Dokhunda: A Rough, Historical Look at Change

Is it worth your time?

If you like movies that feel like they were dug out of a time capsule, you might find some interest here. It’s definitely not for anyone who needs a fast pace or fancy camerawork to stay awake. If you enjoy The Branded Man or just like seeing how different cultures have tried to tell revolutionary stories on screen, you’ll get through it. But honestly? If you’re looking for a light Friday night watch, look elsewhere.

The whole thing feels very heavy. It’s not necessarily a bad heavy, just a very dense, earnest kind of storytelling that doesn’t leave much room for air.

The Look and Feel

There’s a specific kind of dust that hangs over the locations in this movie. You can almost feel it in your throat while watching Yodgor trudge through these landscapes. It’s not polished, and there are moments where the framing feels like the camera operator just set the tripod down and hoped for the best. 🎥

One scene near the middle where the characters are arguing over a harvest feels like it goes on for an eternity. The silence between lines of dialogue is so thick you could carve it into a statue. It’s an oddly hypnotic choice, even if it feels a bit clunky by modern standards.

The Performance

Kamil Yarmatov really carries the screen, though he’s got this intense, unblinking stare that gets a little scary after the first hour. He plays the revolutionary spirit perfectly, but I couldn't help but wonder if he ever just wanted to take a break from being so damn serious.

• The costumes look like they’ve actually been lived in for years.
• The lighting in the interior shots is barely there, honestly.
• Some of the extras in the background look like they’re just trying to find their bus home.

It’s not as polished as The Wizard of Oz, obviously, but it has this raw, unrefined quality that makes you realize someone was really working hard under difficult conditions. There is a scene where a group of men is sitting on the floor—the way the light hits the texture of the carpets is more interesting than half the dialogue.

I found myself zoning out during the political speeches, but then snapping back to attention because of a stray dog walking through the frame that nobody bothered to shoo away. It’s those little accidents that make me like these old films more than the big, perfect blockbusters.

It’s an uneven watch. Sometimes it soars with this genuine, gritty power, and other times it just feels like a lecture you’re stuck in. But hey, it's real. It’s not trying to sell you toys or a franchise. It’s just trying to show you a piece of a world that doesn’t exist anymore.