In war as in war. Very unusual movie. Unusual at least because it belongs to the pen of the Hungarian director. Do we often experience such a sight? Hollywood standards are now in honor. And there are constant "rehashes" of early works. Stamped plots, the same techniques, smoothness for the viewer's eye in standardization. Isn't it? That is why this work has attracted attention. And IMDb rating: 7.10 served as an additional catalyst - it is necessary to join, it is worth expanding the horizons, for general development - it will not hurt. I didn't regret it. It was a pleasure to watch.
There is a minimum of gloss here. There are no characters here. The cast is completely unknown. And faith in what is happening only grows stronger. Almost a documentary clip in front of my eyes. Black and white in the mud of war. The only color that shades the grayness of buden, overcoats, surrounding reality, red. Blood color. And this blood is shown by the author without a fake colorful patch. The reality is beyond measure. A knife entering the body with the blade of a bayonet rifle and swelled eyes of misunderstanding that occurs from the convulsive pain tearing the flesh. It's so real. It's so palpable. And it's not once. Time after time. Over and over again. War is like war. And people here are slaughtered almost like cattle. In the battle of confrontation or the removal of the sentry in the carelessness of the moment, anticipating who whom, eyes in the eyes. And sighing. And the horror of both faces.
The First World War was chosen for the plot. A small society, a demonstration of the palette.
Reconnaissance sent behind enemy lines. Five Austro-Hungarian soldiers are looking for an Italian communications hub behind the front line. Sloping mountainous slopes, the age-old needles of skyrocketing pillars silently gazes at people sneaking through the thieves. Quietly treading, looking around, ready at any moment to take up the fight, trying not to be discovered they are deeper and deeper behind enemy lines. Stop, sleep and talk at the campfire of these tired adult men. Family, abandoned house, confused happiness. Should I go back? How much more have they been allowed to die? Day? A week? How about one minute? When and where will death come from? And it is these reflections that the creator of the tape squanders before the audience. And the faces of youth imprint in the posthumous moments.
"Grey Messengers" by the play of the director's words. Sent reconnaissance in the grayness of state cloth and gray pigeons in the early twentieth century used as messengers. Postmen. In the same plane of the demonstration. And some and others on the premises of the “higher forces”. Both have the same mission. And the end is almost the same. Foregone. The neck can be broken at any time. This is what happens here in one of the scenes. That is how Istvan Kovac sees the predetermined fate of the “children of war”. It doesn't matter if it's a pigeon or a person. The catharsis scene is the purification scene. Young men, almost a boy. The youngest and purest soul, full of naivety, a girl kissed on the forehead, but already knew the taste of blood, her stickiness in her hands felt. Yes, in these hands, it is in these and comes the last note on the military denouement.
Pay attention to this movie. A little more than one hour of timekeeping, and the completeness of the plot, beyond. Reliable simplicity. No acting. No stunts still life.
Adult audience and hardly youth for aesthetic content.
7 out of 10