SATAN CLAWS ARE COMING TO TOWN!

THIS BOLD NEW OCCULT THRILLER IS THE FLAGSHIP FOR A NEW GENERATION OF KAZAKH FILMS – AND THE LOCAL PUNTERS ARE TAKING NOTICE!

With Tatraria Films comes an 18+ certificated `mystical drama thriller` called Dastur, which is Kazakh for Tradition

Throughout its 90 minutes we get a kind of Revenge Tragedy (the film’s tagline is an old Kazakh saying: Let the neck answer for what the hands have done). This is served up with a demonic possession scenario and set in the here-and-now of contemporary Kazakhstan.

The mastermind of this comprises of one Kuanysh Beisekov. He is a 28-year-old director who studied photography after quitting a mathematics course. Before Dastur he has been known only for something quite different. For YouTube he directed a series of popular musical comedy shorts entitled Irina Karatovna.

The players are not that much more well-known either. The most mature of the actors, Aldabek Shalbaev at 65 plays the unsympathetic role of the scheming father of a rapist has done big screen time before in the gangland thriller Taraz (2016).

The lead actor consists of the Almaty resident Ermek Shynbolatov who has done some television work before now, having appeared in the melodrama serial Togzhan (2022) about the lives of television journalists. The crucial female lead is taken by Nurai Zhetkergen. At only 18-years-old this is her first role in a feature film.

The female writer Kazybek Orazbek, who had scripted the comedy Steal Your Money also last year was the main writer alongside Aldar Zhaparhan, who seems to be more of a newcomer.

Shot in the arm.

Released on December 28th last year, Dastur arrived as a sizzling meteorite that hit the earth just on the eve of the long-awaited winter break in Kazakhstan. With lurid promotional graphics and a provocative title, the new film could not have been more of a challenge to the vanilla family comedy fare which hits the screens in this season.

Not known for its edgy horror films, Kazakh cinema has made some reasonable attempts to emulate Korean or Japanese horror. For example, M-Agent (from2013) featured the spirit of a young woman bent on vengeance and had an interesting middle-aged woman for a heroine and In The Dark from 2018 was your classic `don’t-go-hiking-in-the-mountains` yarn and worked on that level, yet both could not escape a sense of being cottage industry products.

Vzyapherti from last year (and reviewed above) was quite refreshing, being a well-made ghost tale (rather more than full horror) but, the Kazakh director aside, seemed somewhat ethnic Russian in its whole cast and outlook.

 Then there is Tor (Grid), also from last year, This might be called `psychological horror` with a sort of update on Kafka’s The Trial but would be too `mundane` for most horror film devotees.

Dastur is as full on horror as it is full on Kazakh and it may well deserve its reputation for being Kazakhstan’s first `true` horror motion picture. Release the bats!

NOT a family comedy for once….[KZ.Kursiv.media]

Keeping it real.

What ensures the effectiveness of Dastur is its docudrama like approach to the narrative. The first half of the film presents us with a sort of bird’s eye view of life in a present-day Kazakh village in the summer. We see an end of term school celebration, some male-on male bullying, and tensions between generations. The otherworldly elements arrive by stealth, forestalling any resistance. Friedkin’s over celebrated 1973 classic The Exorcist, which pulls the same trick, could well have been the template here. (Indeed, the film contains a cheeky self-referential wink: one of the main characters, the young Bolat, is seen wearing a The Exorcist baseball cap in one sequence).

Dastur neither boasts nor needs a panoply of special effects. Nevertheless, the one unsettling spectacle of a man creeping on the wall is achieved with audacious simplicity,

Villagers.

After the above-mentioned scene setting, the focus falls on the two young protagonists, Bolat and Diana. The former represents the spoilt and wayward son of a wealthy livestock farmer and the latter a desirable and talented daughter from a more modest local background.

One fateful evening, following the school celebration, a dissipated Bolat takes Diana by force. For this he is flung into the jail of the regional police force to await trial. Bolat’s father, however, is a bigshot in the local community and soon he sets the wheels of exculpation in motion.

The loaded daddy proposes a traditional way out. If Bolat makes an honest woman of Diana, by marrying her, this will erase the sexual indiscretion – and free his son.

The elders scheme to get Diana married to her abuser [KZ.Kursiv.media]

Diana’s parents are set against this outrageous imposition and spurn many entreaties to make it happen. Money talks, however, and they, at length, settle for a dowry of ten million tenge (the local currency) in cash. The wedding which follows is a tense farce. On the wedding night Diana vanishes and Bolat finds that she has attempted to hang herself in the forest. With a new found tenderness he takes her to his parent’s home and tends to her behind locked doors, ignoring any attempts his mother or father make to intervene.

What happens next is that a two headed calf is born on the father’s farm and Bolat’s mother is spooked by freak television broadcasts showing Diana as a young girl. This is only the beginning of a spectral rampage….

Plenty here to creep you out [KZ.Kursiv.media]

There are parallels here with Carrie (1976) and, in terms of the melodramatic focus on family differences, Hereditary (2018).

Wider relevance.

The very title of the film signposts one of the main themes here: the iniquitous nature of some of the customs still in place in central Asia outside of the major cities.

A switched-on Kazakh might even notice some arch allusions to the real-life murder case centred around Salthnat Nukenova. (In brief, the wife of the ex-Minister of the National Economy, Kuandyk Bishimbyaev, died of bodily harm which it is alleged was inflicted on her by her husband. It is a hot topic in Kazakhstan and the investigation is ongoing).

Yet despite this apparent critique of Kazakh cultural heritage, the sole hero of the film – like the catholic priest in The Exorcist – is an old school holy man, an imam.

Success story.

My experience of getting to see this film met with unique obstacles. On the first attempt I was informed that all the tickets had sold out and on the second I just managed to get one but shared the cinema with a packed crowd of ethnic Kazakhs. (Contrast this with my more typical experience of finding myself in a near empty hall). Needless to say, Dastur has been granted an extended run in many cinemas.

For me it was the impassioned performances that I found most notable. (Shynbolatov told Elle Magazine in January 2024 that he visited a psychiatric facility to prepare for his role. It was not a wasted expedition.) The unsettling ambience of this film is generic enough to please the horror film demographic yet it bears its own stamp and stays true to Kazakh sensibilities. Also, it blindsided me with an unexpected plot development.

Main image: Kinopoisk.ru

IT’S NOT A BOY! The film `Tvar` (`Stray`).

Another demon-child yarn with added sophistication, a pleasing autumnal ambience and a great role for Elena Lyadova.

All too many of the Russian made scary movies that I have promoted on here have had certain features in common. As much as they have prompted me to nod my head with a smile, they have sought to mimic Hollywood and to court those of college age.

Among the exceptions to this is TVAR (STRAY) a chiller delivered with some style. In fact, this enterprise is assured enough to risk being subtle as well as – not always a quality found in modern Russian cinema – original in parts.

kinopoisk.ru

From the `Queen of horror`.

TVAR opened in the cinemas on 28th November this year with a 16+ certificate. The picture houses sold it as a `detective mystery story`, which may be significant terms of marketing,, but this is really a supernatural thriller par excellence and one tailor made for the season in which it appeared.

The creator of the story is none other than Anna Starobinets who, on account of her short stories, has been dubbed Russia’s `Queen of horror`. Behind the cameras was Olga Gorodetska, who here is directing her first full length film (an hour and a half long). Ilya Ovsenev, who has worked on the forthcoming `Project Gemini`, was the cinematographer. Several production companies seem to have had some involvement in TVAR. The notable ones include Star Media – the purveyors of numerous effective television melodramas – and TV3, who seem to have their hand in every pie these days.

The main star on consists of Elena Lyadova, the 39-year-old Morshansk born actress,who many will be familiar with from the grim social-realist fable Leviathan (2014). She is joined by Vladimir Vdovichenkov who is 48 and also appeared in Leviathan. An other talent is Yevgeny Tsyganov who featured in Provodnik last year.

Family drama.

TVAR revolves around hearth and home and in the relations between man and wife and their children. In accordance with this, the areas touched on include grief, self-deception and indomitable mother love.

A couple in early middle -age, in recovery from the unspeakable loss of their first son, form the main protagonists. They find themselves visiting an orphange outside Moscow with the aim of finding a surrogate son to adopt.

Overseen by nuns, the forbidding institution is filled with cots, but none of their inhabitants inspire Polina, the bereaved mother (Lyadova), a former teacher. However, she then claps eyes on a wayward and neglected child who has secreted himself away in the basement of the building following the suicide of his father.

Enigma.

She is at once drawn to this odd-looking and angular child. When she asks to be granted the role of his new mother, she is met with some resistance from the nuns and also some scepticism from her more conventional but supportive husband (Vdovichenkov).

Polina persists and at length the couple take the boy to their home. The boy seems to respond to the loving attentions of his new mother but remains somewhat feral. He is given to scurrying beneath his bed when people appear,stuffing raw meat into his mouth, and crouching on top of furniture ready to pounce.( A bold performance from one Sevastyan Bugaev). On top of all that, there is mounting evidence that this boy is no ordinary maladjusted kid. He commits a serious assault on another child, for example. Nevertheless, the smitten mother comes to believe that he could even be a reincarnation of her lost son….

The Polina finds herself to be pregnant with a new child of her own….

New handling.

The drama skirts close to two cinema classics concerning demonic children: The Exorcist (1973) and The Omen (1976) and even seems to reference them in one or two scenes.

That said, as much as the blood-and-thunder elements are central to the tale, the film downplays them a bit. It does so through the use of anti-climax and avoidance of clichés, putting only enough pepper into the soup to give it the necessary tang. So the supernatural situation may be old hat, but the handling of it blows the cobwebs away.

A film for its season.
[kinoafisha.info]
 

The adventurous photography of Ovsenev (we are treated to some unusual camera angles) and the overall direction (we are confounded with a false ending) make for memorable stylish stuff.

Then an overaching ambient score (from Alexander Slyootskiy and Karim Nasser) ramps up the Halloween atmosphere as the action moves between the creepy nun’s mansion, the couple’s swish Moscow apartment and then their dacha in the forest.

It is Lyadova’s sustained performance as a woman haunted in every sense of the word that adds gravitas to the whole tale.

TVAR has something of Don’t Look Now (1973) about it and also, from the same period, makes a nod towards Solaris (1972) at one key juncture. TVAR, though, with its small innovations and misty twilight setting, is all its own. It offers horror for grown ups.

TRAILER FOR `TVAR`

Featured image: youtube.com.