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Lilya 4-Ever

  
Lilya 4-Ever

***1/2

Cinema Reviews - Week of July 4, 2003

Rated on a 4-star scale. Certificate 18. Sweden. 109 minutes. Written and directed by Lukas Moodysson. Starring Oksana Akinshina, Artyom Bogucharsky, Lyubov Agapova, Liliya Shinkaryova, Elina Benenson, Pavel Ponomaryov, Tomas Neumann, Anastasiya Bedredinova, Tõnu Kark.


I don't know how many movies we've seen about Eastern European prostitutes -- probably not that many, to be fair -- but it feels like we've all got pretty clear pictures of their lives. Every time I see some shaky camcorder footage from a TV news exposé, or a blurry picture blown up to fill the front of a Sunday newspaper supplement, the faces of these girls somehow describe the lives around them. There's a sense of someone without memory or a regular understanding of time and space, as if entire days are hazy fogs of being passed around grubby hands. Do you notice the way the girls in those pictures stand, as if they wouldn't know where to move or look unless someone took hold of their arms or signalled their attention in words?

"Lilya 4-Ever" is a heartbreaking movie from the point of view of a sixteen-year old Russian girl who ends up in that situation. It captures the feeling of life happening to someone, misfortune spitting down until it seems like an enslaving force. The opening sequence lets us know that nothing is going to turn out well. The girl runs around city streets, destitute, battered, looking as hellish as the heavy metal on the soundtrack sounds. Cut to three months earlier, before the storm began, and impending tragedy hangs over everything.

Because the beginning has essentially told us that every single promise will be broken, the film is full of quiet anger -- not just for the strangers who do not care, but at people who owe love and don't follow through. Lilya's mother goes off to America and says she'll send for her later; it isn't true. Her aunt puts up a half-hearted act of offering help, but is actually trying to shuffle the girl out of the way, so she can live her own life, alone, fat and selfish. She says she can't afford to pay the rent on the girl's old flat, and sends her to a hovel where the bath has long gone brown. Then the aunt moves into the old flat, and doesn't even offer the spare room.

There is a clingy little boy, who turns out to be Lilya's only real friend. Her girl pal from school whores herself out to a guy in a club, and tells her dad and the neighbourhood boys that Lilya did it. One of those smarmy charmers who claims to be a 'nice guy' takes her confidence, and offers her a chance of a better life. There's an ominous moment when he gives her a fake passport, and says it's because they might run into some trouble when they leave the country. And then it's a journey to a desolate room, where a stranger keeps Lilya locked up until they have to do the daily rounds. There's no TV, no outside contact, nothing -- surely not every man in the city wants to grub himself all over a lifeless young girl, but when you don't see anything else all day, it sure can't feel that way.

Lilya is played by Oksana Akinshina, who is pretty, blonde and tender -- she's got a fragile, exploitable kind of attractiveness going on, which makes us yearn for her protection while making her a convincing candidate for the kind of young woman who might go through this sort of experience. She seems tough enough to survive, and there's a hint of glory in a couple of late scenes where she talks back to her tormentors by plainly and distantly laying out her human rights -- but she's no superhero, and by the end, her view of the world has become so skewed that despair seems like a form of rebellion.

Maybe the movie sounds like a drab and worthy slog through misery, but it's alive, it feels true, and it got to me. It's full of gaudy colour and knockoff shell suits, cheap alcohol from the corner shop and even cheaper European dance music -- hardly a few of my favourite things, but the kind of clutter that I, and probably a lot of people at or around my age, can recognise from teenage years.

The director is Lukas Moodysson, a 34-year old who has been hailed, by some, as the current shining light of Swedish cinema. I get a hunch that he knows the specific textures of my generation's teen experiences better than anyone else making movies right now. Whether he's really down with the kids, or faking it, doesn't really matter; he taps into the fidgety, uncomfortable feeling of those times, not just emotionally, but right down to the décor and the soundtrack. In "Show Me Love" (1998), he used the atmosphere to bring a sense of real pain to a simple comic story of forbidden high school love. In "Lilya 4-Ever", he uses it to summon all the same teenage anxieties, and take them somewhere else, to remind us that for some kids, life doesn't come and whisk them away into the new challenges of adulthood, but lets their inexperience get them into trouble that nobody should have to face. This movie has all the same manipulations that a grim social realist would use for the same subject, but even with its cheapo camera style, it doesn't feel like grim social realism. It's a direct experience, rather than just a message.

COPYRIGHT© 2003 Ian Waldron-Mantgani


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