Review of The Island (2007) by Dryorophus — 07 Jul 2011

I think pretty much every generation has had its fair share of folks to declare "they just don't make them like they use to." By and large, this is true. But, look hard enough, and you'll see that some people still do. The Island is one such example. It recalls to mind many of those old boldly artistic Russian films of the years gone by. It has the look, the determination and the strangeness to draw connections between itself and the films of the great Tarkovsky, rightfully so.

The film opens during WWII. Nazi's take a Russian tug, near a small island. Two men hide in pile of dirt, buried. But as the Nazi's open fire on the mound, one jumps up begging for his life. It is spared only because he gives up the other man, and then shoots him rather than accept death. The German's have planted a bomb in the dirt and detonate it as they leave. The next morning we see monks from the island come carry the wounded man away.

The movie then jumps to the 1970s. The cowardly soldier is now a low level monk on the island, named Father Anatoly. He works in the coal shed, shoveling it in the furnace. He also sleeps there, on the dirty hard coal, much to the others dismay. He's an utterly bizarre man to the others, like by some, disliked by others. Mainlanders believe the man has spiritual powers, and can heal the sick and wounded. Some come to ask him to bless their child and heal his leg, others to bless their unborn children so they may have an abortion. He greets them all with sympathy, unwelcome to himself, while also berating them for any marginal hint of selfishness. He roars at one woman who says she can't stay any longer to help her child because she must work.

Whether or not he has any spiritual powers it's difficult to say. One scene suggests no: a woman comes to have a mass done for her husband, believed dead in the war years ago. In a humorous scene, Anatoly introduces himself as someone else, and then goes to speak to Father Anatoly on her behalf, telling her to listen in. He moves around the room speaking to himself, changing his voice, and then goes and tells the woman her husband is not dead but alive with another woman because he abandoned her. Yet still other scenes suggest yes. A boy on crutches is able to walk without them, and a seemingly mad woman returns to sanity after an encounter with Anatoly.

The Island is a spiritual puzzle of a film, wrapped in a cloth of orthodoxy. I would think the more you know about orthodox religion or its themes, the more you'll get from the film. At it's centre is Anatoly's struggles with guilt. It is that guilt that has nearly driven him to the point of insanity. As he puts it at one point, he is a slave to his passions - passion in this sense referring to suffering (i.e. passion of Christ).

The opening scene is one of those scenes that you know is going to come back in someway. Usually in some mocked up cheap attempt at a dramatic punch. The Island takes its time getting back to that point, but when it does it doesn't feel cheap. Instead it feels poignant and profound.

The film was directed by Pavel Lungin with a serious eye for cinematography. The island is a bleak place, with its rocky out crops covered in snow and the still seas which surround it, yet has a profound beauty about it. The camera sits at unexpected angles and captures some incredibly stunning images. The film is in no rush to get where its going, and takes its time to build up an ethereal atmosphere and metaphysical mood. The island itself looks as if it were a place not subject to earthly time.