Taksi-blyuz

The past collides with the present in this unflinching portrait of life behind the late Iron Curtain, showing the often antagonistic relationship between a half-mad, free-spirited saxophone player and his older, old-fashioned alter ego, a hack who has seen too many changes through the window of his Moscow cab. Alexei's exuberant, non-conformist energy is the catalyst for the drama but this is clearly Ivan's film, and the story matches his often irrational mood changes while staying remarkably true to its characters, presenting both archetypes in three not altogether appealing dimensions (Ivan is a traditional anti-Semite; Alexei is an irresponsible deadbeat). The film conveys with almost naked candor the seamier side of the new Moscow subculture, adding a somewhat veiled accusation of moral corruption and decadence in the social reforms of Perestroika. The imagery is often arresting, but if the film is critical of Western influence it isn't entirely immune to them, and it's disconcerting to see the story end in a routine car chase slapped together from what look like outtakes from a William Friedkin movie.