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My Joy review
:. Director: Sergei Loznitsa
:. Starring: Viktor Nemets, Olga Shuvalova
:. Running Time: 2:07
:. Year: 2010
:. Country: Ukraine
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My Joy is the first feature film from Ukrainian director Sergei Loznitsa, previously known for his documentary work. Supported by a poetic writing style that is equally morbid and humorous, the story does not cease to diverge, to take back roads, threatening to leave the viewer on the side of the road, but continually nourishing the idea that he needs to be chasing after it.
From the first shots of the enigmatic opening scene, Loznitsa captures our attention and never lets go of it. His narrative takes the viewer into a downward spiral. A spiral represented by liquid concrete in which two thugs will lay and bury a victim. The rest of the film follows the journey of a truck driver who, through different encounters, drives across an abandoned country-police abuse, child prostitution, rural crime and murder. As he follows his road, the allegory of the country's instability is expressed through unforeseen divides, all equally unexpected as one another. We get lost in his wake as we go along into an existential unknown. Along the way he meets as many ghosts from the past and present, and is gradually contaminated by them, turning him into one of them, a mute figure (in the literal sense) wandering, lost in a nameless village, one of Hell's circles, going in circles to finally land at the beginning and to once again disappear into the night.
Interspersed with scenes set during the Second World War, the film examines the historical legacy of these people who fought and whose glory was stolen by cruel and corrupted bureaucrats and leaders. Somewhat intentionally avoiding to be understood, My Joy derives its strength from this resistance, this refusal to engage easily. The film possesses you, haunts you, and ensnares you. Without yielding into the temptation to take the viewer by the hand, it does not however ignore you. Its breathtaking direction is supported by masterfully controlled sequence shots (like the scene in a market where the lens goes from one face to another, before this wandering is brutally interrupted by a man knocking over the truck driver before disappearing into the forest) as well as some morbid and slightly comedic poetry. Strung along by the unexpected, the viewer can only wade to follow the circular path the trucker is on without ever letting go. The film traces a journey without leaving any other trace than that of the ghosts it meets, before leading itself back to its starting point. And at the end of the road: very great cinema; An uncompromising shock.
Moland Fengkov
Translated into English by Christina Azarnia
 Movie Reviews: Foreign Films
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