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Thread: “Dovlatov” (2018) directed by Aleksei German, about a week in the life of struggling novelist Sergei Dovlatov during a week in the USSR right before his friend Joseph Brodsky emigrates to the US, is currently my favorite film of 2018 and currently available on Netflix
I first came across this film from an article written in the @NewYorker The magazine is still good for their arts section and I wouldn’t have discovered this film if it weren’t for their review. My original tweet: https://twitter.com/matthewrite/status/1066871705568563201?s=21
Of course that article is a little biased because Sergei Dovlatov himself was a real novelist who struggled to get his work published in the USSR and was a contemporary of Brodsky, himself an eventual Nobel Prize recipient.
Dovlatov eventually followed Brodsky’s lead and immigrated to the US. A lot of his work was published in...The New Yorker. But this is also their credit.
The IRL Dovlatov and Brodsky
The IRL Dovlatov and Brodsky
And as they appear in the film (played respectively by Serbian actor Milan Maric and Artur Beschastny)
Going in to this film, I knew little about Sergei Dovlatov (and honestly still know little). According to the New Yorker article he wasn’t as much a politically “dissident” writer as much as one who wanted to write honestly. Itself a struggle.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sergei_Dovlatov?wprov=sfti1
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sergei_Dovlatov?wprov=sfti1
According to his Wikipedia page he was more an admirer of the style of Chekhov rather than the moralist style of Dostoevsky or Tolstoy. They’re all great writers and Chekhov is one that stylistically has had the strongest influence on me.
"One can revere Tolstoy's mind. Delight in Pushkin's finesse. Appreciate the spiritual quest of Dostoyevsky. Gogol's humor. And so on. Yet Chekhov is the only one I would want to resemble."—Sergei Dovlatov
But this film covers Dovlatov’s life as he interacts with artists in the underground Soviet scene who are either exiled from or struggling to work within the Soviet system.
The film is composed of wide shots and few cutaways as if to emphasize the collective creative struggle
The film is composed of wide shots and few cutaways as if to emphasize the collective creative struggle
One friend, a painter (Played by a very charismatic Danila Kozlovsky), works as a “fartsovshchik”, one who sells goods on the black market (these people eventually morphed in to Russian mafia). He even uses his trade to help grow in craft by trading caviar for album on Rothko.
I won’t give away fate of the characters but just say the atmosphere along with its muted monochrome photography is permeated with despair and ultimately death.
Yet Dovlatov is emotionally detached from it all (a survival mechanism?). His stare remains almost unchanged
Yet Dovlatov is emotionally detached from it all (a survival mechanism?). His stare remains almost unchanged
And when other writers and artists complain he refuses to be brought down. With replies like: “Don’t complain. Talent and success are perpendicular to each other”
Or this exchange:
“Our young artists are great...Too bad they’ll be devoured”
“Boss’ devour everyone. They did in the Tsar’s time, they still do.”
“Our young artists are great...Too bad they’ll be devoured”
“Boss’ devour everyone. They did in the Tsar’s time, they still do.”
The black market is key factor in everyone’s lives. Some are Trying to get items we take for granted like washing machines, motor bikes and even just dolls.
Dovlatov also uses it to get banned literature of Nabokov and Solzhenitsyn
Dovlatov also uses it to get banned literature of Nabokov and Solzhenitsyn
But the repressive atmosphere starts to wear on the author has he tries to get in the writers union and tries to write an article for a newspaper (ironically about a shoot featuring the great and dead Russian authors)
And of course he has a novel in the works he’s struggling to finish. Those in the establishment advise him to write something apolitical and even ahistorical (in regards to Russia). He strongly considers giving up magazine writing: “There are more honest ways to make money”
Lines of dialogue such as the following speak directly to my heart:
“They keep asking he wrote a story ‘a bright and positive one’”
And...
“Literature can’t be positive or negative. It’s either there or it isn’t “
“They keep asking he wrote a story ‘a bright and positive one’”
And...
“Literature can’t be positive or negative. It’s either there or it isn’t “
Some bureaucrat asks him to write a novel about Greek history. A bureaucrat who abused the system to enrich himself with gifts (like a nice car). One of the bureaucrats escorts says “write a detective or something about heroes. You look so manly.”
He tells them to “fuck off”
He tells them to “fuck off”
As one ex-fling of his, a working actress says of him: “You know how much courage it takes to be nobody and still be yourself?”
Which may be the question of the film and about artistic integrity in general...
Which may be the question of the film and about artistic integrity in general...
But the arrest, suicides and overall bureaucratic short sightedness result in reflective laments. One visual metaphor is this haunting shot in the courtyard of a publication where all the works and toil denied publication sit discarded
“I used to think if I’d written a novel I’d unite the whole world. What if I wasn’t for fighting but for peeping in to the time’s keyhole? To see myself, the world around me, people around me, not writing novels. Not stand on a rostrum, just...Sometimes I just want to disappear.”
“I thought our books weren’t published and our paintings banned only because things we were talking about didn’t exist. I mean, it did in real life, but the authorities pretended it didn’t exist.”
But Brodsky tells him before he leaves that their struggle isn’t unique to history:
“Van Gogh died in misery. What does it matter if they publish you in your home country? It’s all just...tribulations.”
“Van Gogh died in misery. What does it matter if they publish you in your home country? It’s all just...tribulations.”
A final lament: “I don’t believe I’ll ever get published. What’s the point then? I’m not doing it for money or other vulgarities. I just can’t help it. It’s just me. A part of me. When you grovel, you lose something inside you, and one day it will just disappear.”
This reminds of Andrei Tarkovsky (a more successful artist in same era who still had struggles to get work accomplished): “Poets must stir souls, not nurture idolaters”
That is the artistic challenge that isn’t unique to any culture or economic system (though it was certainly more challenging under communism): The struggle to produce art, stir souls, that sometimes (a lot of the time) has minimal commercial returns.
And that’s life.
And that’s life.
The key is to survive. To keep pushing forward while maintaining your soul. NO SMALL FEAT!
But Dovlatov’s wife (who hebwas in the midst of a separation) tells him: “it won’t be easy but you’ll find strength. You’ll find strength. We will stand by you. There will be books. Everything will be fine.”
Spoiler alert: They don’t get divorced. And when he goes to the states, his wife and daughter come with him.
It ends with The author riding on top of a car (on the poster) and trying to enjoy moments with friends: “This week was over with its big trouble and small joys....
“I was sitting on that car roof, thinking that we did exist after all, with our worn out coats and leaky shoes, drinking, constantly arguing, poor and sometimes talented. We were, and would be, in spite of everything, in spite of all problems...
”Also, I was thinking that the only honest path was the path of mistakes, disappointments and hopes.”
I can’t say it any better. FIN
I can’t say it any better. FIN
Addendum: Sergei Dovlatov eventually became “one of the most popular Russian writers of the late 20th century.” (According to Wikipedia)
