Kitayskaya melnitsa: A Quiet Glimpse Into an Older Cinema

Is "Kitayskaya melnitsa" worth digging up today? Honestly, for most folks, probably not. If you're someone who loves tracking down those really obscure bits of cinema, especially from way back, you might find something here. But if you just want a clear story or something with modern polish, you'll likely bounce right off it. It's a specific taste, for sure.

The whole thing kicks off with a shot of... well, a field. It just sits there for a while. Not even a particularly interesting field, just green and a bit hazy. You feel the age of the film, immediate. ⏳

Then we get Aleksandr Oberyukhtin, and his face, it does a lot of work. He has this undeniable presence, even when he’s just standing there, looking off-screen. The camera just lingers on him, letting the silence hang.

There's this one scene, pretty early on, where a character is trying to fix something – maybe a cart wheel? – and the way the light hits his hands, all grimy and focused, it just feels so real. Like a snapshot from a different time. A small thing, but it kinda sticks with you.

The dialogue, what little there is, often feels a bit... stilted. Like they're reciting lines, not really talking to each other. But then, you get a flash of something, a quick glance between two characters, and for a second, it all clicks. The unspoken stuff.

I kept wondering about the "Chinese windmill" title. Is it literal? A metaphor? The film doesn't really spell it out. It just is, you know? That can be frustrating if you want answers. 🤔

Vassiliy Makarov, he plays a character who just seems perpetually tired. Every movement is heavy. You just feel the weight on him. There's a moment where he just sighs, a deep, rattling sound, and it's louder than any of the music.

Speaking of music, it's sparse. Very sparse. Sometimes you just get the wind. Or maybe it was just a draft in the old theater where I watched it. Hard to tell, with these older prints.

The pacing is slow. Not intentionally artistic slow, more like "they didn't have a lot of material" slow. There are long stretches where not much really happens. Just people walking. Or sitting. Or looking. You could probably make a sandwich during some of those scenes. 🥪

But then, out of nowhere, there's a burst of energy. A short, sharp argument, maybe a quick chase. And it feels almost jarring because everything else is so subdued. It’s like the film itself is waking up for a moment.

Aleksandr Timontayev’s character, he has this peculiar habit of always adjusting his hat. Every time he's about to say something important, or even just walk through a door, his hand goes up. A tiny tic, but once you notice it, you can't un-see it.

The ending, well, it’s ambiguous in a way that feels less profound and more like they just ran out of film. Or ideas. It just... stops. No grand pronouncements. Just kind of fades out. It left me scratching my head a bit, but not in an "I need to rewatch this to understand" way. More like, "oh, that's it then."

It’s less a story with a clear arc and more a series of vignettes. Little snapshots. Some resonate, some just drift by. If you’re into mood pieces, or just curious about how film used to feel, there’s a flicker of something here. But don't go in expecting a ride. 🤷‍♀️