This was a touching and a subtle film. Made a few years before the end of the Soviet Union and set at the cresting height of Stalin's power (and, as the title suggests, just before the looming World War), it manages the trick of being at the same time both nostalgic for a bygone time and the youths who lives through it, but also unflinching about the horrors that the political environment caused people to commit against each other.
I don't know for sure and I haven't read the story that was the basis for the film, but I get the strong feeling that it was at least semi- autobiographical on the part of the author, and everyone involved in the film does a strong job of communicating his mixed feelings of affection and horror for that time.
The photography alternates between sepia monochrome (usually at school) and color (at home or out in nature), and it's the first time I've seen this trick used in a way that works not only well but also subtly -- it underscores in an understated way the themes that the film raises of humanity, freedom, and choice versus duty to the state.
While it raises these themes, it scrupulously manages to avoid being didactic about them. We are allowed to draw our own conclusions on what the characters discuss, which is pointedly what they themselves are not allowed to do. Touchingly, it becomes clear that those who are drawn in to acting so in humanly do so because the ideals of the revolution that they fought for are so dear to them that they cannot bear to imagine it betrayed. In one touching moment we are reminded that it was Lenin himself who warned against a black-and-white, right-or-wrong definition of what the truth is, and it painfully obvious that that is not at all the philosophy that has been enacted in the state that pays him service.
I don't know for sure and I haven't read the story that was the basis for the film, but I get the strong feeling that it was at least semi- autobiographical on the part of the author, and everyone involved in the film does a strong job of communicating his mixed feelings of affection and horror for that time.
The photography alternates between sepia monochrome (usually at school) and color (at home or out in nature), and it's the first time I've seen this trick used in a way that works not only well but also subtly -- it underscores in an understated way the themes that the film raises of humanity, freedom, and choice versus duty to the state.
While it raises these themes, it scrupulously manages to avoid being didactic about them. We are allowed to draw our own conclusions on what the characters discuss, which is pointedly what they themselves are not allowed to do. Touchingly, it becomes clear that those who are drawn in to acting so in humanly do so because the ideals of the revolution that they fought for are so dear to them that they cannot bear to imagine it betrayed. In one touching moment we are reminded that it was Lenin himself who warned against a black-and-white, right-or-wrong definition of what the truth is, and it painfully obvious that that is not at all the philosophy that has been enacted in the state that pays him service.