"The Petrovs in the Flu" is a heavy film that fits our whole life

On September 7, Kirill Serebrennikov's new work, Petrovs in the Flu, based on the bestseller by Alexei Salnikov, will be released on Russian screens. Previously, a film by one of the most talked about Russian directors has already managed to get into the main program of the Cannes Film Festival. Unfortunately, he did not receive any prizes, but international recognition is already an important event.

After watching it, it becomes clear why foreign critics could not fully appreciate the "Petrovs in the Flu". The director shot an absolutely Russian picture, many of the details of which will be clear only at home. But at the same time, Serebrennikov created a very aesthetic allegorical story, where painful delirium is intertwined with social themes, discourses about art and traumatic childhood memories.

Surrealism plunging into illness

The nastily coughing protagonist Petrov (Semyon Serzin) rides on the bus and meets his strange friend Igor (Yuri Kolokolnikov). Communication develops into drunkenness, first in a hearse next to the deceased, and then in the house of another equally strange person.

In parallel, they talk about the ex-wife of Petrov (Chulpan Khamatova), who also fell ill with the flu. She works in the library, and in her leisure time attacks men with a knife. The hero's child dreams of getting to the New Year tree, but his temperature rises too. This leads Petrov to memories of his own trip to a holiday in childhood, where he met the Snow Maiden (Julia Peresild) with a very cold hand.

Of course, the review of any tape should start with a synopsis, but in the case of the "Petrovs in the Flu", difficulties arise already at this stage. The short description of the film may seem like a scattered and almost meaningless collection of dark scenes from the everyday life of a post-Soviet person.

There is some truth in this, but this is the idea of both the author of the literary primary source and Serebrennikov. Strange events from the lives of the heroes are mixed in their minds with delusions caused by the disease. It is impossible to separate what is real and what is only dreamed of in a fever.

Shot from the film "The Petrovs in the Flu"

But this does not need to be done. The plot is based on surrealism, which allows you to present what is happening as subjectively as possible. What difference does it make where the truth is here? It is important that the hero himself believes in this. No wonder Petrov is more of an observer than a participant in the events. He looks like an almost mystical character: closed, detached, always in the same obviously uncomfortable clothes - Serzin wore his father's sweater on the set, and Serebrennikov singled out his boots from his personal wardrobe. At some point, the hero will seem to rise above all the scenery of the film and will spy on the events through the window.

The director, filming Salnikov's bulky novel, did not even think to simplify it. On the contrary, Serebrennikov interweaves and connects those plots that the author of the original presented in separate chapters.

Because of this, it may seem that there is a lot that is superfluous in Petrovs in the Flu, as if the narrator is constantly distracted by side stories. Moreover, most of the lines do not lead to any result. Moreover, some of the scenes seem to have come from other films. For example, the part dedicated to Petrov's wife resembles the dark works of Charlie Kaufman. Snegurochka Marina receives her short film in retro style. If you throw out any of them, nothing will change.

And only by the middle of the picture it will become clear that this aimlessness of what is happening is the main idea. "The Petrovs in the Flu" must infect the viewer with the heroes' disease, plunging them into feverish delirium. This is achieved precisely with a viscous meditative presentation and a multitude of almost non-intersecting lines that emphasize the ineffectiveness of all the actions of the heroes. After all, a hallucination cannot have a specific ending. It just dissolves when the heat subsides.

Accidental relevance and eternal themes

Starting to work on the picture, Serebrennikov hardly guessed how topical the topic of illness would become at the time of the release of Petrovs in the Flu. There is no need to talk about the book written in 2016.

From the first shots, it is difficult to get rid of the idea that others are reacting too calmly to the endless cough of the protagonist. We'll have to deliberately pull ourselves back: two years ago it would not have caused such a painful reaction. What can we say about the time of the film: the exact dates are not named, but the entourage hints at the beginning of the 2000s.

But it's not even a matter of coughing - the metaphor is easy to continue. In the film, the flu changes the subjective world of the Petrovs, turning it into surreal delirium. And the coronavirus has influenced our objective reality, making it insane and meaningless at certain moments.

Of course, this mood became relevant by chance, and therefore it is not the main and not determining in the film. "The Petrovs in the Flu" talk about completely different topics, both important for Russians today and eternal. The tone is set by the opening scene with the visualization of the words about politicians who need to be put up against the wall. Drunken conversations will inevitably lead to discussions of religion, where a strange parallel between Christianity and Greek mythology will emerge.

In general, the image of higher beings and the afterlife will constantly, albeit unobtrusively, show through in the film. The initials of Kolokolnikov's hero clearly hint at the essence of his character. And the final exit of rapper Husky is on the modern version of Jesus. Rude and shabby, hurrying to the bus home. True, it is still not clear what Serebrennikov means by resurrection: changes in his native country, restoration of a person after a disease (more mental than viral) or the revival of art. Here you have to decide for yourself.

But instead of the same Husky track, the lines from Alexander Bashlachev's "Vanyusha" would be better suited to the stage:

“And silent sorrow will rise quietly

Without seeing, the stars are burning, whether there are bonfires.

And shake it off, not understanding

Not understanding why they buried it."

Literature in "Petrovs in the Flu" is no less than cinematography. Many lines can be considered a direct statement about the fate of the creator in Russia. Which for Serebrennikov, of course, is now a very personal topic: the director could not come to Cannes because of a criminal case.

No wonder the main character of the film is not just a locksmith, but also a comic book author. Although the image of his wife reveals the theme of art even more vividly. She works, it would seem, in the midst of silence, peace and creativity. But the heroine calculates the maniac from the books he regularly takes, and then prevents possible rape.

In the end, she has a breakdown during the meeting of the poets, which escalated into a brawl. Here, by the way, real writers and critics appear in the frame. What is this, if not a hint: art now simply cannot be aloof from life and the cruelty going on around.

The theme of the creator and his works reaches its apotheosis in a scene with a short but magnificent performance by Ivan Dorn. He plays a writer who, after struggling with publishing houses, decides that he can only become a legend after death. It is not difficult to catch here the allegorical farewell of Petrov himself to the creative beginning. But this only makes the episode brighter. A neat idea doesn't have to hide too deep.

Against their background, the novel about Marina may seem straightforward. And few people consider children's trees to be serious creativity. Yes, the Snow Maiden mechanically pronounces the memorized text, and the rest are thinking how to drink after the performance. Yulia Peresild here perfectly plays out the rough, lazy presentation of the workers of such matinees. Moreover, at the holidays, the actress performs every year since school, so she clearly knows all the ins and outs.

Although in the parts with the Christmas tree, Serebrennikov reveals a very understandable and comprehensive topic. Perhaps, "The Petrovs in the Flu" is the most honest film about the New Year, which is mechanically called almost the last "real" holiday. Beauty and a fairy tale remain only on old TV screens, where young Masha and Vitya from the 1975 film sing their funny song. But in reality, this is a time of illness, urgent work, fuss and fatigue. And the very show in the Palace of Culture, which should be the best holiday for children, turns into one of the main psychological traumas of a lifetime.

These scenes were collected from the memories of actors who were once dressed up by their parents as cockerels and bunnies and allowed to “have fun” with the tipsy artists of the local theater. And most importantly, after years, nothing has changed. Unless, instead of ears, Cheburashkas are now wearing a Sonic mask. The trauma and doom are the same.

Aesthetics of retro atmosphere and long shots

Of course, Kirill Serebrennikov is far from the first and not the only modern director to shoot a movie about the "Russian soul." But many of his talented colleagues often go to extremes. So, Yuri Bykov usually just hits in the forehead: he himself has repeatedly emphasized that he does not know how and does not strive to shoot too aesthetically, he just follows life itself. And Alexei Balabanov did about the same in his most social works.

Others finally go into metaphor, mixing topical issues with chthonic horror. Such was Zvyagintsev's "Leviathan", on the same field he tried to play the series "Topi" by Glukhovsky.

The Petrovs in the Flu find a balance of beauty and liveliness, immersing the viewer in an aesthetics close to David Lynch. In Serebrennikov's tape, even the light often comes from different colored lamps, which the American genius of surrealism is so fond of. Although the director takes infinitely long shots not from a Western colleague, but from his theatrical experience.

Here the camera of Vladislav Opelyants - a real master and constant operator of Serebrennikov - continuously monitors one or another hero, following them in different locations. And it's as difficult to stage as the film needs to be.

The adaptation, like the novel, turned out to be very protracted, sometimes almost unbearably slow. In the book, endless descriptions are to blame. So, if the hero approached the house, the reader was told about the size of the door, and about the barbecue in the yard, and about the car covered with snow.

The film visualizes this approach and for two and a half hours shows long shots of streets and corridors to a wide variety of melodies: from the hysterical songs of Fyodor Chistyakov and Yegor Letov to the classical accordion transcribed. And at the same time it adds a lot of small details. For example, each of the minor heroes has an element of the color of dried blood. And some artists will even be reincarnated 5-6 times per film. Because of this, the list of actors in the credits looks even funny.

Not without various inscriptions, with which Serebrennikov so loves to illustrate what is happening. True, now this is not a skeptic with signs, as it was in "Leta", but simply phrases on the walls and scoreboards. From the doomed "What to do?" and "You won't live to see the wedding" to the rude "It's time to blame." Although the atmosphere is best captured by the shortest word:

But all this does not turn into observation of reality, as in Bykov. The variety of artistic techniques in "Petrovs in the Flu" is simply amazing. The erotic scene in the library develops into a dance in the spirit of "Ecstasy" by Gaspar Noe. Petrov's memories of the tree are presented not only in the old 4: 3 picture format with a filter in the style of VHS-cassettes, but the whole action is shown by a subjective camera - literally through the eyes of a child.

The atmosphere of the past can be seen in many shots: whether it be the shabby corridors of a typical recreation center, a convenience store with a poorly functioning illuminated sign, or a gazelle that has difficulty starting from an intersection.

Marina's past, as expected, is revealed in black and white, as if mocking Soviet films about young ambitious girls who came from the provinces to a big city. Although there is a much more interesting move here: the heroine regularly sees everyone naked. They will not explain what is happening, but it is so logically woven into her storyline that all questions disappear by themselves. It remains only to be surprised at the accuracy with which the frames are glued together.

But the maximum talent of Serebrennikov as a director is revealed in the same scene with Dorn. A fragment of more than 10 minutes was filmed in one long frame without gluing. During this time, the heroes manage to go a long way, plunge into the world of a work of art and return to harsh reality. Perhaps this is not only the most beautiful and complex, but also the most important moment of the film, defining its whole essence.

The Petrovs in the Flu finally secure Kirill Serebrennikov's status as one of the best contemporary directors in Russia. But the film also proves that the author is not afraid to experiment. This is a complex and ambiguous work in which the viewer will have to look for all the explanations himself.

For all the gloom and tedious presentation of "Petrovs in the Flu", it is an incredibly aesthetic and even graceful movie made by true masters of their craft. The picture is sometimes hard, but after watching it I want to return to this atmosphere in order to finally put all the emotions and events in my head. Traumatic, but very familiar and even dear.