Assa Reviews

A refreshing, energetic, and innovative example of glasnost-era Soviet filmmaking, ASSA would have been shelved for ages had it been made in earlier years. Set in Yalta in 1980, the film's plot revolves around some shady gangster dealings put into motion by the arrival, at a Black Sea resort, of Govorukhin, a middle-aged swindler and murderer. Having engineered the theft of a priceless violin, he turns for assistance to a former criminal (a happily married midget turned stage performer). Accompanying Govorukhin is Drubich, his lovely mistress of three years. She, however, has just met Bugayev, an irrepressible singer and composer for a punk-rock band. She gets on famously with her new friend but warns him that she is deeply in love with Govorukhin. The more Bugayev persists, the more enmeshed he becomes in Govorukhin's underworld dealings, until Govorukhin gives the rebellious youngster an ultimatum: leave town for a few weeks or else. Bugayev responds matter-of-factly that Yalta is his town and that he has no desire to leave. When Bugayev isn't fighting off his gangster rival, he is subjected to oppressive treatment by the police, who have a habit of hauling him in because he wears an earring--crafted from a laminated photo-booth picture of him and Drubich. Eventually, and quite unexpectedly, Bugayev is "taken for a ride" by Govorukhin and his thugs, who brutally stab the youngster to death in the back seat of the car. When Drubich learns of this, she turns on her lover, guns him down, and is hauled off by the authorities. The story doesn't end there, however; there are others like Bugayev, who also have rock-'n'-roll bands. They demand to be heard and, as another young singer yells at the film's end, "want things to change." It is not so much its plot that makes ASSA so remarkable as its extraordinary sensibility. Director Solovyov's love of the cinema and, more poignantly, his love of life are immediately clear. Unlike so many other films, ASSA appears not as mere images projected on a screen but as an explosion of sounds and images that are thrown into the viewer's lap. From its very opening (a punk band rehearsing a song, the drummer pounding away on his snare drum) one can see that ASSA is not your typical film--especially not your typical Soviet film. Although the running time is 150 minutes, ASSA never allows its audience to become complacent with the film's style. Even after two hours, the viewer is still surprised and shocked by the moves being made by director Solovyov. One of his more daring choices is his unconventional presentation of dream sequences. In the first of these, as Bugayev lies down on his bed, the phrase "Bananan's First Dream" appears across the screen. What follows is a series of abstract images created by painting on the film itself. Splashes and streaks of red, yellow, green, and blue dance across the screen before the dream ends and we return to Bugayev's bed. Another of his dreams is photographed in fast motion, on black-and-white super-8mm film. And whenever Govorukhin picks up the history book he is reading, the scene shifts from 1980 Yalta to 1801 St. Petersburg, where a plot to assassinate the czar is being hatched. Twice in the film Solovyov further interrupts events by flashing the directive "*See footnote" on the screen; and after a few minutes, a title card appears that is, in effect, a footnote page defining some unfamiliar vocabulary, such as Daddio and knocked-up. All of these techniques might seem to be silly film school exercises, but ASSA is more than an exercise in cinematic style--it is a cry for change, and as such its form reflects perfectly its content. What makes ASSA even more special are the outstanding performances by all involved. Drubich (a real-life physician) is a natural beauty whose screen presence makes her a joy to watch. Moreover, her on-screen chemistry with both Govorukhin and Bugayev is electric. Her scenes with Bugayev have a wonderful spontaneity (their moments of playfulness and laughter never appear to be anything less then genuine), and those with Govorukhin are honest, affectionate, and (above all) emotionally complex. ASSA, which was screened at US festivals, includes the music of Aquarium, Kino, Bravo, and Soyuz Compositorov (the Union of Composers)--all of whom perform the songs of popular Soviet musician Grebenschikov. (In Russian; English subtitles.) (Violence, adult situations.)