In a Russian coastal town, Kolya is forced to fight the corrupt mayor when he is told that his house will be demolished. He recruits a lawyer friend to help, but the man's arrival brings further mi...
Leviathan overwhelms its vodka-induced characters with serpentine trenchant ambition. “Truth is with us. The Lord’s love is with us, and in defending our faith, we will not liken ourselves to our enemies, but just as Christ, shed light on the truth and unmasked the lies with one word”. The Eastern Orthodox Church expands its faith upon the mortals on this bitter land, consuming individuals with words of enlightenment. Preventing God’s words from seclusion. But much like the Church, the current Russian State entangles its cold reptilian limbs across the Siberian landscape, devouring the innocent lives it promised to nurture. For it is the tyranny of man that exhumes greed and gluttony. Reaping affluence through gargantuan unstoppable powers. Masquerading totalitarianism within its falsely advertised democracy.
Zvyagintsev’s most ambitious work to date is an insight into the social issues of contemporary Russia, or more specifically, the Putin administration. Tragedy strikes Kolya and his family when the local mayor takes legal action to expropriate the land on which his house is built. Paralleling the theological work behind the Book of Job, Zvyagintsev addresses theodicy by comparatively illustrating the despotism of the Church and the State. The mayor, corrupting everything he glances upon, representing the political detriments that Russia currently faces. He is the leviathan. Kolya embodies Job, and his close friends oppressed by the local council depict Job’s three friends. Zvyagintsev equips biblical text, modernises its literal substance to suit current Russian society and still, much like the book, investigated the problems of divine justice. The damnation of the righteous.
Through his unflinching direction, he illustrates the presumption of innocence only to be juxtaposed by divinity. “Innocent until proven guilty” repeatedly states Kolya’s lawyer friend. Yet even he succumbs to the behemoth-like powers of the mayor. Punishing his blackmailing sin through, what is considered, retributive justice. The omniscience and omnipotence of the State, likens itself to a deity. The antithesis of what it represented. What the people voted for. What the people wanted. Again, Zvyagintsev takes a neutral standpoint when depicting the family’s tragedy, neither attacking or praising the current climate of contemporary Russia. And with that unbiased narrative, he’s able to project his aspiration through clinical precision. Every single frame is handled with the utmost importance. Character actions are natural responses to any given situation, not forced reactions to condemn a particular body.
Consequently, the neutrality of Leviathan produces Zvyagintsev’s most formidable feature yet. It is bleak. Depressing. Intimidating. Soul-crushingly wretched. Blustery chills that shroud the fictional town of Pribrezhny flow through the screen and into your body. It’s, unfortunately, real. And that ornate sense of reality enhances Leviathan’s staying power. Krichman’s much improved cinematography, from vanishing points illustrating loss of belief to harsh waves crashing on sharp cliffs, assists in building a world where the powerful rule. Performances from the entire cast were exceptionally nuanced. Serebryakov’s hotheaded temper fluctuated extravagantly, granting Kolya a guarded aura. Madyanov as the mayor exhumed tyranny through expressionistic anger and corruption. Yet it was Lyadova’s muted performance that shattered my heart. Fulfilling a connection with my own soul with just her eyes alone. Breathtaking acting.
Glass’ noteworthy score also exemplified the grandeur of Leviathan’s story. As with most of Zvyagintsev’s filmography, some scenes were stretched out adding no substance to the plot, however I’m unable to claim that any should be cut. It’s an arduous experience that should feel onerous for all the right reasons. And it does. The excess amount of vodka bottles drunk by depressed characters did somewhat tickle a stereotype that Western audiences often perceive. Although not a substantial detriment, far too excessive with minimal representation.
Regardless, this remains Zvyaginsev’s most alluring piece. Leviathan consumes. Leviathan corrupts. Leviathan devastates. A half-buried whale skeleton looms over the arid seas. Alone. Disintegrated. Dead. What was once a creature of grandiose stature, now lies in ruin. Forever witnessing the greed of tyranny engulfing the innocence of man. Forever suffering.
