Lyublyu li tebya? is a weird, slow, and honest look at youth

Is this for you?

If you have the patience for black-and-white films that prefer long, lingering shots of faces over actual plot progression, you’ll probably find something to hold onto here. If you need a movie that keeps moving or hits you with a big twist every fifteen minutes, skip this. It’s definitely not for the popcorn-chomping crowd.

There’s a strange, dusty quality to the way this film captures its characters. It feels less like a polished studio production and more like someone filmed a stage play inside a drafty apartment. The lighting is honestly pretty hit or miss. Sometimes a face is perfectly lit, and other times the background just swallows everyone whole. It felt intentional, or maybe just a byproduct of the era, but it adds a certain texture that I kinda liked.

I found myself getting distracted by the way the actors hold their cigarettes. It’s so deliberate. Every puff feels like a heavy, scripted moment of internal monologue. It reminded me a bit of the pacing in Among the Counterfeiters, where the silence feels heavier than the dialogue itself.

Tiny observations from the back of my notebook:

• Tamara Makarova looks like she knows exactly how the movie ends, and she’s already bored by it.
• There is this one scene involving a radio that goes on for way too long. The static is louder than the music.
• Someone is constantly walking in or out of a doorway. It’s almost like a chore for them.
• The wardrobe choices are fascinatingly drab. You can almost smell the wool.

It’s not a masterpiece. It’s not even a particularly great movie by most metrics. But it has this hauntingly human rhythm that’s hard to shake off. It’s like hearing a conversation through a thin wall—you catch just enough to be interested, but not enough to really understand what’s driving them.

Honestly, the ending is a bit of a shrug. It doesn't wrap things up with a bow, which is refreshing. Most movies today try way too hard to make sure you know exactly how the protagonist feels about their life choices. Here, characters just walk off-screen, and you’re left looking at an empty chair. That’s good filmmaking, in my book. 📽️

If you're in a mood to just sit with a film and let it wash over you—even if it feels a bit uneven or dusty—give it a look. Just don't expect it to explain itself to you.