“Everyone will die, but I will remain” in Criticism Week at the Cannes Film Festival
Before the very end of the 61st Cannes Film Festival, the situation remains unchanged. No generally accepted favorite has emerged, and critical ratings for the films in competition remain low. Speculating now about who will win the Palme d'Or on Sunday night is for bookmakers and gamblers, not critics. In the meantime, the premiere of the film biography of Che Guevara from Steven Soderbergh took place at the Palais des Festivals in great competition (the film is called briefly “Che”, but runs four and a half hours), in the parallel program “Criticism Week” the first screening of a Russian film this year took place in Kanne. This week’s simple slogan - “A breath of fresh air” - suited Valeria Gai Germanika’s film “Everyone will die, but I will stay,” produced by Igor Tolstunov’s company. In a nutshell, this is an obvious success among the Cannes audience, among critics, and in the future among a fairly wide audience - the film will be released in European distribution. And if our cinematography ignores this success, then that’s what this cinematography needs.
In general, it’s surprising how many biased forecasts and reviews I had to listen to about this picture. However, there were objective reasons for skepticism. Last year, in the Kinotavr competition, a documentary film shot by Germanika and carelessly put together was shown, for unknown reasons passed off as a feature film - “The Birthday of the Infanta.” Let's consider this a misunderstanding. Germanika's real debut in feature films has taken place now.
Before this, the director was known among us for her documentary works, one of which, “Girls,” was shown two years ago in Cannes as part of the “All Cinematographies of the World” program. “Everyone Dies, But I’ll Stay” is already being called a live-action version of “Girls,” but that’s not true. Of course, there are similarities: three girlfriends of about 14, all the delights of adolescence, an unimaginable combination of a non-childish, intuitive feeling of the most important things in life with collecting chewing gum candy wrappers... But, firstly, Germanika had the opportunity to work with a professional team of producers for the first time - screenwriters-artists and reach a level that can be conventionally designated as “European quality”. In any case, already on the day of the premiere, two selectors of international European festivals told me that they would invite this film to competition. And secondly, the almost amateur camera of Germanika, who was the cameraman of her first documentary experiments, unexpectedly acquired here its own film language, absolutely adequate to the story being told. The language of long travels, tenacious observation and unsentimental sympathy. In any case, when the camera snatches from the disco half-dark the face of the most timid of the three girls, who is preparing to declare her love to an idiot high school student, somehow it suddenly becomes clear that the person is going, if not to death, then to heroism.
Probably we should also talk about history. At the high school "on the block" they announce a disco, the first in the lives of Katya, Vika and Zhanna - three girlfriends from 9 "b". Katya does not want to study geometry and leaves home, where her parents alternate beatings with drunken and obsessive care. Because of Katya, they are going to cancel the disco, but the holiday will take place - with predictable and not entirely predictable consequences. There will be a couple more betrayals committed with the cruelty typical of the age described, one falling in love, one deflowering, a woman's fight, one alcohol poisoning, the music of Roma the Beast and the final explanation between Katya and her parents - with an unequivocal proposal to go there, there and there.
That's all. And thank God that's all. The fear that the young author will follow the example of his older comrades and end up brutally killing someone or at least raping someone never goes away. But no, everything ends quite peacefully. Contrary to the name, no one dies. Ordinary everyday life and holidays of the Moscow outskirts, an ordinary school, ordinary girls. But a storm in a teacup does not cease to be a storm because of its modest scale.
The case of Germanika perfectly illustrates one of the main criteria for Cannes selection. And indirectly answers the eternal question of why Russian cinema is/is not invited to Europe. The fact is that Cannes doesn’t just select the best films (they don’t always turn out to be really good, but that’s not Cannes’ problem anymore). He selects films that are unique to one degree or another, showing something that cannot be seen anywhere else. Some people mistakenly explain this as a fashion for exoticism, but that’s not the point. Simply put, if you, as a director, made a film that no one but you could make, consider yourself already on the Croisette. If you are trying to “follow recipes” and “develop a strategy for success,” sit at the MIFF and keep your head down.
Some recent examples from the current program. If you and only you can make friends on equal terms with the greatest football player of our time and tell about him what no one else knows, you will be in Cannes, like Emir Kusturica with “Maradona”. If you and only you can honestly and unashamedly film sex between people over 70, you will be in Cannes, like Andreas Dresen with 7th Heaven. If you and only you know how to make teenagers behave in front of the camera the way they behave among themselves, and not in the presence of adults, you will be in Cannes, like Valeria Gai Germanika.
And what made a greater contribution to this skill - the year of birth of the director (1984) or extraordinary talent - Germanika's second film will certainly show. But nothing can cancel the success of the first.