I chose this film for perusal at this year’s Melbourne International Film Festival simply because I had heard the (Venice Film Festival award-winning) cinematography was well worth the price of admission on its own. Call it seeking out inspiration for an upcoming filmic project. In this regard, I was not disappointed. Neither, did Paper Soldier fail to live up to the warning I had received before the screening, “EXPECT TARKOVSKY!”

For those not in the know regarding Soviet cinema, Andrei Tarkovsky can best be described through his constant and spectacular use of long, long tracking shots, of the most balletic nature, mostly devoid of dialogue. Paper Soldier however, is not directed by Tarkovsky, but rather Aleksei German. It’s often billed as the Russian Right Stuff (do yourself a favour if you haven’t checked out that particularly epic Tom Wolfe adaptation and devour it, please), but Paper Soldier is less bravado and gung-ho than balletic, thoughtful and grey. Really, where the similarities start and end is the fact that both films explore the space race between the two superpowers…and it seems fitting that both films seem to exemplify their respective schools of cinema; gung ho, epic Hollywood, and a rather more introspectively self-aware Soviet cinema. It’s certainly an unlikely way of telling the story of the Russian side of the space race – the entire period of history lends itself to all the fanfare and rousing chorus of a blockbuster. Cosmonaut training is barely touched on, in fact. Rather, the film fixates itself on the chain-smoking doctors of the mission.

It’s 1961, and Dr. Daniel Pokrovsky (Merab Ninidze, with just the right amount of broodishly dark good looks) is a doctor rather high up in the chain of those working to send a man into space safely. He’s haunted by the memory and legacy of his surgeon father, and by his increasing inner conflict regarding the human risk of the mission he’s participating in. He’s married to Nina (Chulpan Khamatova), a fellow doctor in Moscow, with whom he might want to divorce, or have a child with. He’s also involved with the young and clingy Vera, (Anastasya Sheveleva) a girl from the flats of Kazakhstan where the Cosmodome resides. They go to parties, get drunk, smoke a lot, talk amongst themselves and over each other. While that may sound lively however, one looking for a riveting character study and constant moments of life and excitement can rethink their gameplan very quickly. The three main protagonists are interesting yes, but aren’t really the main concern of the film. It’s rather difficult to connect to them until the last third of the film, and the moments of human interaction and emotion are separated by long periods of those long takes I mentioned earlier.

It does take Paper Soldier a leisurely long while for the plot and emotional depth to pick up steam, but it is worth it I assure you, for those who are as enraptured as I was with the exquisite cinematography. Truly, it is a wonder to behold. All greys and blacks of the Kazakhstan landscape, interrupted by fires, or a crying mistress, or astronauts remarkably casual before their first flight. A man rides a bike towards the death that had been looming over the entire film, giving it a sense of dread. The movements of the characters are almost balletic within the frame, moving in and out of the camera’s eye, with each shot a compositional triumph. It makes one wonder how much of the film was rehearsed and choreographed to oblivion and back. This meandering of the seemingly minimal plot (I say that because it’s a time remembered with a significant amount of pride in Russia to my knowledge) combined with the flats of Kazakhstan, the film often has a dream-like quality.

What’s my verdict? I got a giant kick out of the film, although I’m fully aware that I didn’t get half as many of the cultural references that were in the film. There’s occasional moments of a lovely kind of humour, and like I’ve just described, the cinematography certainly is an inspiration, especially for someone about to head into production as Director of Photography of a short film. This isn’t for the easily bored though, or those who need constant explanations of the actions of the characters and the trajectory of the plot. There’s certainly a lot to be had from Paper Soldier.

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