the principal refuses to allot him any resources. However, when he starts giving fencing lessons with mere switches cut from trees, many students are intrigued. Of course, the principal thinks little of this “feudal” sport, but parental support temporarily ties his hands. While Principal Skinneruu plots against him, Nelis prepares to take a small team to compete in an all-Soviet open invitational.

Based on a real historical figure, The Fencer ought to be catnip for Oscar voters. Like Mr. Holland’s Opus with fencing foils, crossed with The Lives of Others, Härö and screenwriter Anna Heinämaa tell the true story of an initially cold and standoffish teacher, who comes to care about his students as they deal with some pretty extreme challenges, like the arrest and exile of family members. It is not a dramatic conversion, but a subtle evolution of character that Märt Avandi plays with great strength and nuance. He also develops terrific chemistry with Joonas Koff and Liisa Koppel as his two star pupils, both of whom have “missing” fathers.

There are a number of scenes that could have been embarrassingly cheesy and saccharine, but at each potential pitfall, Härö reins in the film, going for a quietly stoic Baltic moment instead. As a result, he truly earns the comparatively sentimental closing. It is also impressive how much attention was given to proper fencing technique. They really are doing it right.

Throughout the film, Härö vividly captures a sense of the late Stalinist era paranoia, as well as the drabness of Soviet life in general. It is also engaging on a human level. These are reserved people, but when they make a connection, it is meaningful. Very highly recommended, especially for Academy members, The Fencer screens this Thursday (12/10) as part of the AFI’s EU Film Showcase.

Margaret Mead ’15: Land of Songs

For the better part of the Twentieth Century, the Soviet Union gave the Baltic States the Blues. Lithuanians responded by singing their traditional folks songs—and engaging in armed resistance. Sibling filmmakers Aldona and Julian Watts journeyed to their grandmother’s Lithuanian homeland, to record the Dainava region’s folksongs for posterity in Land of Songs (trailer here), which screens during the 2015 Margaret Mead Film Festival at the American Museum of Natural History.

The Dainava ladies might be getting on in years, but they are no shrinking violets. Yet, they join together in song remarkably harmoniously. As in Estonia, Lithuanian folk songs played a major role in the revolution against Communism, but unlike the massive Laulupidu song festival in Tallinn (as seen in The Singing Revolution), which remains a hugely significant national cultural event, the folk singing tradition appears to be falling out of favor with younger Lithuanians.

There are some eerily evocative performance by the distinguished ladies of the Ethnographic Ensemble of Puvočiai that seem to harken back to some mystical time before time. However, they cannot match triumphant emotional crescendo of the massive Laulipidu performances. Still, the film really starts to come together when they link the Dainava folk songs with the Forest Brothers resistance movement. It is pretty significant to watch and listen to the Partisan veteran code-named “Tiger” singing some of their patriotic anthems in the bunker that was once his home. The Watts (director Aldona & cinematographer-co-producer Julian) also incorporate some wonderfully striking archival photos of their subjects that really give viewers a sense of the dramatic sweep of their lives.

Land of Songs is a lovely film that captures the idyllic beauty of the Dainava region (a.k.a. “The Land of Songs”) and the sly humor of its residents. It offers some solid history and accessible ethnomusicology. Frankly, Land really deserves to be picked up for a national audience on PBS stations (and with its sixty minute running time, the film could easily accommodate their broadcast schedules), but for now, look for it on the festival circuit. Highly recommended, Land of Songs screens this Friday afternoon (10/23) with the short doc The Ladies, as part of the AMNH’s Margaret Mead Film Festival.

Ounpuu’s The Temptation of St. Tony

Though captive nations under the Soviet empire, the Baltic states are almost more Scandinavian than Slavic. Indeed, the chilly and austere landscape faced by a troubled Estonian middle-manager deliberately brings to mind the surreal masterworks of Ingmar Bergman. Needless to say, Veiko Õunpuu’s The Temptation of St. Tony (trailer here) is in nowhere near the same class as Bergman’s films, but at least it deserves credit for trying when it opens this Friday in New York.

Tony is having a rough go of it lately. His father died, his wife is cheating on him, his boss forces him to lay-off his entire factory workforce, and he must sit through one of the most pretentious productions of Uncle Vanya ever staged. Yet things only become more disorienting as he enters a bizarre netherworld filled with eccentric characters and lurking menace. Though he might be having difficulty differentiating reality from illusion, it does not necessarily mean the world is not an evil place, out to get him personally.

Unlike Õunpuu’s dingy looking first feature Autumn Ball, Temptation is visually stylish, filmed in striking black-and-white by cinematographer Mart Taniel. Stills of his work here are often suitable for framing. Indeed, the bleakness of the human soul never looked so beautiful. Though this might sound superficial, it carries Temptation a long way. In truth, the film’s stark imagery directly contributes to the success of many scenes, as when Tony’s visit to a church takes a creepy Hour of the Wolf turn.

There are moments of shock and power in Temptation, but it is definitely an intellectual rather than emotional affair. It is a hard film to embrace, not that it wants you too. As Tony, Taavi Eelmaa projects a fair amount of fear and confusion, but for the most part, the actors are essentially props for Õunpuu to toy with. However, Evald Aavik is likely to stay with viewers thanks to his small but memorable turn as the preacher.

Like Bergman’s Wolf, Temptation is a surreal film that flirts with horror movie conventions. In fact, sensitive viewers should be warned to expect a number of grotesque and truly disturbing images. (One really has to wonder what Odetta would have thought of the film’s use of her rendition of “Motherless Child.”)

Intentionally obscure, Temptation does not yield up meaning easily. It exists elusively at the crossroads of absurdity and nihilism. An undeniably artful film, had Temptation been made fifty years ago, people would still be telling us how brilliant it is. However, in the post-modern era, it feels almost nostalgic. Still, once you have seen Temptation, you know you saw a film, emotionally stunted though it might be. It opens this Friday (9/17) in New York at the Cinema Village.

Must-See Documentary: The Soviet Story

Prior to Sunday night’s Lincoln Center screening of Katyń, Andrzej Wajda gave the audience a probably much-needed history lesson, explaining the Soviet-German alliance during the early years of WWII. When he concluded, Wajda received a well-deserved standing ovation. However, for his in-depth survey of Soviet crimes against humanity, including Soviet cooperation with the Third Reich, Latvian director Edvins Snore was burned in effigy by Neo-Soviet Russians. It is an ominous badge of honor. The film that you are not supposed to see is titled The Soviet Story (trailer here), and it opens in New York this Friday.

From its inception, the story of the Soviet Union was writ in blood. As former Soviet dissident (now essentially a dissident again under the Putin regime) Vladimir Bukovsky explains: “When Communists come to power, it does not matter where, let it be in Russia, in Poland, in Cuba, in Nicaragua, in China, initially they destroy about ten percent of the population” in order to “restructure the fabric of society.”

Soviet Story acts as an effective corrective to the popular notion that the Communist experiment only turned horrific when Stalin ascended to power. The film documents orders mandating mass executions, estimated in the tens of millions, originating with the father of the revolution, Lenin. Still, it is devilishly difficult to outdo Stalin’s sheer capacity for terror. For instance, the deliberate use of famine to pacify Ukraine is explained here in chilling detail. In a crime against humanity largely ignored by the West, seven million Ukrainians were intentionally starved in the cordoned Republic, as foodstuffs were confiscated at gunpoint by the Red Army.

The heart of Soviet Story explores the close ideological similarities and barbaric collusion between the Soviet Socialists of Stalin and the National Socialists of Hitler. There is an eerie sequence juxtaposing thematically similar propaganda posters from both regimes, side-by-side on-screen. Even more damning are the documents Snore uncovers establishing close links between the SS and the Soviet NKVD (the precursor to the KGD), discussing among other issues, the “Jewish Question.” They did not just talk. They carved up Poland between themselves, and at Stalin’s prompting, staked their claims to the rest of Europe.

Soviet Story is most devastating when discussing the ways in which the more advanced Soviet killing machine served as the inspiration and model for the Holocaust. According former Soviet intelligence officer Viktor Suvorov: “A delegation of German Gestapo and SS came to the Soviet Union to learn how to build concentration camps.”

Snore has produced a chilling indictment of the Soviet experience with Socialism. He calls some very convincing witnesses, including Bukovsky, and the eloquent Cambridge historians Norman Davies and George Watson. As evidence, he produces some shocking archival film and documents. However, as the film makes clear, none of those who did (and still do) the Soviet dirty work has ever faced justice for their crimes. All told, Snore has produced a passionate but thoroughly reasoned case against the bloodiest regime of the twentieth century. His only misstep is the periodic use of animated titles, which feel like the commercial bumpers in a History Channel special.

While this is a period of history I consider myself well versed in, Communist oppression was so ruthless and pervasive, Soviet Story was able to catalogue many fresh horrors I was not previously aware of. Probably the scariest aspect of the film is its timeliness, releasing as the Putin regime increasingly embraces its Stalinist roots. Everybody who wishes to continue thinking themselves well-informed should see this film. Since Soviet Story should be seen by a wide audience, I highly recommend seeing it opening weekend, when a strong showing could help it secure further distribution. Soviet Story opens in New York this Friday at the Village East Cinema.