An Intense Exploration of Austerity in Stalin’s Russia

This chilling film by Sergei Roznica captures the oppressive atmosphere of Stalin’s Russia in the late 1930s, drawing from the experiences of opposition author and scientist George Demidov, who endured 14 years in a gulag during World War II.

The film unfolds gradually from a stationary camera, evoking the haunting presence of the Soviet state, where unease simmers beneath the surface. It delves into the sinister bureaucracy that sustains itself by instilling guilt in those who dare to oppose it. The scenes may remind viewers of Dostoevsky’s “The House of the Dead,” with odd figures laughing and singing in a train carriage, echoing Kafka’s sense of entrapment.

Loznitsa’s narrative portrays a political prisoner linked to Stalin’s harsh measures against Ukrainian nationalist Symon Petliura. The film encapsulates a sense of claustrophobia and disorientation, depicting Demidov’s work alongside scientist Lev Landau, contributing to a broader commentary on authoritarianism.

The central figure, Kornyev, is played by the idealistic young lawyer Aleksandr Kuznetsov, who, despite his youth, manages to charm the older bureaucrats he encounters.

He receives an unusual “letter” from Stepniak, an ailing prisoner in Briansk, expressing the grave absence of justice within the NKVD, which uses the judicial system to persecute and eliminate aging party veterans. This transformation has cultivated a group of unflinching Stalinists.

The prison authorities, embodying the typical bureaucratic inertia of the Soviet Union, hesitate to meet Kornyev before he visits Stepniak, hoping he will be discouraged and abandon his efforts. Roznica uses this depiction to illustrate the sluggishness faced by those seeking justice.

There’s mention that the prisoner’s health might delay the visit—a transparent but clever excuse that connects to the notion of contagion around Stepniak’s condition.

Kornyev, uneasy about Stepniak’s plight and aware of his legal expertise, doubts that concerns would reach the highest authorities during a train journey to Moscow. He endures hours of waiting, absorbing Stepniak’s distressing revelations with a polite, quivering demeanor.

Strange undercurrents of conspiracy surface, as Kornyev encounters what appears to be a collection of unrelated individuals whose fates intertwine, echoing themes similar to those in “Rosemary’s Baby.” On his journey, he finds himself burdened with the wooden legs of the prisoner, hinting at an unsettling parallel in their experiences.

Upon arriving at the government offices, Kornyev meets a young law student asking irrelevant questions about his investigation, though he struggles to recall any interaction. Most alarming, he encounters a paralytic figure against the wall, whispering questions filled with fear—an embodiment of the pervasive dread surrounding them. Perhaps Kornyev, too, should maintain a low profile to navigate this bureaucratic maze.

The film serves as a haunting parable, shedding light on the insidious mechanisms of tyranny.