That this film was commissioned to mark the anniversary of the events portrayed in it might not sound that promising. That it was commissioned by the Belarusian government, widely considered "the last dictatorship in Europe," mightn't either. And promising it wasn't, when I sat down to watch what I thought would be just another war flick. Boy, was I wrong...
Say what you want about the Eastern front in WWII, but if there has ever been a battle for survival, that was it: in spite of their government, and in spite of having contributed themselves to starting the war (there is another excellent film, "Katyń," about that issue), Soviet citizens really did fight heroically for their land against an enemy who wanted them wiped off the face of the earth. Acts of heroism are countless, and there are many stories of dedication from that grim period that are almost incredible.
Had this film approached more "general" (that is, political) issues, it might have not really been that great. Yes, the Soviet government was just as responsible for the colossal defeat in the Summer of '41 than the Germans (perhaps more, since they were supposed to defend their people). Yes, that land used to be, until 1939, Polish; but the film blissfully leaves those issues (which are hinted, if briefly, clearly enough at the beginning) aside and rather concentrates on the facts of that summer.
The men and women who were abandoned to their doom took their fate with admirable conscience and great courage, and this, thankfully enough, is represented by the filmmakers with great respect and honesty: while a lesser director might have butchered the project with cheap sentimentality or a "that's what we'd all do" message -or with grotesque sanitizing and sanctification- director Aleksandr Kott chose to let the facts speak for themselves, and let people's decisions describe them.
An important note on "Brest Fortress" (and a sign of great rigour and mastery) is that we, as audience, are not moved to say: "Yeah, that's what I would do if I were him." It is a quite relevant feature of modern war films, but think about it: do you really know what to do? What would you do if you had absolutely no hope of either you or your loved ones getting out of here alive? It really takes nerve to answer honestly to that question, and the film, both in its clear and profound screenplay and in its powerful images (the dirt, the violence and the hunger are portrayed as realistically and skillfully as ever), does make you say: "I don't know if I could muster such courage myself." It's quite an achievement for an artist.
And it's quite a tribute to the dead.
Say what you want about the Eastern front in WWII, but if there has ever been a battle for survival, that was it: in spite of their government, and in spite of having contributed themselves to starting the war (there is another excellent film, "Katyń," about that issue), Soviet citizens really did fight heroically for their land against an enemy who wanted them wiped off the face of the earth. Acts of heroism are countless, and there are many stories of dedication from that grim period that are almost incredible.
Had this film approached more "general" (that is, political) issues, it might have not really been that great. Yes, the Soviet government was just as responsible for the colossal defeat in the Summer of '41 than the Germans (perhaps more, since they were supposed to defend their people). Yes, that land used to be, until 1939, Polish; but the film blissfully leaves those issues (which are hinted, if briefly, clearly enough at the beginning) aside and rather concentrates on the facts of that summer.
The men and women who were abandoned to their doom took their fate with admirable conscience and great courage, and this, thankfully enough, is represented by the filmmakers with great respect and honesty: while a lesser director might have butchered the project with cheap sentimentality or a "that's what we'd all do" message -or with grotesque sanitizing and sanctification- director Aleksandr Kott chose to let the facts speak for themselves, and let people's decisions describe them.
An important note on "Brest Fortress" (and a sign of great rigour and mastery) is that we, as audience, are not moved to say: "Yeah, that's what I would do if I were him." It is a quite relevant feature of modern war films, but think about it: do you really know what to do? What would you do if you had absolutely no hope of either you or your loved ones getting out of here alive? It really takes nerve to answer honestly to that question, and the film, both in its clear and profound screenplay and in its powerful images (the dirt, the violence and the hunger are portrayed as realistically and skillfully as ever), does make you say: "I don't know if I could muster such courage myself." It's quite an achievement for an artist.
And it's quite a tribute to the dead.