Sputnik

Russia, 1983 – Colonel Semiradov (Fyodor Bondarchuk), the head of a secluded military facility recruits the maverick doctor Tatiana Klimova (Oksana Akinshina), to evaluate Konstantin Sergeyevich (Pyotr Fyodorov) the sole surviving cosmonaut of the spacecraft Orbit-4. In the process of her work, she learns that he may have brought back to Earth an alien parasite, and Semiradov’s motivations lie in weaponising it.

I’ll never forget the unsettling feeling I had watching the opening of Roland Emmerich’s Independence Day (1996), the memory of which still conjures up an eerie feeling. The triumph of mankind darkened by the shadow of an extraterrestrial force creeping over the lunar landing site. The music building to the big reveal of the alien vessel appearing overhead with Earth in the distance. It’s cinematic storytelling with an adrenaline rush. This one scene is symbolic of how humanity’s gaze to the stars has been one of wonder and fear – the achievement of our adventurous spirit juxtaposed with the fear of the unknown depths of space.

Out of this fear cinema has presented the unscrupulous nature of man as a source of terror, and the comparative nature of the ambitions of the socialist Soviet Union and a futuristic vision of capitalism. These are two opposing forms of political ideology, but Semiradov’s intentions to weaponise the parasite recalls the Weyland-Yutani Corporation of the Alien franchise, who have similar ambitions for the Alien.

In one scene, Semiradov says to Klimova, “Do you know why we need weapons? Weapons guarantee peace. A pack of dogs would tear each other to pieces. In order to live in peace, they need one leader.” His argument is an oversimplification – the world is divided up as a more than a pack of dogs, and the reason for weapons is peace through a propensity for mutual destruction. Our political world is built on this idea, and we still see tensions with countries such as Iran over nuclear development programmes, a deterrent to military threats from political and economic adversaries.

The political commentary aside, director Egor Abramenko’s feature debut is a journey from suspense to emotion, that creates a symbiotic relationship with Klimova. Introduced as a maverick who has saved the life of a boy, she deduces that Semiradov has recruited her because she’s willing to take risks. He sees someone akin to himself who prioritises results ahead of process. A single-mindedness imbues a character with a hardness, and Akinshina is captivating in the way she reveals the emotional depth of her character. Abramenko and his writers and writers Oleg Malovichko and Andrei Zolotarev position her to other characters in such a way that develops and mutually benefits them as a group, while also creating dramatic parallel arcs: Sergeyevich (Pyotr Fyodorov) the emotional, and Semiradov the ethical.

Sputnik is an assured first feature that does not try to reinvent the genre and break with cliche. Abramenko, Malovichko and Zolotarev trust in a familiar science-fiction horror told well, and here is its pleasure. However, Sputnik is the type of story that will inevitably live or die on the back of its creature. Abramenko’s direction empowers the alien, that while not as iconic as other creatures in the genre, is a ferocious and menacing addition to the genre.

Sputnik is streaming On Digital in the UK (Vertigo Releasing) and in select theatres, On Digital and Cable VoD in the U.S (IFC Films) from Friday, August 14th.

The Student

Late teenager Venya (Pyotr Skvortsov) needs something to believe in. Both the State and its lackey the Orthodox Church have failed him. He spends much of his time either thumbing through his dog-eared pocket Bible or reading aloud from it to those around him. His lone parent mum (Yuliya Aug) initially thinks it’s a joke but comes to realise that her son’s rebellion is grounded in something she doesn’t really know or understand.

Most of his classmates are more interested in sex and larking about. Venya skips swimming lessons where he objects to the girls’ immodest bikinis. Later in an empty classroom he pushes away Lidia (Aleksandra Revenko) when she removes her top and throws herself at him. He spends time with bullied and disabled fellow student Grigoriy (Aleksandr Gorchilin) whose leg he promises to heal.

For the most part his school’s principal, teachers and even its Orthodox priest (who he dismisses as compromised and Mercedes-driving) can’t handle Venya. Only his biology teacher Elena Lvovka (Victoria Isakova) makes any real attempt, eventually reading the Bible for herself to see what it says. This put her on a collision course with the teenager. In her sex education lesson employing carrots and condoms the boy strips naked to protest against immorality. He later imagines her having a fatal scooter accident after disabling her brakes.

On one level, this is a frightening study of Christian fundamentalism – what makes its adherents tick, how they manipulate others and how they can be resisted, sometimes at terrible cost. While the title and its variants clearly refer to Venya, they could also apply to his acolyte Grigoriy and his nemesis Lvovka.

The Bible can be used to justify just about anything, particularly if parts are taken in isolation or their original context is ignored. Director Kirill Serebrennikov goes out of his way to cite chapter and verse via onscreen graphic visual subtitles so that you know (and on a home video platform could freeze frame and check should you so wish) that the frequent biblical quotes used here are genuine. If they weren’t, the film would be a lot less powerful, particularly to anyone religious. Perhaps the most unsettling part of all this are the dark schemes to which Venya’s beliefs drive him, a long way from the ideals which Christianity’s founder taught. Equally disquieting is Lvovka’s getting hung up on the literal biblical text when it seemingly contradicts her modern scientific world-view, rendering her powerless to combat him.

On another level altogether, the film examines misplaced ideals propelling people to power. Many of Venya’s more violent actions or intentions indicate an ascendant extremism and a desire for power over others. Hauled before the principal, he stands with a portrait of Putin behind him on the wall which suggests some similarity with the Russian president. Given the rise of various right-wing leaders internationally since the film was made, its pertinence may prove far wider than its intended Russian audience. See it.

The Student is adapted from the play ‘Martyr’ by German playwright Marius von Mayenburg. That title and the subtitled print’s title ‘The Disciple’ combine with the UK release movie title The Student to convey something of the film’s subject matter.

The Student is out in the UK on Friday, March 3rd. Watch the film trailer below: