Leviathan

Director: Andrey Zvyagintsev

2014

9 August 2025

See

Kolya (Aleksey Serebryakov) a volatile mechanci and third generation resident of coastal town Pribrezhny, near Murmansk in Northern Russia on the Barents Sea, fights to hold on to his family home from the corrupt and greedy mayor Vadim (Roman Madyanov). Supporting him are his wife Lilya (Elena Lyadova), son Roma (Sergey Pokhodaev) and former army buddy now Moscow lawyer friend Dima (Vladimir Vdovichenkov). 

Think

It’s David vs Goliath, except more the biblical story of Job, as apparatchik Vadim legally takes what’s Kolya’s. Dima dig up kompromat on the mayor, but it’s human nature to want more, and try to hold on to what you already have by grasping tighter as it slips between your fingers. This is shown in an idiosyncratically Russian way; an arctic landscape, a cold and hard people. They’re not unfeeling, but repressed. They can’t get what they want, so they try to settle for less. Pushing down their emotions because sensitivity is perceived as weakness. And David doesn’t always win, he was the exception that proves the rule. There’s corruption everywhere, konechno. An orthodox priest, tense tête-à-têtes, a birthday celebration in nature, with shashlik, shooting, and of course vodka, or better yet, samogon. No one is without fault, yet each character is mired in their own circumstance. But candour comes through in endearing drunken jokes to release tension, like the scene with Kolya and Liliya’s friends Anzhela (Anna Ukolova) abd Pasha (Aleksey Rozin):

“I’d like to run away too”, says Anzhela.

“With who?” says Pasha.

“It doesn’t matter who, away from you.”

“Where to, Moscow?”

“I’d run all the way to America.”

“Why not the moon?”

Then she cautions Kolya to not drink so much, for the negative effect it will have on his son, Roma, who is traumatised enough. Anzhela then pours another round, and Pasha gets up to go home.

“Are you okay to drive?” She says.

“Of course, I’m a traffic cop aren’t I?” he says. 

Feel

In the Team Deakins podcast British cinematographer Roger Deakins and his wife and colleague James said they loved this film, because it is unlike anything they’ve seen. The story goes from bad to worse, and the characters stoically withstand more than any westerner would for longer than anyone else could be so depressed. It’s a cold shower and we don’t know what cold is, not really. That’s the Russian mentality, in my opinion. Withstanding discomfort for longer than anyone else can. That strength isn’t necessarily a virtue. Without warmth you can’t thaw, grow and develop. Except in this case, by spilling hot blood. 

The Bishop (Valeriy Grishko) evokes the eponymous parable of Job:

“Can you pull down Leviathan with a dish hook? Or tie down its tongue with rope? Will it keep begging you for mercy? Will it speak to you with gentle words? Nothing on Earth is its equal. It is king over all who are proud.” 

Perhaps a secular analogy is preferable, this is a Kafkaesque narrative. A word often used, but if you can’t apply it to the Russian legal system, when can you? It is a nightmarish, unusual top down management process, whereby the outcome is predetermined through trumped up charges, a show trial, judges speed reading pursuant criminal codes, statutes, evidence, verdict, appeal dismissal, sentencing. To the point of absurdity; Cyrilic legalese, without stopping for air, swallowing saliva, or drinking water. Inhumane. As if the system weren’t administered by people. Any concerns, queries, or suggestions will be resolved by the state By squashing the little guy, transmogrified into a bug. It’s reminiscent of how the DDR functioned punitively against its own populace as represented in The Lives of Others. Except that state ceased to exist. This one lingers, while its citizens anguish. This film is at least a lamentation.