Not to give, not to take. Alas, alas, alas. I must state with full responsibility that it seems that in Soviet times a tirade of censure was preceded, without giving hope for any positive solution to the issue. Yes, this film, alas, alas, alas, to put it mildly, did not impress. I did not believe the suffering of girls, which seemed too dramatic for me. I did not believe the dialogues, which give written language, but not ordinary human speech. It seemed incomprehensible game actors trying to play a map of the tragedy with the living situation. And so on and so forth. Falsehood, falsehood, falsehood.
During a ship fire, a woman loses a loved one. Dead. Probably dead. Making inquiries about the lists of survivors does not give encouraging results. Time partly heals wounds and youth in marriage. Years pass and the dead are resurrected. That's the plot.
What's a little confusing? She (Natasha) is looking for a loved one, but her beloved (Matvey) is not. He does not call his parents, he does not call them. Villages yard by yard, those near the river, do not bypass. A geologist. God himself, as they say, commanded him. On the way, on the way! Though I haven't wasted my feelings. In the drawings, as in the heart, she is alone. I never married again. Single-minded. The head was not injured during the tragedy. It was burned. That's all. The author's problem. Or maybe a disparaging blunder? Original. Set the pace for everything?
Maybe I missed something?
The actors who received the main roles in the film, in my opinion, are absolutely faceless. Bodies exist and spirits are absent. There are emotions, but there are no feelings behind them. Walk “on stage”, play roles, move from plot to plot and all useless. No paint. As the head of the company says in this tape, “You have been going to work for several years, but you only serve hours here.” Pardon me, but it's not a job, it's a day job. This is the main trio of characters. No face? I suppose so. Only Irina Rozanova barely raises her head above the calm mess.
Who was surprised and who was surprised were the actors. Tandem Timofey Spivak by Irina Dymchenko somewhat refreshed the stagnant mud of this hot swamp. All done. They gave it away. And emotions. And characters. And the creed of life. Several short scenes - in the festive feast, in the twilight of a night house-dacha, on the embankment of the Moscow River. That's a good color. Maybe the second or third director of the film here took his soul away, investing it to the fullest. And the main one is a hack. Barking. Questions, questions.
I looked and thought, finish quickly. Not a thought. Not a single surprise. Not aesthetic or moral satisfaction. Podenshchina. It's a lot of stuff.
5 out of 10