Ayka

Depressing depiction of the miserable life of the illegal immigrants in Moscow. Hardly any serious acting, many vulgar scenes, too much blood, and tiring move of the camera. Should have been some kind of a documentary, not a movie. I wonder how the hell it got so many awards and nominations. Being a movie fan for some decades, I can say with confidence now that minimum the 2/3 of any outsider movie with many awards and nominations are rubbish. Don't waste your time unless you are of the heavy cultural kind of person that applauds the below average films "because you found quality and hidden meanings" that the rest of us missed.

"Ayka" is the main festival success of the year of Russian cinema. The director of the film, Sergei Dvortsevoy, worked for 7 long years about 7 short days in inhospitable Moscow of a woman migrant worker. A barely standing pregnant woman is struggling for life with all her strength, taking on any hard work. Absolutely fair award for the best female role of the Cannes Film Festival went to the wonderful Kazakh actress Samal Eslyamova. Sad fact: the Ministry of Culture of Russia annually distributes a huge amount of money for mediocre films, but can not forgive the debt of the director of this film, which glorified Russia.

Quite a realistic film showing the life of migrant workers from the former Central Asian Soviet republics in modern "humane" Russia. The aesthetic pleasure the film does not deliver, but view it still makes sense.

Ayka, the striking movie of Sergei Dvortsevoy, presents not only such a powerfull sense of reality, but also an excellent cinematographical narration!

Every lovers of realist cinema should see this movie. Ayka promises for a rarely seen movie pleasure in addition to hard criticism on true horrible examples of actual poverty experiences.

We see a film that makes love to questions our souls seldom ask. The pain of attachment whispers to those of us finding love sacred, until we are all alone screaming in torment's silence.

A woman in Moscow attempting the forbidden, crossing the bridge of survival in the ice and snow of human apathy. As we are there with her, helplessness unflowering shock, the garden of our selfishness wants us to leave this immersion, are we drowning or escaping...Although we are the prisoner of our own denial, we would beg to lose the shackles of the woman in this film. Samal graces the river of my senses with a waterfall of paralysis. A rainbow of emotion awaits you. Become the fire of the sunrise. Or the darkness before the dawn. Fire does not burn. It illuminates. A film that blinds, that you may truly see and feel. Close to home...