Educational Media Reviews Online

Sergei Loznitsa’s multiple award winning series is a brilliant and evocative look at how Russian life is changing. The Factory examines an old industrial plant in the Urals that produces both steel and clay blocks, focusing first on the men in the blast furnace pouring molten metal, and then on the women on the assembly line as they shift, stamp and trim the blocks of clay. Filmed without dialog, Loznitsa’s camera captures both the danger, monotony and dehumanizing quality of industrial production and the power and majesty of the industrial process. A close viewing evokes reminders of both Chaplin’s Modern Times and Fritz Lang’s Metropolis and leads one to question how the Soviet Union could have appeared to be such a looming menace with such an antiquated industrial system.

Portrait, Loznitsa’s exquisite depiction of Russian agricultural workers within the context their community, is accompanied only by a sound track of the howling sound of blowing snow, rushing spring water and sporadic dog and bird notes. His aged subjects are beautifully framed within their setting, and the eye of the viewer is drawn to their weathered faces and the hand tools they are grasping. This is a portrait of tough people surviving in a very rugged environment.

As the blurred image of The Settlement emerges from the mist, workers appear quietly and rhythmically engaging in the ordinary tasks of rural life—herding cows, chopping logs. Gradually it becomes clear to the viewer that there is something quite different about this community. Some of the residents have their heads shaved, other exhibit rather bizarre behavioral ticks; there are attendants dressed in white coats mingling among the farmers. The hay is harvested, but then spread upon another field; potatoes are gleaned but left in sacks sitting in the field. The Settlement is an institution for the mentally ill. Loznitsa’s seems to be suggesting the inmates possess some special spiritual essence when in the final scenes the camera lovingly focuses on their wrinkled faces while a soprano voice sings an Ave Maria.

The Train Station is probably Loznitsa’s most eerie and enigmatic work. The camera examines the waiting room of an isolated railway station, lingering over the silent, sleeping forms while engines rattle and a solitary train whistle echoes in the background. The scene is bathed in a softly luminescent light—a little boy leans against the legs of his caretaker, a woman shifts in her sleep, but the question why these people are in the station remains a mystery.

Russia in Transition is a masterpiece of cinematography. The camera work and brilliant lighting create exquisite images; the films as a whole challenge but richly reward the careful viewer. This set is a must for schools with programs in film studies or cinematography and a delight for all who are interested in contemporary documentaries.