A Father, running from the darkness of the past, takes his Son from Moscow to try to reach the Qırım/Crimean town of Коктебель (Koktebel, also known as Planerskoye). With no money, the winds of fate are their guides (the wind which also aids flight). The father (played by Igor Csernyevics) was a aeronautics engineer, and through the Son (Gleb Puskepalis), there is consistent reflection on the implied freedom of flight. Indeed the boy has the ability to "see from above", like a bird looking down on us.
Talking of the effortlessness of the Albatross, the future transformation of a worm into a butterfly (of which the father knows the latin name), and of the old monument to gliders at their final destination of Koktebel; the present (of no money, little food and the threats of the road), is subtely transformed into a journey of hope. The characters they meet reflect on the warmth and humanity (if not mixed with paranoia in the case of the alcoholic Dacha owner; yet even he keeps his humanity intact) that is present even in the tough, cold and harsh economic climate represented here.
The Directors, Boris Khlebnikov and Aleksei Popogrebskii, measure perfectly the rhythms needed to allow the story to grow. Using just the right blend of stoic determination and magic (magic realism anyone?) for their storytelling, I was captivated. The slight detachment from their characters, and the sparsity of emotional heaviness is perfect in maintaining and driving the metaphorical base of the film intact. As an example, the relationship that develops between the lonesome Doctor and Father, is handled in a perfectly elliptical way, we don't see but we (and the Son) understand perfectly. Indeed much of the film involes understanding without explicit instruction. The camera suggests us a direction.
And so it it is the cinematography of Shandor Berkeshi that is utterly captivating. With a warmth and patience, he gives us a Sea deep and rich with images. For example, as the Father repairs the roof of one of the characters (the alcoholic Dacha owner) they meet, he throws the old metal down to the ground. As it falls, the camera focuses on each piece as it drifts and glides to the Earth and the theme of flight and freedom implies itself against the present servitude they are performing working for some money.
The understated, patient poetry of these wonderfully delicate images gives us the guides to know the protagonists and the the journey on which they travel. The camera is used to give us suggestions, never impose on us some absolute reality; yet those suggestions are lyrical and beautiful.
