You can be young. The moment when a person hears the word “cannot” for the first time in his life will probably not remain in his memory. But, most likely, for the first time, a person will hear the word “cannot” from people who love him immensely from the moment of his first breath. What really meant “no” can be heard after many years. Somewhere it might sound, “Be careful, it’s dangerous for you.” Somewhere, it’s dangerous for other people. But, as long as this context is not heard, any “no” will be perceived as a foreign resistance obstacle. And what is behind the obstacle always looks even more attractive, and a person will necessarily look for a way to get around the obstacle. Youth, the time when authoritative “cannot” no longer exist, becomes the period of the most active search. Testing for the strength and erected prohibitions, and oneself, it seems, one can not think about what could be the cause of prohibitions, as well as the consequences of their violation. When thoughts about the consequences do not arise, there is no thought about the danger of actions, neither for oneself nor for other people. Living for yourself this seething, rapid and dazzlingly bright period, a person can really feel that you can do absolutely any thing. And to others, his actions can look strange, and sometimes even dangerous.
Alexander Elkan’s film “Hey, Bro!” shows a segment of life in which actions do not seem to have dangerous consequences. The short opening scene snatches a piece from the turbulent nightlife of the main characters, showing in front of the credit with the name of the passage of one of them, Cyril, literally on the edge: the railings of the bridge. In the future, the guy will climb on these railings more than once, as he will reach a border state in which there will not be much left to a breakdown that threatens dangerous consequences. The consequences themselves, however, will not reach: no matter how provocative the actions were, and no matter how close the line was, it turns out to have time to move away from it, taking a step into a safe zone. After the title credit, the viewer sees another character, Mark, in the light of day. While he, shuddering and spitting on the sidewalk, waiting for the green light at the traffic light, an ambulance rushes past with the sharp sound of sirens. Unlike the camera, which steered the car with its motion, Mark's eyes don't even turn towards it. A second later, he himself will rush past passers-by on a skateboard, which is associated with most of his daytime and life in general. The rest of the life of the guys, which the viewer will see, will be captured by the same short, successive moments: dancing in nightclubs with incredible physical intimacy, pouring in huge quantities of alcohol, aggressive rap from the speakers at full volume ... All this remains with the characters constantly, while they run from place to place, constantly sounds in their conversations with each other and is visible in their surroundings. What else is for guys components of life, the viewer will also be able to guess from conversations. One thing will become absolutely obvious: the guys do not try to find any guidelines for themselves, do not think about what will happen next or what happened before this moment. Even their relationship with each other seems to lack a solid foundation. “I don’t even know you for a month,” Kirill will tell Mark, having had a drink beforehand to have everything. The phrase “We should have met you” sounds right away. There is a connection between the characters, which is revealed through their time. The manifestation of this connection are provocations aimed at others and at each other. At the top of the bridge, Kirill will ask Mark, “Can you jump?” And then he says, “I know you can.”
The film does not lead an even narrative, does not tell the viewer the built story. Carefully snatched from the lives of the guys moments more like a clip with a built-in stretched backstage. Many shots are really built with a clip aesthetic. At the same time, it is sometimes hard to believe that they were caught by a camera from life, and not staged on purpose: they are so beautiful, so accurately convey the state of the captured moment. The camera itself is not static, it, like the heroes, is in constant motion, then catching up with them, then freezing almost at the very face. Close-ups, of which there are really a lot in the film, seem to attract the viewer, demonstrating undimmed emotions. This is the accuracy of state transfer: at such moments, the characters are revealed as brightly as possible. Feelings of clip-likeness of what is happening add and editing, and loud, practically participating in the action music.
Close to the viewer, the footage really allows you to immerse yourself in the narrative of the film built with short moments sewn together. At the rapid pace of changing scenes, you can sometimes almost forget that the screen is just a fragment from life, or rather, from one of its faces. This transferred to the screen fragment of unrestrained, boiling and aggressive youth, the film does not give any assessment, and certainly does not try to guess what will happen next. So are the heroes themselves. “I’m young, I can, I even need to have fun and do what I want to do,” Kirill said in a short street talk. “What happens next?” asks the man, who looks twice as old as the guy, but seems no more sober than he is. The answer will be standard and completely empty: “I will be serious, I will live from paycheck to paycheck.” The viewer observes this conversation from a distance of half a meter. And being so close to events, you can try to give them your own assessment.
During youth life fills up a huge amount of energy. Almost anything can be done with this energy. “We can only create a creation overnight, we don’t have to plan anything,” Kirill said one night. At the same moment, he will say of Mark, “If you direct him, if you give him an incentive, if you give him an initiative, he will start doing....” And then you start dancing again.
"Where's the club, Kirill?" asks Mark. - "That's right there!" - "Give me a beer then."
Indeed, in his youth, when all the authoritative “cannot” be removed, a person already decides what to do. But every action has consequences. If you do not look ahead, the consequences may not be visible at first, but after a while they will definitely make themselves felt. The impact of your own tests on strength on yourself and others can be evaluated. Then, perhaps, the rejected “cannot” will pass into the conscious “not necessary”. Or not. However, there is a fact that is certainly relevant to any living person: after each night, the morning eventually comes.