User reviews

To fully understand this movie you should understand the mindset and milieu of the Eastern Bloc - preferably the Soviet Union - of the 1980s, in the height of the Cold War. This movie is radically different from Western post-apocalyptic movies like 'The Day After' or 'Threads' which deal with the very materialistic side of a nuclear holocaust, like the effects of bombs and life after the war. This Soviet movie is not a spectacle and its aim is far from simply entertaining or scaring. It ponders on the philosophic and moral side of a nuclear war, a suicide of mankind and whether it's inevitable or not.

There is barely any storyline. The main character is an unnamed scientist who lives in a makeshift shelter under a museum, among saved relics from all eras of history and some of his surviving colleagues. Being all scientists they are trying to grapple the whole point of what happened. There are no names, except for the wife and son of this scientist: Anna and Eric. Eric is presumably dead as he was outside when the bombs exploded. Nevertheless the scientist keeps writing letters to him, in a form of a diary, which is more to save his last thoughts of the world than actually meant to be delivered someday.

The pace of this film is just as slow and time would be in such a situation. Soviet art movies were not bound by economic constraints so it did not matter to their makers whether the tickets will sell well or not. Modern moviegoers would find the entire thing profoundly boring, and even the most dedicated movie hipster would look at the clock time to time. Being this slow is part of the image the movie builds. Just like the characters, the viewer is also immersed in an endless waiting, never to know whether something is going to change or happen. You actually have to watch it to the very end to see. Don't expect rich experiences. In such a dull and dead world it's a rare gift to see anything happen.

Interestingly, the makers took great care to emphasize that this is not happening in the Soviet Union. Or more exactly, it could happen, but this particular place is not a Soviet city. There is not a single object in the background with Cyrillic letters on it, but there are a lot of things with English labels, some are even consumer goods rare behind the Iron Curtain at that time. German beer cans float in the water - canned beer was a curiosity that time - and a bottle of Jagermeister is seen on a desk. Canned foods are also foreign, with English labels. Even the soldiers carry weapons that look like a crossbreed of American M-16 and M-1 rifles. It's a small detail, but back then every able-bodied Soviet men were familiar with Soviet military equipment, having spent years as a conscript, and this clue is giving away that the scene takes place in a foreign country. Even the military vehicles were selected to keep this illusion. The helicopter is a Ka-26 which was never used by the military (in the Soviet Union at least), the large truck is a MAZ missile trailer, but there was also a civilian version of it. The then- futuristic hovercraft that appears for no apparent reason was an experimental vehicle at the time, but such vehicles were already operating as ferries on the English Channel, and were praised as a great technical advancement of the time.

I'd generally recommend this movie for those who are desperate enough to take a plunge into a strange, lost civilization's vision of the violent end of the world. Not a date movie, except if your date is a hardcore movie culture fanatic or grew up in the Soviet Union.

This "Letters from a Dead Man" simply has got to be, hands down, one of the top three most depressing and pessimistic movies I ever encountered in my life. Of all Sci-Fi films dealing with remnants of life after the apocalypse – and believe me they are quite numerous – this Soviet Union produced sleeper upraises the most nightmarishly realistic and harrowing atmosphere ever. Even in your worst imaginable nightmares and premonitions, the post-nuclear existence probably still doesn't look as decayed and melancholic as illustrated here in this film. Survivors are forced to live underground, in the caves and catacombs of destroyed buildings, and have little else to do but watch each other fading away emotionally as well as physically. They can't go the surface without wearing special outfits and gas masks, but even then there's nothing else to do but stroll around between ruins, car wrecks and rotting corpses. With monotonous photography and the exclusive use of a yellow-tinted picture, director Konstantin Lopushansky (an acolyte of the Russian master Andrei Tarkovsky) fabricates the ideally lugubrious ambiance, and he can also rely on the devoted cast and bleakly void screenplay to assist.

The story revolves on Rolan Bykov as a scientist – former Nobel Price winner, even – who entrenched himself underneath the remnants of a library building along with his wife and a handful of co-workers. The titular letters are addressed to his son whom the scientist hasn't seen or heard from since the catastrophe. The letters and above all the hope his son is still alive somewhere is what keeps the poor man going, but how long can you hold on to hope when you see everything and everyone around you dying? "Letters from a Dead Man" is a difficult but ultimately very rewarding cinematic experience to endure. Difficult, of course, because of the emotionally devastating imagery and atmosphere, and because there's actually very little substantial content. We literally stare at a handful of people languishing and eventually dying, with only a small hint at hope near the end. And rewarding because of the depiction of genuine humane sentiments and the thought-provoking messages. It's also highly remarkable how "Letters from a Dead Man" remains continuously vague regarding the cause of the apocalypse and eventually even searches the guilt in the own heart. In a time where movies released on the other side of the Iron Curtain (in Europe and particularly the USA) routinely blamed Russia for the potentially upcoming apocalypse, this tale suggests the root cause of the catastrophe lies in a human error during the launch of a space shuttle. The entire cast gives away tremendous performances. I don't know if these people are veteran actors and actresses in their home countries, but their grimaces and catatonic behavior suggest that they were selected especially for this type of discouraging parable. Fantastic film; though obviously not fit for all occasions and/or audiences.

One needs to be in a resilient mood to watch Lopushansky's films, particularly this one. It surely is one of the gloomiest, saddest films out there, bare, raw and hyperealistic. It could not be otherwise, since its purpose is to show the aftermath of a massive nuclear attack on a large city somewhere, without heroes, without Hollywoodian last-minute miracles and hopes. The end of civilisation, the end of humankind.

The nuclear catastrophe, we are told, happened by accident. Most of the few remaining survivors are physically or mentally sick, going about zombie-like, and slowly dying off in a few dimly lit underground shelters. The situation above ground is even worse, with high-radiation, wreckage, rubble, strong winds and little light (some kind of "nuclear winter"), rotting corpses everywhere.

The main character is an old scientist who tries to preserve some sense of purpose, inter alia by continuing his work and by writing letters to his missing and most likely dead son, letters that are not sent because there is no address to send them to. The acting by R. Bykov who plays the scientist, is impeccable, and the same goes for the rest of the cast, although it seems out of place to think and comment on these matters in a film dominated by sheer horror.

The limited colour gamma used (mostly dirty ochres, greys and blacks) effectively reinforce the feeling of oppression and hopelessness this film so effectively conveys from beginning to end.

Very hard and painful to watch, but perhaps necessary to get an idea of what our world could look like, were we to use the horrific weapons we have created. Did in fact look like, for some, when these weapons were used at the end of WWII.

This is quite an obscure picture, even by Russian standards... It is dark (literally), morbid, disturbing at times... It requires quite an effort to watch. But it is one of those quite numerous Russian films that leave a deepest impression on the viewers by making them THINK. It is one of those brilliant "what if.." ponderings, never really giving you a final answer, or even if suggesting anything, leaving it open for the viewers to make their own conclusions. Perfectly cast (faces DO match the setting!), perfectly performed, and even the "special effects" - something Russian film-makers never have money or enthusiasm for - look quite convincing for their time. It IS hard to watch, and one probably has to be in a certain mood to watch it (I'd recommend watching it alone), but it is worthwhile experience and you will never regret it.

It took me some time to remember the title of this film, and it's certainly a hidden gem. In it's very slow pace, it transfers the mood of what will probably be if we went through a nuclear war. Great cinematography, and the quality of the film just makes it more profound and hipnotizing.

If you find this film, take your time any rainy day, and drift away in a world of dead and dying.

The story takes place in an eastern European country(no reference is made to what country) after a nuclear war. A military regime has been imposed, there is no reference weather this is a local regime or an occupation. The soldiers tend to carry western weapons like AR pattern rifles and HK G3. The main character lives with coworkers under the university buildings where they once worked , all characters have a type of confession to tell relating to the catastrophe. Decay is everywhere but there is also irony in the decay and destruction, such as the scene in the library that is half covered in water with pages upon pages floating on this evil soup of corpses and texts that the main character ,as a true scholar, goes to a semi submerged desk to study a book. Just like "Threads" this is the only other movie that truly shows how final a nuclear apocalypse would be.

The world after a nuclear disaster. A world taken from the pages of Revelation. Dim light illuminates a scene of utter destruction. Survivors are sheltered in damp underground shelters while a nuclear winter screams over their heads. In the absolute turmoil the thirst for survival and the world human soul seeks the hope to continue ...

Letter from a Dead Man, established amidst the panic of a nuclear holocaust, the result of the irrational arms escalation with which the United States and the Soviet Union were putting pressure on each other and which threatened to transform life on our planet into something impracticable. However, the accident at the Chernobyl plant, which occurred five months before the premiere of this film, determines its most obvious message.

The panic to lose everything is definitely achieved, to reset the historical evolution of one single action, to forget the identity of species and break the commonly admitted social contract was identical in capitalism and socialism, especially because it was the common sense of the ordinary citizen who was demonstrating in pursuit of a understanding. What was the point of mutual annihilation, if no one would emerge victorious from the final battle? What is the goal of total domination, if there is nothing left to dominate? What is the meaning of the will to try to impose your own model, if the future is nothing more than a barren terrain lined with rubble?

But despite the uncompromising staging of the film, Konstantin Lopuschanski retains, maybe naturally, a humanistic core. Aside from the anti-nuclear aspect, "Letter From a Dead Man" is a haunting reminder for reason, in the resolute emphasis on human humanity, which ultimately represents a final anchor of hope. Therefore, the film closes with a quote from the infamous 1955 "Russel Einstein Manifesto" against nuclear war: "There lies before us, if we choose, continual progress in happiness, knowledge, and wisdom. Shall we, instead, choose death, because we cannot forget our quarrels? "

The protagonist and his fellow sufferers are constantly preoccupied with questions about humanity, about the conditions of the human race and the absurdity of war. A resident of the museum bunker, for example, dictates a pathetic pamphlet to his secretary about the fatality of the civilization process in the machine, marked by deep disgust for progress and the awareness of the ultimate end of humanity - as a testament for subsequent civilizations. "Mankind was a tragic species, doomed perhaps from the very beginning." One of the roommates expresses his deep love for humanity in a farewell prayer shortly before his suicide; "Love created art, an art which reflects our unbearable yearning for perfection, our immense despair, our endless cry of terror..."

there is a also a great thought-provoking scene where the professor (the protagonist) remembers his childhood nightmare; when he was frightened by a big locomotive; and now it seems to him that it was he - with his inventions - who created the giant locomotive that overran humanity: and his most terrible dream is the one in which he sees his son on the rails...

Finally the professor tells his prodigal son the story of his fears, dreams and research, all of which together expresses one thing: his ambivalence between hope and self-abandonment, which characterize his whole situation and the essence of the movie. The movie also gives more suggestion to an existentialist and humanistic side that states that the face of death is not scary anymore given that everything has perished. And that hope can still be found in youth as the only remaining symbol of innocence, and that it is impossible to imagine that humanity will be wiped out permanently from the face of the earth.

Lopushansky assisted Tarkovsky during the production of Stalker - and that influence is clearly visible in every shot. that is its: sepia tones, long, static shots or slow driving on the landscape, melancholy intonation of caring questioning about where modern man is heading imbued with religious faith, etc. Visually, almost the entire film is coloured of sepia, brown-black, a ugly, grainy, 'dirty' sepia. it's not that high-contrast, sharp and somehow 'beautiful' sepia of STALKER. This is a film about a world that has driven itself to the grave, with a slow, elegiac, torturous atmosphere, it shows the last twitches of a man's futile attemps to save humanity.

But given all these great quotes etc, the movie's plot, in the beggining, is hard to grasp and many big factors in the film is not understandable at first. Thus it have a relatively poor structure and narrative.

This is a post-apocalyptic movie where a group of Russian intellectuals, living in the airtight vaults of a museum, cling on in the twilight, going slowly mad according to their own pompous wonts.

The movie is unremitting in its depressing depiction of a dead world. I was stuck between turning it off because it was almost sacrilegiously depressing, and remaining because of the sheer cataclysmic beauty. The images are mostly tinted yellow, although some shots are in tints of blue. There is no way this experience is going to allow you the respite of polychromatic images.

There is a body of work that deals with the end of humankind in cinema, but any example I can think of seems completely notional in conception, this one actually felt like a recording of the end of days, as unflinchingly profane as a documentary of viaticums.

I think it's also a tombstone for communism in Russia, suggested as a blind alley, and advocates a return to pre-revolutionary values regarding family and religion. But only in an intensely personal way, as if recounting the death of a close family member. It is more than a warning against nuclear war. In its parodying of ridiculous, pontificating, and obstructive authority, it's an emesis of authoritarian communism, a whole-hearted, wholesale rejection.

As an endnote, there's a dolly-out in the first few minutes of the film that left my jaw on the floor, practically the best shot I've ever seen in cinema, my congratulations to Konstantin Lopushansky and his team.

When I sat down to watch this film, I, of course, thought that it would impress me. But I could not even think that he would take away from me all the positive emotions.

This movie is a warning. It is scary to think how many times the world was on the verge of the Apocalypse. Not the divine Apocalypse, but one that can fly on the wings of a rocket launched by a foggy enemy.

Rolan Bykov, I was once again convinced of this, one of the best actors of Soviet cinema. He so organically played the role of the "Dead" ... well, what can I say? Master!

The letters that the hero of Bykov (incidentally, a professor who received the Nobel Prize) writes to his late son, only reinforce the already gloomy atmosphere of the film.

But, nevertheless, there is some optimism in the film. What can not but rejoice. However, I was insincere when I said that the film sucked all the positive emotions out of me. One more thing remains: hope. Part of me hopes that one day we will wake up and the world will no longer have nuclear weapons. But the other part, however, understands that a world without nuclear weapons is the world that is discussed in this film. This is a world in which there is nothing that holds back human destructive nature.

A scary movie ... hopefully not prophetic.

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Unpopular opinion here but I'd like to think I have the basis for not liking or totally endorsing a film that could be a minor masterpiece of its era. "Letters from a Dead Man" could be interpreted as a response to the Chernobyl disaster, which took place a few months prior to the film's release. It could also be viewed as a response to the American/UK films about the frequent nuclear disaster and possible outcome of atomic bombs being dropped to a nation. Director Konstantin Lopushanskiy's first feature film obviously couldn't been an attack to the Soviets, their delay in spreading the news to the world and the way they dealt with the whole situation. Instead, he creates an apocalyptical world post-nuclear attack and how people survive in shelters and watered pits, trying to live with their best means they can while men, women and children keep on dying or having to face strict control by their own people - for instance, when the kids aren't allowed to enter a more safer place. Doctors keep on doing their job but it's all hopeless and no one can get out to the surface to see what's left after the blast, a world turned into a red dust, shattered and with some military forces telling us that people aren't allowed to go outside unless they have a pass. The film's point of view is from a scientist who reflects about not only his conflicts about a major part in creating the technology that caused the world's collapse and killed humanity, or reduced it to a future death sentence but he also ponders about (in letters) to his missing son - who is probably dead - and reminds of how their life used to be. Simple yet frank letters, yet they don't carry a higher sense of usefulness or, in this case, I deeply wanted a sort of sentimentality. To me, those letters were just a nostalgia that led to nowhere. I cared more for the character when he despertaly tried to get out of the pit and try to look for his son then just keep reminiscing about a life that is no longer there.

The "Stalker" like visuals are cool but they're empty and void without the master's visual touch and sublime poetry. Konstantin makes a noble and valuable effort, a direct message to the Cold War world and its constant paranoia of bombing each other, with threats more real year went by but there's something missing: it's heartless, a snooze fest that fails to convince and to make us immersed in its calamity, the tragedy.

1980's. In the wake of similar themed works such as "The Day After", "Special Report", "Testament", "When the Wind Blows" and "Threads" (yet to be seen by me, despite hearing about this one being the most horrific and realistic of them all the forementioned films), this artistic Soviet response was bureacratic just as was the treatment given to the Chernoby disaster - in fact, this film comes as reply to the events that shook Ukraine on the same year and that's why it's so important to at least get a glimpse to this film. But the director's presentation is faulty, beyond claustrophobic and hard to make your heart pulse. Sure, "The Day After" contained some of those depressive qualities and we wonder if the world was going to end or continue after a nuclear fallout. But I was confused with "Letters...": for what I gathered it was an human error that detonated a nuclear device that turned everything into dust and radiation was spread, and government still found ways to control people with curfews, passes and contained people underground - pretty much what USSR would actually do in such scenario.

I disagree about the artist quote about art being useless/pointless - in the film context, it sort of works that way, but thinking a little deeper, art would probably be the only source of comfort for those in better shape/health. Imagination is what keeps us alive. Lopushanskiy had a few of it but not strong enough to create a shock to the senses, a catalyst for a deeper reflection despite the several thoughts shared by the characters about life and what's left of it after a disaster. I felt tired, depressed beyond my usual ways and didn't find any of those letters to Erick compelling, hearted or with some deep meaning.

For the most of it, I think most people are seeing way too much about the film's message. It's there but it's too convoluted and almost inaccessible to most audiences. And I film like that should have been a little more down to audiences's earth. Like I said, it could be a minor masterpiece to make us reflect about mankind, the powers of be and how Chernobyl, though not being a nuclear attack of a nation against the other, made a whole shift in the gear when it comes to what nuclear energy was helpful in some ways but a disastrous and terrible thing for the environment and its people. In some brief moments, the story went quite well in dealing with such notion but it's just half way, doesn't go the extra mile needed for a higher discussion. 5/10

I can't confirm there was a direct passing of the torch between Andrei Tarkovsky and Konstantin Lopushansky, or that the two even knew each other, but I can't help but feel like there was a spiritual passing of the torch, in a way, in 1986. That year sadly saw the release of what was to be Tarkovsky's final film, The Sacrifice, as he passed away at just 54 years of age the same year. 1986 also saw the release of Lopushansky's debut, Dead Man's Letters, and it scratches the same itch as some of Tarkovsky's sci-fi works do, but not in a way that feels derivative.

It's more a natural extension of the sort of bleak, introspective, and visually stylized substance of certain Tarkovsky films, and rather than suggesting Lopushansky was ripping off Tarkovsky, I instead hope to compare them in a way that's complementary to Lopushansky. In fact, Dead Man's Letters has moments that got to me more on a gut level than just about anything Tarkovsky directed, and with this film, he really doesn't overstay his welcome with a runtime of 83 minutes (some Tarkovsky films can have somewhat challenging runtimes).

It's the fact both made movies in Russia, both dealt with dark subject matter, and both were willing to use similarly striking color schemes visually that makes me want to compare the two. At the risk of disparaging Tarkovsky, too, it's been many years since I saw the bulk of his filmography, and now I'm older (though not necessarily wiser), I may be able to go back and appreciate certain titles of his some more. As for Lopushansky, the only other film of his I've seen is 1989's A Visitor to a Museum, which is similar to Dead Man's Letters in some way, albeit longer and more ambitious... surprisingly, I think I like Dead Man's Letters a little more, though.

It's worth experiencing for its atmospheric post-apocalyptic qualities alone, as well as for a couple of key sequences that really sneak up on you and prove devastating. It's not a fun watch, but it felt rewarding and worth the time for sure.

Sepia sequences alternate with b/w sequences. Rolan Bykov as Prof Larsen, who won a Nobel prize is very impressive as is his dying wife Teresa (Svetlana Smirnova). Christian motifs dominate the film (burial rituals, Christmas tree, Christmas star that is not visible). Final sequences remind you of The Seventh Seal and of the ending of Stromboli. Very good antinuclear war tale with writing inputs of Boris Strugatsky.

Director Lopushansky is a protege of Tarkovsky. Impressive debut for Lopushansky.

The 1984 British TV movie 'Threads' seems to be somewhat of a minor cult oddity in certain parts of the internet. I mention this because Dead Man's Letters is essentially the Soviet response to that movie, a sulky grime-coated 80's production about a decayed world post-nuclear holocaust. The survivors live in ruins and rubble, run around the sepia-tinted fallout outside in rags and hazmat suits, then get sick and die...and that's it. Threads was an utter bore and its TV-production limitations really drag it down - nothing happens in that movie. People get sick from radiation and die and that's the whole entire movie; this was no more exciting. Dead Man's Letters has a bigger budget than many of its western counterparts of the decade, and they put it to a much more creatively cinematic use: yellow and blue-tinted cinematography, sets of Stalker-level industrial decay, scenes of fire and destruction scattered thru-out - but mostly it's just tired and worn people sitting and talking in shanty-town bunkers about their woes. Yawn.

I was expecting something along the lines of Come and See DownFall or Men Behind The Sun. No, This movie is a waste of time. There's no plot. The audio quality is horrible. The acting seems wooden, and the picture quality is terrible. There's nothing here that I can scrape and say hey, this is good.

No. The basic plot is about this old guy living with his wife, that is trying to communicate with his lost son. That's the whole plot. Screw you if that's what you call a movie. This was one of the worst things I have seen this year. And I wanted to like the film! Even Engineer Red and the Green Elephant is better than this thing.

I hated this movie. The upvotes on this are a lie. I do not understand what's the hype over this. If you want to watch a better survival movie, go watch Grave of the Fireflies, When The Wind Blows, and Combat Shock. This thing was a waste of time. I'd give this thing a negative one if I can. Also, I was expecting something DISTURBING in this thing. No, the only DISTURBING thing about this thing is how pointless it is.

Give me a reason to care about any of these characters, there's none, why? Because none of them have any build-up or likeability. How am I supposed to care about characters that are flat, wooden, and without any depth?

• There are prolonged scenes, of war that take about 20-30 minutes of the movie. Cutting that, we could have had a shorter movie, that flows a bit better.

• Why am I supposed to care about character instantly? Wouldn't it be better to introduce me to your characters, instead of having them in a nuclear blast? Meaning, we should have had character development, to get to know/like them, and then the Nuclear Blast would mean something, just like how When The Wind Blows do it... You get to learn about your characters first before you get to the nuclear blast...

• None of our characters have any depth, and most of them talk nonsense. This thing matches Eraserhead, as in it's just a mind-screwing movie, without any plot or reason to care.

• Where's the shock/gore/extreme footage? There's none. There are movies that don't have that but still are disturbing in their own rights like Requiem for a Dream or Triangle, why? Because both of those movies have characters you care about, here I couldn't care less for any of the characters.

• The picture quality and sound quality are just as bad. You got this grainy image that looks like the movie is from 1930, even those films have better picture quality. I had to pull my headphones three times, due to that irritating sound that just makes the movie even worst to watch.

• A lot of people compare this to Come and See, that's a horrible insult to Come and See. Come and See is a movie that has likable characters, a plot, strong writing, and a lot going for it. I love Come and See, and this is incomparable to Come and See on all levels...

• I don't know what is it, but this movie did not click with me at all. I was not engaged, I was not disturbed, I was not shocked, and I was not liking any of our characters, I was just bored to tears.