Belorussky Station

For a long time, the Soviet Union liked to pretend that after the victory in World War II, the long-longed-for socialist paradise had been achieved. Not everything is perfect, but surely people who have gone through the hell of the Eastern Front, comparatively unscathed, are the most valued people in the Union. Andrey Smirnov tries to contest this convention.

Moreover, he had a lot of trouble making this movie. He was already a controversial director on the verge of being blacklisted, so when he picked up a script that inferred not everything was peachy for veterans, a lot of eyebrows were raised.

The story is in itself about these four different men, who really wouldn't be seen with each other if not for the shared experience of war. After all, there is no stronger bond than a soldier's bond. Alongside them trying to reconnect after burying their commander, they are now observing how the lives around them are moving on and the values of the next generation being in complete conflict with theirs. You immediately detect that, over 25 years later, none of them moved on, almost as if the lives they lead are simply epilogues and their true selves are evermore stuck in the 41-45s. Of course, all of that conundrum is silent, because that generation is any if not idyllic representation of stoicism. The sacrifice that they made they would repeat in the heartbeat for the next generation, but the window into their unperturbed melancholy is all the more interesting for that.