Sezon tumanov

A thoughtful continental-style film about a Russian woman (and aspiring writer) who has come to Britain with a teenage daughter (the back story is not explained) and now lives in a village in Leicestershire, working as a hairdresser and married to a local man who runs a garage. But despite her apparently settled existence she still feels the pull of the world she left behind – and the tension this creates is the theme of the film. An interesting twist (for a British audience) is how the English countryside (very visible in the film) is treated - a seemingly innocent rural retreat for the would-be novelist from Moscow. The soundtrack is superb – very evocative.

I liked "Season of Mists" (in Russian "Sezon Tumanov"). Without being redundant and repeating fine plot synopsis written by one of the sponsors Neil McCartney, my comments will be directed primarily toward the film interpretation and technical features rather than the literal narrative. I also was physically transplanted into another country where I live now already for 30 years and also from Russian-speaking world. There is indeed (or at least was) a significant difference in transplanting, especially while at a mature age, into a quite dissimilar cultural environment. While this is one of the messages, I believe the most important one is rather a midlife crisis and feminism's issues.

In the "Season" authors consider a case of a very bright and intelligent woman (and a feminist's message is very pertinent here) who settled, perhaps due to economic or selfish reasons, into a marriage to a 'good and decent man' who she does not quite love, but deeply respect. Her skills and talents seem to be misused (or under-utilized) in the English village, among those good meaning but simple country folks. She's obligated to this simple auto-mechanic, Gregory, who brought up her daughter as his own and loves her dearly. She's torn between her loyalty and gratitude to her husband and her ambition. This is a feminist work that shows greater dependence of woman upon external circumstances than of a man; even in the developed societies, woman is still more vulnerable, primarily because of her children, upon external circumstances and assigned social roles.

This English village is separated from the outside world by a roman-aqueduct (or a bridge) alluding to something basic, primal and ancient. The strange stone-statue and the old man (Darby), a sacred priest of the stone, who deals with the loss of his dear wife by imagining that she was kidnapped by aliens, he performs a daily ritual of her imminent return. Marina, the heroin of the film, roams around the countryside, on the edge of her village-universe; she walks on the roman-aqueduct, straight on the border between hers and outsider world. But at last, the time had come - Marina has an opportunity and acts on it - she falls in 'love' with Sasha, a second violin (the fact that he is a second, not first is quite significant). She also has an opportunity to be a published author. It is not that she is extremely talented, but perhaps she's not entirely gift-less. Her friend, Valya, appears to be successful in the profession, without having any talent. But what Valya's 'success' affording her? - An active social life, without true love and family, in the beautiful, yet cluttered and unkempt apartment. Initially appealing to Marina, eventually she dismisses all of this and chooses her old, stable, familiar life. She finds more meaning and fulfillment in this old English village.

Marina's decision to stay with Gregory is helped by her becoming pregnant from Sasha, who's melancholy, 'quiet desperation' and lack of initiative makes him a poor candidate for the role of father. Marina is pregnant again - with Sasha's child. It is as if this ancient English-heartland is good for education, family but is impotent to produce its own offspring and needs the blood from outside world (like Russia). Gregory (an old England) will accept this new child, as his own, as he already had done with Dasha, another Marina's child.

The final sequence, when Sasha comes to see Marina and finds her with the new child, without understanding that this is his own, relieved to learn that Marina will not be with him after all; he goes to the magic stone, where its priest, Darby, meets him. He always felt uncomfortable in this old English country, with its language and traditions. He rushes on the tractor (of all modes of transportation selected by the director) to bring him to the frontiers, this old roman-aqueduct that separates him from his Russian world. He appears to be content.

The "Season of Mists" is not just about mists in our lives. This is, first and foremost, a feminist's film; it is made by a woman and has the female feel to it. It provokes a quiet contemplation, without effusion and cheep effects. I heartily recommend this film for serious and patient people.

Hollywood and art house: the two basic forms of contemporary cinema. One of them tends towards being entertainment and escapist-oriented; the other delights in exploring the vagaries and trials of real life. It takes an artist to make 'real life' entertaining, especially if the film in question is dealing with flat and grey matters like the everyday disappointment of expectations. Two recent British films seem to me however to have hit the authentically Chekhovian note: one of them Joanna Hogg's 'Archipelago', the other being the film under review, an Anglo-Russian production directed by Anna Tchernakova.

Marina, the heroine of 'Season of Mists', is, like the director herself, an expatriated Russian living in the West, and one of the questions the film asks rather subtly is whether it is possible to have a fulfilled life in a country that isn't one's own. (The same question, as a matter of fact, that Tarkovsky was asking in 'Nostalghia'.) Language comes into the matter, but also the genius of the locality. Tchernakova makes a good job of showing how rural south Leicestershire is the most ordinary place on earth - yes, even downright boring - but at the same time magical and wonderful, and imbued with misty poetic grace.

So, why wouldn't you want to live there - especially if you were happily married? That's the question. True love tends to cut through every dilemma, but, although living companionably enough with her garage-mechanic Welsh husband Gregory (a nice performance by Ifan Huw Dafydd), one pretty soon gets the feeling he doesn't come near to fulfilling Marina's highest and deepest ideals. Thus, when along comes a party of Russian musicians - quarrelsome, talkative and fond of the bottle - of course she falls for one of them: it is inevitable. Since this is a film rather than a piece of theatre (or indeed a television play) we can actually go to Moscow with Marina, and take another look around at her birth place. What a lot of life there is in the city, compared to sweet little middle-class England! But is it the right kind of life? And what does one mean by 'a lot of life' anyway? The temptations inherent in the situation are nicely and evenly drawn by Tchernakova. We watch with fascination our heroine trying to make up her mind at the onset of a ferocious mid-life crisis (it makes it more piquant that a child or, rather, children, are involved). Should she obey the promptings of desire (such promptings may after all be merely temporary), or settle for what she has - knowing, or fearing, that in doing so she is opting for second best? Such is the dilemma the movie hinges upon, with some freshly-observed secondary characters, just to make the situation complicated and interesting. Whatever happens, it is not going to be a conventional happy ending. But are we left therefore with an inevitably 'tragic' ending? This is how the film seems to me to be very clever. Often, in life, we simply don't know what our blessings are - or whether indeed blessings come into the matter.Is the colour of life grey, or is it silver? Or both at the same time? Are we - in this film - in spring or in autumn? And what would Chekhov have made of Marina?

A gentle and moving film set between a sleepy English village and the hustle and bustle of Moscow. The story follows Marina, bored with her mundane life as wife and mother, on her journey towards fulfilment both in love and in her career. Marina is a writer who gets an opportunity to publish her work in Moscow. A brief chance encounter with a fellow Russian throws her love life in disarray. Faced with a dilemma and running a risk of losing all in the process, she makes an unpredictable choice to create the best possible future for herself. This film is beautifully shot, engaging and relevant. The main character delivers an outstanding performance. Catch it if you can.

I went to the opening of the film here in the UK and I enjoyed it a lot.

I felt at first it was very slow but it became clear after a short period of time that this set the scene for what was to come. A charming film which explores the themes of boredom in a small English village and the ideas of what could have been. The characters develop well and you genuinely feel the tensions of the main character Marina as she struggles to know what to do, torn between two worlds.

I liked it.

Ravinol