What an unexpected, extraordinary film. A man living in Siberia, diagnosed with cancer, facing imminent death, is told a story by a drunken shaman and feels compelled to start dressing as a woman. Which, in his deeply conservative village, is deemed a provocation which unleashes untold hellish consequences. Those are the bald narrative facts, but they don’t disclose the compelling, complex nature of a film which starts as a seemingly light, predictable drama then veers off into altogether stranger territory, building a growing tension as it does so. Quite apart from the more obvious commentary on rural Russian life and homophobia, what this film does so astutely is to make a feminist film which is targeted at men just as much as women. All of which is wrapped up in the leaves of a miracle. It manages to be both brutal and warm-hearted, without ever veering into sentimentalism. The performances of the two leads are remarkable. Evgeniy Tsyganov’s doleful charm means he completely convinces as a good father and a vulnerable woman. It’s a remarkable piece of acting, where every movement feels weighted and near perfect. In the last hour of the film I don’t think he says a word, but in spite of this we as an audience just grow closer and closer to him. The editing has that effortless mix of precision and surprise of all great editing. Finally the wonderful thing about this film, which I think in narrative terms gives it its power, is that we are never given any logical coherent clues as to why Igor chooses to do what he does. There’s no crafty set-ups, no insinuation, just an abrupt, illogical leap. And we make this leap with the character, holding hands with him/her as he plummets into the unknown.
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