The Tribe, Marshland, I am Big Bird: Ukrainian film has sex, violence

There’s sex and violence in abundance and all dialogue is in Ukrainian sign language — without subtitles. The film? The Tribe.

Rosa Babiy, left, and Yana Novikova in The Tribe.

One thing is certain: there never has been a film like The Tribe. To describe it thus may make it sound daunting, but it is something of a landmark in cinema and anyone interested in the medium should steel themselves to see it.

Ukrainian director Miroslav Slaboshpitsky makes his feature film debut with a film set among members of a community for the deaf-mute and enacted entirely in Ukrainian sign language, without subtitles or any kind of translation. If you think that sounds like a challenge you’re willing to accept, you still may be confronted by unusually graphic scenes of sex and violence in a film that lasts more than two hours and 10 minutes.

This is about as far as it gets from the notion of movies as entertainment, but this multi-award-winning film is, in every way, a remarkable and exciting film experience.

In the opening sequence, the camera observes Sergey (Grigoriy Fesenko) from the other side of a busy road as he seeks directions from a passer-by. His destination is a boarding school for young people with severe hearing impairment, but if you expect a sentimental movie about the courage and endurance of youngsters living with this disability you’ve got another thing coming. The ugly, graffiti-covered walls of the building make it clear from the start this is no paradise for the deaf and dumb, and it takes no time at all for Sergey to be admitted into “the tribe”, a gang of older kids who, with the complicity of at least one teacher, take part in rob­beries and prostitution.

It’s the latter aspect of life in the school that is most shocking. Two attractive girls, Anna (Yana Novikova) and Svetka (Rosa Babiy), are escorted, without any protest on their part, to a truck stop each night where they’re offered to lorry drivers in exchange for euros. When the young man who pimps for these girls is accidentally killed (in a shockingly abrupt scene), Sergey steps into his shoes — but makes the mistake of falling in love with Anna, who seems to reciprocate. Sergey’s infatuation for Anna causes a problem for the school’s woodwork teacher (Alexander Panivan), who is planning to send the girls to Italy as sex workers.

There is, as noted above, plenty to confront the viewer here, although it’s surprising how quickly you become accustomed to following the fairly basic narrative without access to the dialogue — it’s a bit like watching a silent movie without inter-titles, except this film is filled with ambient sounds. More challenging, for some, will be the intimacy of the sex scenes and the ­violence, which includes a fairly graphic abortion. The brutal realism of these scenes is all the more astounding when you learn that none of the cast members, all of whom are deaf-mutes, had acted before.

For the brave viewer, there’s a great deal to admire in this unflinching film, which can be seen, perhaps, as an allegory for life in Ukraine itself during a period of extreme pressure from a large and hostile neighbour. One of the most striking aspects of the film is the stunning way it is photographed by Valentyn Vasyanovych, who also edited the film and who is also making his feature film debut. Director and cameraman use long takes that have been precisely composed for the Scope screen, alternating between fixed position setups and fluid tracking shots.

As you will have gathered, the society the film explores is a grim one, and presumably is not typical of all schools for the deaf in Ukraine. But, despite its confrontational aspects, there’s a strange kind of exhilaration that propels the drama as, without access to language, you become caught up in lives that are alien to most of us. Certainly The Tribe is a demanding film; but it is also an extraordinary achievement.

Spanish film Marshland, which has been screening in staggered release around the country, is a thriller set specifically in September 1980, five years after the death of Francisco Franco, the fascist dictator who ruled that country after winning the civil war in 1939.

The action takes place in what is literally a backwater, an area of rivers, lakes and heavy rainfall, but also an area where (as we see from the graffiti and from the attitudes of many inhabitants) many still hanker for the period of the dictatorship.

The film begins with the arrival of two federal policemen, Pedro (Raul Arevalo), who represents the new Spain, and Juan (Javier Gutierrez), who represents the old and who, we discover, served in Franco’s Gestapo-like security police force. They have been sent to investigate the disappearance of the two teenage daughters of a local ferryman, and after the raped and mutilated bodies of the girls are eventually discovered, the investigation reveals other girls of similar age have disappeared in recent months.

From this intriguing premise, director Alberto Rodriguez and his co-writer Rafael Cobos delve into a web of intrigue, with multiple suspects and red herrings.

For much of its length this is a very engaging drama, combining as it does the investigation itself as well as the exploration of the area and its people. There is also tension between the two cops, whose backgrounds and political beliefs are diametrically opposed. Outstanding location photography (by Alex Catalan) adds to the drama, with some amazing bird’s eye imagery that looks down on the action from a great height (the opening credits are incredibly beautiful). Unfortunately, the conclusion is a let-down, either because Rodriguez wanted to be tantalisingly elliptical or because he botched a key sequence. Either way, the drama that had been maintained satisfactorily is deflated.

Despite the disappointment of the ending, the film still has merit and will be of interest to anyone fascinated by the period of Spanish transition from dictatorship to democracy. And the acting is very fine, especially Gutierrez (who won the best actor prize at San Sebastian, Spain’s main film festival, last year) as the aggressive Juan.

Until I saw I am Big Bird: The Caroll Spinney Story, I hadn’t given much thought to how that endearing denizen of Sesame Street actually worked, so it was fascinating to be shown just how Spinney, inside the bird suit covered with 4000 yellow feathers, operated the thing. This information fills you with admiration for the man — still performing at 80 — but the documentary about him by Dave LaMattina and Chad Walker is a little too fulsome in its praise for my taste. Still, there are fascinating insights here into the origins of the Muppets, and of Jim Henson, Frank Oz and other artists who created such unforgettable puppet characters. Spinney was also Oscar the Grouch, and the film suggests his two famous characters represented two sides of his personality — but from the extensive home movies we see he just seems like a very pleasant and very talented guy.

The Tribe (Plemya) (R18+) 4.5 stars

Limited release

Marshland (La isla minimums) (MA15+) 3.5 stars

Limited staggered release

I am Big Bird (PG) 2.5 stars

Limited staggered release