Let's be realistic.

Dreadfully Boring

The film never slows down or bores, plunging from one harrowing sequence to the next.

This is ultimately a movie about the very bad things that can happen when we don't address our unease, when we just try to brush it off, whether that's to fit in or to preserve our self-image.

Iosif Kheifits and Lenfilm did an excellent job filming this adaptation of Anton Chekhov's timeless novella. To start with an intangible, this film does what very few adaptations really do, and seems really to capture the feel of the original story of unachievable love -- and to be as ethereally moving. It does it, at least in part, with honesty, simplicity, and great are and attention to detail (in everything from the composition of even the briefest shots, to the old pre-Revolutionary Russian spelling on every visible sign). That simplicity might be its greatest asset, as the story is allowed to take its time to develop, atmosphere and the communication of the characters's emotions taking precedence over a complicated plot or busy action. Both lead actors deserve a lot of commendation, especially Aleksey Batalov, with just the right amount of expressiveness behind his reserve, and exuding a melancholy and desire that perfectly match the tenor of the piece. In all, with its delicate recreation of Chekhov's tone, rich simplicity, and resistance to the temptation to add beyond its material, I have to think of it as one of the best adaptations I have seen.

The first classic trait of the film which captures the senses, is the outstanding cinematography - as one viewer notes, in the best traditions of silent film. Indeed, too much is left unspoken by the characters. Everything's a delicate and delightful play of fine sensations - a feast for the intelligent viewer whose thread through the labyrinth of characters' feelings is often a glimpse, a twitch, and a seemingly inconsequent line in Chekhov's text. A great burden lies on the shoulder's of the two main actors, Batalov and Savina. While the former does a brilliant job, the latter, in my opinion, is classes underneath. She is fit to play a typical Soviet-era character, not Chekhov's.

In my opinion, there are at least two kinds of melancholia. One has to do with a low level of passion and few, muddled emotions. Melancholia could, however, also be about truly passionate emotions of sadness and longing. There is a huge difference between the two, and they often seem to be confused. This movie is definitely about the passionate sadness and longing - at least it communicates some of the most outrageously passionate longing I've ever witnessed on film. Whoever thought "fast" automatically means "more passionate" was apparently dead wrong. There's also something realistic and very human about the characters. If you've lived for a while you've met people like these, and you may yourself have experienced (or even dreamt) similar situations. I felt immense pity for the characters, in my opinion a great achievement for any movie. Even if it's a film with "love" playing an important part, I felt it was innovative - this is simply unique stuff. I'll not give away too much of the story - go see this outstanding movie for yourself!

They don't make films like this any more. In film you either make it in the best time honoured classical tradition: logical sequence, irony, exquisite painstaking set-ups with perfect lighting, costumes, extras, everything pleasing to the eye and the heart and you find others watching it with a smile on their faces; or you make it so fast, jump edits, ramping, so wild that only you know the rules. Well you can do it the Clint Eastwood way which is the perfectly oiled machine: film them during the rehearsal. He really belongs to the classical genre. The problem with the second way is that you can't sit easily through two hours of a movie made like that. A pop video of two minutes fine, otherwise you emerge from the cinema with your brain fried and the stupid expression you get after sitting through three hours of watching ad commercial festivals. I've done it many times, and it's unnatural, and not good for you. THE LADY WITH THE LITTLE DOG is a perfect little story, superbly acted, observed, costumed, directed, lit, everything. A masterpiece of black and white. It cannot be faulted in any way. It must have taken ages to do the set-ups, something no one can afford to do these days; but then with the state paying the salaries, who was counting? So it was made during the Soviet era: but what is perfect, is perfect, for all time.