Leviathan - the movie

This morning the torrential rain was not encouraging to leave a warm bed, but as always in Wellie,the skies eventually lifted and the clear blue appeared.

It was tIme to go car hunting, or actually, buying, with housemate Fir, and what a good choice she has made. It is an excellent quite newish Subaru, (with the accent on the middle vowel according to the Japanese), and it is a beauty in silver, with an all-wheel drive as all Subarus are. It is so nice I may look into finding one myself back in Oz. So Fir will soon be driving a car worthy of her stature and it will doubtless help make good changes in the rest of her life too, for after all in August she will be moving on to somewhere new.

Bedore that I did a quick drive to the airport as a reconnaissance for picking up the Hon M.K. on Saturday. It was quite a good idea, and I discovered it will be a piece of cake to collect him there after midnight on Saturday night. It is going to be a hectic weekend.

I decided it was time to catch the Russian classic movie called 'Leviathan', the name of one of their immense whales, whose shimmering white carcass featured in some of the spectacular fimography during this quite absorbing, if depressing, movie. However it does not disappoint and although over two hours long, it treats some major subjects in today's Putinesque Russia and pulls no punches. There is really great acting, especially with the young son, but has a story which doesn't leave you feeling too great however. 

This was yet another example of the seeming pessimistic nature of the Russian mentality, embodying a rather sad and totally corrupt country with everyone intent on consuming as much vodka as they possibly can. The main couple both have horrible fates in this realistically written modern story of what appears to be the norm in today's Russia. This 'norm' is a corrupt Mayor, corrupt police, and mostly complicit onlookers who can do nothing about this sorry state. There is one unsatisfying character, the lover, who is dispatched back to Moscow and who unwittingly, although with good intentions, did create the beginnings of this awful tragedy.

If the great Peter Greenaway had made this movie and called it 'The mechanic, the Mayor, the wife and lover', he might have made it more surreal and perhaps more satisfying, although I must say it did draw an accurate picture of everyday Russia in its true colours. It's certainly not a country in which I would ever like to live.

Autumn before the deluge with beautiful orange leaves outside my bathroom window.