Lilya 4-ever (2002)

It is in our nature as political animals to want to attribute human traits to nations, a way to symbolically capture the spirit of their peoples and help us define the character of something too large and messy for neat categorization.

The United States is, of course, the drunk, horny frat boy of the globe. Selfish and belligerent, but really starting to feel the hangover from his excesses.

The Chinese? The patient, abused servant, with a recently deceased master, who now holds the keys to the manor.

And Mother Russia - the ugly, battered old matriarch, ravaged from years of abuse and neglect, simply wanting to be left alone to die peacefully in the corner of her dilapidated mansion.

In cinematic terms, America is Daniel Plainview from the final scene of There Will Be Blood.

China is Charlie from Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory.

And Russia; the beaten, impoverished whore from Lilya 4-ever.

So, when we are introduced to our desperate, bruised, fleeing protagonist in the opening frames of Lilya 4-ever it is to a cacophonic wall of growling, German industrial metal from Rammstein. As we cut to the first scene of exposition, to an unbearably drab and ugly landscape of Eastern European tenement/apartment buildings, a subtitle pops up revealing, "somewhere that once was the Soviet Union".

Not exactly a fairy tale setting. As a matter of fact, it is Estonia.

And you just know that none of this is going to turn out well.

And right you are because Lilya 4-ever, Swedish filmmaker Lukas Moodysson’s third feature (he is the heir apparent to the Bergman throne), is more of a sadistic dare than it is a movie. Lilya’s character arc begins at a nadir and subsequently falls off the chart of despair.

She is a sixteen-year-old spirited youth whose interests primarily entail hanging out with her friend, bumming smokes, huffing the occasional tube of glue, drinking vodka, mouthing off to her elders, underachieving at school and dreaming of a way out of her numbingly boring, grotty, slate-skied Estonian existence.

Her mother has taken a lover who promises to bring them to the States. Problem is, the mother has no real intention of including her daughter (Oksana Akinshina) in the move. In what can only be described as a need for better Estonian child welfare policy, she is left to fend for herself when mother and lover book for the U.S.A.

Her aunt usurps the family apartment (it’s a cozy one by former Soviet standards) and banishes the girl to a filthy rat hole of a room where an elderly tenant has just died. He lovingly left a stool in the toilet for her as well. She is cold, hungry, parentless and destitute. Then, in true Russian fashion, things take a turn for the worse.

At times like these I am always reminded of a line from Schindler’s List. One of the Jewish women steps off the inhuman cattle car to Auschwitz and naively utters something like, “Well, at least the worst is over. What else can they possibly do to us?”

Ah, Europe. Ah, joy!

Lilya is, of course, channeled in the direction of prostitution in order to feed herself. It’s quite repulsive to her (we see the sex from her angle with the panting, grunting faces of lecherous men poised above her) but she seems proud to finally have money to buy junk food, cigarettes and even a basketball for a twelve-year-old boy from the neighborhood who has befriended her and become a bit of a younger brother. This is the closest the film ever gets to tender emotion.

She struggles along, pulling tricks out of the local disco, when a young man catches her eye. He seems nice, takes her on some dates and doesn’t demand sex from her. As their relationship grows he reveals he works in Sweden and would love for Lilya to accompany him there. He can even find legitimate work for her. He snags her a passport (with another person’s identity on it - uh oh) and buys her a plane ticket. He tells her he has some business to take care of and will meet her there in a few days. Uh oh again. But no worries, his boss will pick her up at the airport. Run, you stupid little girl, run!!!!

Lilya’s naiveté, her youthful optimism, infatuation and willingness to escape the hell of Estonia lead her into the hands of monsters.

A typical fate for many impoverished females from the former Soviet Union on the international sex trade.    

Moodysson’s film never dips into warnings or social commentary however. It is simply a small character study of shattered hope and dashed dreams.

It is never particularly disturbing like Funny Games or the more emotionally abstract moments of a Cronenberg or Lynch film, just relentlessly brutal and exhaustingly pessimistic. There are few surprises. You know from the outset that Lilya is doomed (hence, the ironic title) yet this human car wreck of a character demands attention. You will be driven to turn it off again and again. You will curse Moodysson for the near sadistic way he compels you to watch despite your good nature and your desire for justice and closure. But, it will stay with you for days, even weeks.

It is not so much a film, but a task.

I have not seen Moodysson’s two previous efforts, Fucking Amál and Together. Both critically acclaimed films that deal with, shall we say, lighter, more ebullient and satirical topics.

So, if they are as warm and life-affirming as Lilya is bleak and oppressive, they must be made of gumdrops, moonbeams and unicorns. 

I put them on my Netflix queue immediately. I need to wash the grim off of me.

Update on Monday, February 1, 2010 at 12:21PM by C. Adolph Moores

You can actually watch the film in its entirety here, but keep the razorblades, whiskey and barbiturates out of arm's reach. You have been warned.

Comments

[Lance Lyle]

Dear C.,

No need to thank me for this recommendation.

Pots of Love,

Lance