Elena begins with a shot of a lone sparrow, soon joined by another, perched on a tree branch outside an apartment window. The well over a minute long, unmoving shot hints at what kind of movie this will be: slow-paced, subtle, quiet and unadorned. For the most part these traits guide the feel of the movie, one which (unhurriedly) examines aspects of human behavior, family relations, and the role of money in the lives of both the wealthy and lower working-class of Russia.
Directed by Andrey Zvyagintsev, Elena takes as its centerpiece two families — disparate in some ways but subtly and importantly alike in others. Elena, a middle-aged woman from a less-than-prosperous background, is married to Vladimir, an older, wealthy, retired man who lives in a luxurious apartment in Moscow. (What his occupation was is never revealed, or even really hinted at.) The two spouses, who met ten years previously when Elena served as Vladimir’s nurse after a bout of appendicitis, sleep in separate bedrooms; and there’s a formality between them that only seldom disappears. It’s clear as day that the two are not on equal footing — she a nurse who has married far above her status. But despite the class discrepancy which colors so much of the relationship, there is a close bond which manages to show itself every so often.
Elena and Vladimir each have an adult child from a previous relationship, neither of which possesses a modicum of responsibility or holds genuinely warm feelings toward the parent. Sergei, Elena’s son, is a lazy, ambitionless father of two kids – one a baby – and the other who is destined to end up in the military unless a way is found to pay for university. It’s only through Elena’s financial help (via her pension) that Sergei is able to support his family at all.
Katya, Vladimir’s daughter, is a self-indulgent party girl who has reaped the benefits of her father’s wealth her entire life. In a conversation initiated by Elena, Katya says of herself – in typical wild child, careless fashion – “I am what I am.” Needless to say, she rarely visits Vladimir and has no interest in a father-daughter relationship.
The dynamics change, however, when Vladimir suffers a heart attack at the gym. Things temporarily return to normal, but when Vladimir suffers another stroke of ill-health and the will he had only recently begun remains unfinished, the situation becomes fraught with tension and uncertainty.
With Vladimir at the center of the plot, director Zvyagintsev is able to explore interesting facets of human behavior. While the exploration hardly yields any surprising findings, it does make for a relatively thoughtful and, on the whole, enjoyable film. But where Zvyagintsev could have done better is less overt symbolism, particularly in the second half. Additionally, a violent scene near the end of the movie is ultimately too unconnected to the rest of the story, which mars and detracts from this otherwise solid film.
Spectatio 