A scene from the Russian post-apocalyptic action adventure film LAST RONIN. Courtesy of Well Go USA
In old Japan, Ronin were Samurai without masters, roaming the land on their own, yet mostly still living by their code of honor. Their status and role in society varied through the centuries, but the lone wandering warrior image persists, and has been glorified in dozens of films from Japan and elsewhere. The anachronistically-title THE LAST RONIN is a bare-bones post-apocalyptic adventure from Russia. Yuri Kolokolnikov stars as the eponymous figure – a grizzled older fellow, looking somewhat like Ron Perlman, traveling alone through the desert hellscape. The katana (sword) on his back is the most important of his few possessions. We learn that his main reason for living is to find the guy what kilt his pappy and wreak vengeance upon him.
He’s approached by a tough young woman (Diana Enkaeva) who wants to hire him as a bodyguard. She offers to pay in bullets, which is the main form of currency in that dismal future. Her goal is reaching a wall that’s a long trek away from the enclave in which she was raised. We gradually learn why she left shortly before the end of their sojourn. Along the way, they run afoul of a marauding gang and a few other menaces scattered around this low-tech, scarce-resources, sparsely populated era.
Everything about their world and the production is minimalist. There’s a lot of bleakness in the environment and the lives being lived therein. But writer/director Max Shiskin sprinkles in a satisfying amount of violence – mostly blades, arrows and bullets, with bits of martial arts – to contrast with the stars’ dreary slog. The final act takes some surprising turns when an unexpected (by them and us) destination is reached.
The underplayed performances of the principals work well in defining the milieu and their resulting personalities. This matters, since most of the foes they encounter are faceless or anonymous, putting the dramatic load squarely on their shoulders. It’s something like a MAD MAX world, but far less noisy and flashy. No extant vehicles to be found, and the weapons du jour are simpler.
The closer our world leaders come to blundering and blustering us into this sort of future, the more tales in this genre seem like training films than fantasies. Alas.
THE LAST RONIN, in Russian and some French with English subtitles, debuts in digital formats on various platforms on Tuesday, Sept. 16, 2025, from Well Go USA.
Zuzanna Surowy as Sara/Manya, in MY NAME IS SARA. Courtesy of Strand Releasing
How many 13-year-olds have the self-discipline to pretend to be someone else for two years, without once revealing the truth even to those closest to her? MY NAME IS SARA is a tense historical survival drama that unfolds more like a thriller, which recounts the true story of 13-year-old Sara Goralnik who concealed her Jewish identity in Nazi-occupied Ukraine for two years, even from the Ukrainian Orthodox farmers with whom she is living.
There is a particularly timely element to this true story film as it is set in western Ukraine, part of which was in Poland when World War II started and part of which was in the Soviet Union, but all of which was occupied by Germany when the story takes place. The film not only tells Sara Goralnik’s harrowing personal story but gives us insights into the plight of Ukrainian farmers during the war, farmers who were brutalized and exploited by the occupying Nazis but also subject to raids from partisans hiding in the woods. As much as they might support the partisans goals in fighting the Nazis, the farmers faced starvation by repeated raids from both sides.
MY NAME IS SARA feels more like a thriller than a historical drama or biography, although it is also those. During World War II, many Jews tried to survive by posing as Christians, and fear of discovery gives such hidden identity stories an inherent tension, but MY NAME IS SARA is exceptional. Not only is young Sara hiding from the Nazis but she has to conceal her Jewish identify from the very family she is living with. The Ukrainian Orthodox Christian farming family is not helping her to hide – or at least not knowingly. In some ways, they were as much a threat to her safety as the Nazis occupying the nearby Ukrainian town, since they not only share their neighbors’ antisemitic attitudes but they were also driven by fear, as the Nazis brutally punish anyone sheltering Jewish refugees. The risk of discovery is ever-present and Sara has no one she can trust, yet must appear calm at all times, a challenge for anyone but all the more so for someone so young.
Sara (newcomer Zuzanna Surowy) and her family lived in Korets in the Poland when the Nazis invaded. Before the war, Korets had a large Jewish population that was well-integrated with the Polish Catholic and Orthodox Christian Ukrainian ones. As the film opens, Sara and her older brother Moishe (Konrad Cichon) are hiding in the woods, after fleeing the ghetto where their parents and two younger brothers are trapped. They are attempting to cross the border into the Soviet Union, an area the Nazis also occupy, with the goal of reaching a farm owned by an old non-Jewish woman that their parents have paid to shelter them. But as soon as they arrive, Moishe realizes they can’t stay, as the nervous woman is likely to betray them. “You would do better without me,” he tells his younger sister, noting that her appearance, with light-colored eyes and hair, makes it easier for her to pass as non-Jewish than his more obviously Jewish features do. The next morning, Sara makes the tough choice to leave while her brother sleeps.
After making her way through the woods, the hungry and tired Sara emerges in a field where an Ukrainian farmer, Ivan (Pawel Królikowski), and his son Grisha (Piotr Nerlewski) are working. She tells Ivan she is looking for work, that her name is Manya Romanchuk and she has run away from a troubled home life in Korets. The farmer eyes her with suspicion, then asks if she is Jewish, which she denies. He demands she make the sign of the cross herself as proof she is Christian. Satisfied with her response, the Ukrainians take her to the farm of Ivan’s brother Pavlo (Eryk Lubos) and his younger wife Nadya (Michalina Olszanska) where Sara can work as a nanny for their two young sons. At the farm, Sara is challenged again to prove she is not Jewish and, again, passes their tests, although her new employers still remain wary.
While Sara faces constant threat of discovery, she also learns things about her Ukrainian farmer employers that can help her. They hate the Nazi occupiers too, and are not so fond of the Russians, with memories of the Soviet famine of the 1930s lingering. She also learns that the husband and wife each have secrets, and each tries to enlist her support in their troubled marriage.
Director Steven Oritt ramps up the tension in this film in a series of nail-biting scenes, and the threat is always in our minds. The true-story is aided by the fact that Oritt interviewed the real Sara Goralnik Shapiro extensively before her death in 2018, information that David Himmelstein used in writing his script. As well as concealing her identity during the war, the real Sara also kept the secret of her war-time experience from her family until late in life. Although it is just being released now into theaters, the drama was made in 2019 with the support of Steven Spielberg’s USC Shoah Foundation and with the real Sara’s son, Mickey Shapiro, serving as executive producer. It has played several film festivals, including the 2020 Miami Jewish Film Festival, where it won the Audience Award for Best Narrative Film, and the 2019 Warsaw Jewish Film Festival, where it won the David Camera Grand Prix Award. Oritt has made a few documentaries but this is his dramatic feature film debut.
The film was shot on location in Poland with a Polish crew and with a Polish, German, Russian and Ukrainian cast, lending authenticity. It has lovely cinematography by Marian Prokop, who took advantage of the pretty, period Polish locations, aided by nice art direction. The acting is good, with young Zuzanna Surowy particularly impressive as Sara, particularly considering her lack of acting experience. Her still, sad face has a inherent underlying steel to it which serves the film well. Often when the character is asked a fraught question or faces a situation that threatens to expose her, Suwovy’s face remains still and unchanged for a beat, before she smiles and pretends to be pleased or cooperative, a choice that has the effect of making the viewer hold their breathe for a moment, increasing the tension more than one might expect. Director Oritt does a masterful job with keeping tension high overall, without ever wearing us out with the suspense.
As the story unfolds, what is most astonishing is Sara’s ability to pass as Ukrainian Orthodox Christian. Time and again, her employers test her, suspicious that she may be Jewish, asking her to cross herself, eat pork and even recite Christian prayers. Although we eventually learn the reason for her knowledge of Orthodox ways, we remain impressed that one so young can so coolly pull off the impersonation. Beyond the religious testing, there are other threats to expose her, including that the village she fled is not so far away, and she runs the risk she might encounter someone who knows her.
The film also periodically reminds us of the deadly price the Nazis imposed on those who did shelter Jews. When another Jewish girl turns up at the farm, Sara tries to help without giving herself away, another reminder of the constant danger she is in.
There is much to admire about this film but not all is perfect. Some of the exposition is unclear, and we are not entirely certain what is happening between Sara and Pavlo, although he is clearly attracted to her. The film also has the characters speak in English when they are presumably speaking in Ukrainian but uses subtitles for other languages, a choice that some viewers might find awkward.
All in all, MY NAME IS SARA is a worthy drama, an impressive true story of surviving the Holocaust, by a teen girl on her own, forced to conceal her identity and live by her wits, told with a thriller vibe, and shot on location with fine cinematography and acting.
MY NAME IS SARA, in English and Polish, German and Russian with English subtitles, opens Friday, Aug. 19, at Marcus Des Peres Cinema and other theaters.
Marta Kessler as Kira and Svetlana Khodchenkova as Lilya in “Sekta.” Courtesy of MHZChoice.com
Good news, of a sort. The US is apparently not the only country having problems with cults. The Russian TV miniseries “Sekta” (“The Sect”) dramatizes the emotional and physical brutality of what cults can do to the gullible, and how hard it can be for others to rescue and de-program the victims. Powerful, if unpleasant, to witness, yet seemingly insightful and realistic about short and long-term effects on all touched by such situations.
The protagonist is a nurse, Lilya (Svetlana Khodchenkova), who helps a trio of parent-hired freelancers after they’ve managed to retrieve an unwilling Nika (Anastasiya Chistyakova) from her large, violent cult. The leader is a charismatic guy who claims the usual sort of insight beyond this lifetime, and a path to eternal bliss. They have no problem using any means to retake Nika, who supposedly is the key to their ritual ascension. They are also extremely well-funded, with clout in high places to keep the cops away. The proceedings are further complicated by Lily’s baggage from her previous trauma in another cult, and raising a young daughter, Kira (Marta Kessler), who may have some powers of her own. Lilya’s problems from that ordeal may not be completely behind her in several respects.
The early going is rather confusing, with numerous flashbacks delaying our understanding of what’s going on now, and what it all means. But patience will be rewarded, as the past and current story lines converge into an action-packed chain of events. Nika has been thoroughly brainwashed, and staunchly resists the process of returning to what we call a normal life. The “cure” often seems almost as bad as the indoctrination had been.
The sets are excellent for their bleakness that suits the subject matter. First-rate performances from the three women and Filipp Yankovski, as Berk the creepy, mesmerizing leader of Nika’s cult. He resembles a young Royal Dano, for those who recall that great character actor of yore. Gaunt and driven, one sees how his special brand of narcissistic psychopathy could reel in those who feel lost and adrift in their communities. Leaders of religious and political cults generally seem so certain of whatever they’re spewing, that the “Kool-Aid” seems plausible, and better than any other options they perceive.
Watching this is not a relaxing binge. But if you’re in the mood for something serious, with the bonus of the rare opportunity to see what Russians are viewing, it’s a good bet. “Sekta,” in Russian with English subtitles, is streaming now on MHZChoice.com
Left to Right: Oleg Ivenko as Rudolf Nureyev, Natalia Dudiskaya as Anna Polikarpova Photo by Larry Horrocks. Courtesy Sony Pictures Classics.
A “white crow” is a Russian idiom meaning a misfit, an oddball, someone who does not fit the mold – a perfect description for ballet star Rudolph Nureyev.
In the 1960s, ballet stars and opera
divas were pop culture rock stars, as strange as that might seems to
modern ears. One of the biggest ballet stars was Rudolph Nureyev, the
Russian dancer who transformed men’s role in ballet from mere props
for ballerinas to dramatic, dynamic stars in their own right. But
WHITE CROW takes place long before all that, following the life of
the young dancer from his hard rural Russian childhood to his
tumultuous years training under the Soviet Union system to the edge
of stardom while touring with the Kirov Ballet Company in Paris.
Ralph Fiennes directs this gorgeous,
glorious biopic about the early life of this great 20th century
artist whose rebellious spirit and innovative ideas transformed his
art form. Dancer Oleg Ivenko plays Nureyev, in a surprisingly strong
acting debut. Fiennes himself takes a supporting role as Nureyev’s
ballet teacher and mentor Alexander Pushkin.
WHITE CROW is based on a true story but
it unfolds more like a thriller than a conventional biopic,
particularly in the tension-filled last half. The film jumps back and
forth in time, between Nureyev in Paris, enjoying Parisian culture
and nightlife but under the scrutiny of his KGB minder, Nureyev’s
brutal poverty-stricken childhood in rural Russia near Ufa, and his
days as an ambitious student under Pushkin in Leningrad.
Distinguishing the Paris scenes from the childhood ones is easy, in
part because the former are in black and white, but keeping the
closer-in-time scenes in Paris and at the dance academy in Leningrad
straight is a bit trickier. However, keeping an eye on the
distinctive settings helps, as does the presence of Fiennes as the
ballet master.
Adele Exarchopoulos plays Clara Saint,
a wealthy and well-connected young French woman Nureyev meets in
Paris and would play a crucial role in this story. Chulpan Khamatova
plays Alexander Pushkin’s warm-hearted wife Xenia, who provides soup,
support, and more.
The film is visually lush, especially in the Paris scenes, where the 1961 period styles and sets give it an exciting boost. The photography is equally strong, with the austere black and white photography underlining the harsh poverty of his early life, and contrasting starkly with the stately formal spaces of the dance academy in Leningrad as well as the colorful if cramped apartment of the Pushkins.
This is actor Ralph Fiennes’ third
outing as director, his other films being CORILANUS and THE INVISIBLE
WOMAN. Fiennes had no particular interest in ballet when he read
Julie Kavanagh’s biography of Nureyev, “Rudolph Nureyev: The
Life,” on which the film is partly based, but he was struck by
the dramatic story of the dancer’s early life. Fiennes’ producer on
his previous films and this one, Gabrielle Tana, has a more direct
link, having been a ballet dancer as a child and having even met
Nureyev.
Unlike many actors turned director,
Fiennes wisely keeps his supporting if pivotal character’s presence
low-key, keeping the focus on the young star. The film has the right
mix of dance sequences and drama to satisfy and please dance fans
without slowing down the story or losing the non-dance fans in the
audience. Images of the real Nureyev dancing are shown over the end
credits, a nice final touch.
The acting is strong throughout.
Fiennes makes the most of Oleg Ivenko’s good looks, although Ivenko
does not resemble Nureyev. Instead, it is all in Ivenko’s smoldering
stare and arrogant demeanor as he creates his portrait of the
ambitious rising star. Ivenko exudes a sense of star power, whether
he is acting or dancing, which greatly aids the dramatic scenes at
the airport late in the film. Adele Exarchopoulos is charismatic and
a touch mysterious as Clara Saint, adding greatly to some fiery
scenes between her and Ivenko’s Nureyev. Likewise, Chulpan Khamatova
is perfect as Xenia Pushkin, in their shifting, complicated
relationship.
WHITE CROW deals with Nureyev’s
sexuality in a frank, matter-of-fact way but does not dwell on it.
Instead, the focus is one Nureyev’s personal drive and ambition, and
particularly on his bold, rebellious nature.
WHITE CROW is a taut dramatic thriller
that is as much about overcoming adversity and the drive of an artist
to be free, as it is about Nureyev, the Cold War or ballet, although
it is about those too. It opens Friday, May 17, at the Plaza
Frontenac Cinema.
Anton Chekhov’s THE SEAGULL is great material for a first-rate film. Director Michael Mayer’s screen adaptation of Chekhov’s 1896 play is a visually lovely production with a top-tier cast with wonderful locations, sets and costumes. “The Seagull”was the first of Chekhov’s four great plays, a work full of human meaning, and one of the great classics of literature. Sadly, “great classic” does not describe this film.
Michael Mayer’s THE SEAGULL is not so much a bad film as a deeply disappointing one. It should have been a great film – it has all the lavish trappings of a great film, fabulous cast included, yet it is a hollow shell, all surface with little underneath. The problem seems to be two-fold. First, Stephen Karam’s script does violence to Chekhov’s work, reducing the 3-hour play to a mere 99 minutes. Then, director Michael Mayer hurries the cast through mechanical, emotionless readings of this truncated material, allowing for little room for development of characters or relationships between.
Which is really a shame. It is a waste of a terrific cast, an ensemble cast that seems perfect, and includes stars Annette Bening, Saoirse Ronan, Brian Dennehy, Corey Stoll, and Elisabeth Moss, and other gifted actors. The cast does manage to sneak through some good moments but not enough to salvage the film entirely. One often feels as if the director is deliberately holding them back, forcing them to rein in the emotion.
The story takes place at a stately lakeside Russian estate in the late 19th or early 20th century. Annette Bening plays Irina, a famous but aging actress, who is the center of this story, and as often as she can manage it, the center of attention. Irina is visiting the country estate she owns with her brother Sorin (Brian Dennehy), with an entourage that includes her ailing but charismatic brothern, her lover Boris (Corey Stoll), who is a famous writer of middle-brow works, and Irina’s son Konstantin (Billy Howle), who has ambitions to be a playwright. Konstantin is in love with Nina (Saoirse Ronan), the beautiful daughter of a rich neighboring landowner, who has her own ambitions to be an actress. Meanwhile, Masha (Elisabeth Moss), the daughter of Irina’s estate manager Shamrayev (Glenn Fleshler) and his wife Polina (Mare Winningham), is in unrequited love with Konstantin. Also on hand are Medvedenko (Michael Zegen), a teacher who is in love with Masha, and Doctor Dorn (Jon Tenney), Sorin’s doctor and a family friend. The story takes place in two parts, a few years apart, at the same country estate.
With all its conflicting romantic interests and ambitions, it is easy to see why Chekhov described his play as a comedy. But there are grand themes of human life at play in this story. but if fact it is an ensemble drama of human longing, flaws, jealousy and ambition. The center of the action is Bening’s Irina, who has both money and ego, and uses both to control on those around her. Irina is both in denial and seized with fear as her great beauty fades in middle age, making her volatile.
Both Irina’s lover Boris and her brother Sorin are caught in her gravitational pull but the one who is most affected is Konstantin, who seeks his mother’s approval. With the innocence of youth, Nina and Konstantin seek encouragement in their theatrical ambitions from Irina and Boris. But Irina cannot bear not to be the center of attention and admiration, and jealously lashes out at both her playwright son and would-be actress Nina. Boris has his own flaws and demons, just less obvious than Irina’s. Irina’s brother Sorin is in poor health and in physical pain, while most of the other characters suffer their own emotional pain.
Bening is wonderful as this egotistical character, driven to cruelty by her fears, but the rest of the cast is excellent as well, doing as much as they can to develop both character and relationships within the compressed script. Billy Howle and Saoirse Ronan recently appeared together as star-crossed lovers in ON CHESIL BEACH, and their romantic chemistry works well here also. Corey Stoll is notable as Boris, who keeps his thoughts hidden around others but whose complex emotions play across his face is solitary moments. Brian Dennehy is good as undemanding Sorin, Irina’s beloved brother, and Elizabeth Moss just drips disappointment as romantically-frustrated Masha.
This cast is so good, that they still occasionally sneak through a nuanced moment or a compelling scene. But mostly they seem constrained to running through scenes in a mechanical fashion, as if some ticking clock is forcing them to get through it all quickly. In many scenes, one can feel the actors straining to stick to a mechanical reading of their lines. This is emotional stuff, touching on deep aspects of what is means to be human, yet the emotion is often subdued. Even if one is not familiar with Chekhov’s play, you can sense something missing and that a lot of material feels compressed into the brief running time. The question, of course, is why the hurry?
A film that looks this good should have been better. Mathew J. Lloyd’s cinematography is gorgeous and all the production values and visual aspects of the film are all so perfect and obviously costly. Not just its excellent cast, but the stunning locations – a stately stone mansion, lush green woods, fields, and lake – with period-perfect interiors and beautiful costumes. With all this care put into the production and casting, THE SEAGULL should have been a great cinema classic of the play. Instead it offers meager enjoyment, and it teases us with expectations that are dashed with its restraints on its gifted cast and a hurried abbreviated version of the great play.
It is hard to see how this script, which strips so much out of the original classic, will appeal to those who should be the core audience nor how this mechanical run-through of events will win over those who are not already Chekhov fans. Sadly, film distributors may read its failure as a rejection of the classic material, and be hesitant to take a chance of another Chekhov film adaptation, instead of the correct conclusion that a script that mangles that classic is the problem. Such a waste of talent and effort.
THE SEAGULL opens Friday, June 1, at Plaza Frontenac Cinema.
