Some stories feel like they are set in a pressure cooker, and Anna Brenner’s The Karamazovs bolts the lid on tight from the first frame. We are dropped into a bleak, wintery scene at an isolated oceanfront home, a setting so cold it feels like it seeps through the screen. This is the dying ground of Fyodor, a patriarch whose spite is the only thing keeping him warm.
His impending death has summoned his three estranged children, each carrying their own baggage. There is the scheming Dmitri, a brother desperate for inheritance money to solve his problems. He is joined by his sisters: Viv, a disillusioned activist filmmaker, and Aly, who seeks peace within her religion.
Dmitri’s demand for cash is the lit match thrown into a room filled with emotional gasoline. The resulting fire is inevitable, but when it culminates in Fyodor’s murder, the film shifts...
His impending death has summoned his three estranged children, each carrying their own baggage. There is the scheming Dmitri, a brother desperate for inheritance money to solve his problems. He is joined by his sisters: Viv, a disillusioned activist filmmaker, and Aly, who seeks peace within her religion.
Dmitri’s demand for cash is the lit match thrown into a room filled with emotional gasoline. The resulting fire is inevitable, but when it culminates in Fyodor’s murder, the film shifts...
- 7/2/2025
- by Zhi Ho
- Gazettely
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