Ukanaskneli maskaradi: A strange, dusty trip

Is it worth the time?

If you have a thing for black-and-white curiosities and don’t mind subtitles that feel like they were written by someone who hasn't spoken to a human in a week, then sure. Watch it. If you want a movie where you can scroll your phone while it plays in the background, you will probably hate it. It demands you look at the screen, even if the screen is confusing you half the time.

It’s a bit like watching The Dreyfus Case, but with way more erratic energy. The pacing is… well, let's just say it doesn't really have any. It just drifts.

Notes from the couch

• The makeup is intense. Sometimes the shadows under the eyes look like they were painted on with a thick charcoal pencil.
• There is a scene in a hallway that goes on for an eternity. The character is just staring at a wall, and I swear I heard my own heartbeat over the silence.
• The crowd scenes feel like everyone was told to keep moving but no one was told *where*. It’s a beautiful kind of chaos.

There’s this one bit where someone drops a glass, and it doesn't shatter right. It just kind of thuds. It’s those little, stupid, imperfect moments that make me glad I watched this instead of some big-budget remake. You can tell they were trying to pull off something massive with zero money and a lot of nerves.

Cinematic perspective: Exploring the visual vocabulary of Ukanaskneli maskaradi (1934) through its definitive frames.

The acting is big. Like, theater-in-the-back-row big. It makes the subtler stuff look even weirder when it finally pops up. Sometimes I felt like the actors were in two different movies entirely, but maybe that was the point?

I found myself thinking about Mare Nostrum halfway through, just because of how differently they handle the weight of the story. This movie doesn't carry weight. It just kind of floats around the room like a ghost. 👻

Don't look for a lesson. Don't look for a moral. Just watch the faces. They’re doing a lot of work that the script isn't doing for them. It’s honest, if a bit messy, and sometimes that’s enough for a Sunday afternoon.