People in society often tend to comply with certain norms and principles with complete disregard for their own wishes and desires. They find themselves in the whirlpool of ‘performing’ certain institutionalized roles to fill up the structure of the society – roles, that care the least for their own hidden emotions and move towards the bigger objective of fulfilling a form or a structure.
In this selfless pursuit of this ‘performance’, at some time, their hidden emotions, thoughts, and insecurities tend to surface, ultimately initiating a difference or conflict in the existence of this binary. What follows are the everlasting effects and consequences of this tumultuous situation that can change the lives of the concerned individuals forever. Andrey Zvyagintsev’s The Banishment is a tale of such effects and the resulting influence it can have on people’s lives.
What is ‘The Banishment’ About?
The Banishment is a 2007 Russian film directed by Andrey Zvyagintsev. It stars Konstantin Lavronenko as Alexander/ Alex, Maria Bonnevie as his wife Vera, Aleksandr Baluev as Mark, Maxim Shibaev, and Katya Kulkina as Kir and Eva respectively. In the film, we see Alex, with his family, pay a visit to his childhood home situated in the Russian countryside, far away from the mainland congested by industries. They find themselves in the pastoral landscape devoid of commotion and the claustrophobic environment of the city.
The frames capturing the picturesque landscape become reminiscent of Andrei Tarkovsky’s Mirror (1975) and several other films. We find Alex, with his wife Vera, along with their children Eva and Kir slowly immersing themselves in the serenity of the tranquil region until Vera discloses to Alex that she is pregnant but “it’s not his”, which tears apart Alex’s state of being. From there on begins the struggle of the couple to gather stability beneath their feet; their actions and intentions become imperative for the film’s narrative to progress.
Silence and Melancholy Forming the Narrative’s Core
As the film unfolds itself and we get a glimpse of the family in the center, one thing becomes quite conceivable at the very beginning, that is, the apparent absence of spoken words. Barring the climax, the majority portions of the film feature a very small number of dialogues, compelling the audience to be more patient and attentive to the progress of the story. But, this lack of words does not create any hindrance in the journey of the film’s narrative.
The inherent silence pauses hardly seem out of place and succeeds in creating a melancholic tone, a recurring style in Zvyagintsev’s films from the very onset of this film. It offers a mood that becomes apprehensive of something more darker and sinister than what can be seen. The entire milieu set with this aspect becomes suggestive of the suppressed discomfort between Alex and Vera, which eventually reveals itself in the following sequences.
City vs. Countryside
The family’s shift from the city to the countryside produces the difference between expectation and reality. The general tendency is to escape from the exhaustive, chaotic nature of city life and imbibe tranquillity in the countryside amidst nature. But in The Banishment, it seems that Alex and Vera’s shift from the city to the vast wilderness is actually enabling them to shed their roles and reveal the discomfort and hidden conflict out in the open. Conflict, that has crept up already in their lives while living in the city- the growing sense of ‘Lovelessness’, a recurring theme in Zvyagintsev’s films.
The bleak, pale greyish color tone of the frames covering the industrial sites, montages of smoke coming out of the chimneys, and machines and cranes hovering around the air, penetrating the dull sky create a visual discomfort that craves space to breathe in fresh air. This entire scenario projects a very confined livelihood for the couple: a life once built on love, trust, and compatibility, now is shrouded with the smoke of deafening silence.
Performing Roles and Emotional Disconnect
Alex and Vera, till the point of her disclosing her state to Alex, seem to be just ‘performing’ with reluctance. They appear to be abiding by the roles they have taken- The role of being a husband and a wife and parents to their children. They are affectionate to their children but hardly communicate with each other.
The sequences with little or no dialogue deliver a subdued outburst of their own state of timidity, submissiveness; a certain detachment from each other, and perhaps a cry for help. It seems they both have created their own distinctive worlds – Alex after performing his ‘duties’, moves out to meet his elder brother Mark, who is engaged in some unlawful activities, spends time with him or just simply drives around the village countryside. Meanwhile, Vera is found to be alone, succumbing to her own thoughts in one corner of the house with no one to console or be with her.
Visual Metaphors and Symbolism
The frame capturing her sitting on the porch under the dim light after seeing off the guests is suggestive of the darkness invading her life. She is found at one side of the frame- enforcing a disproportionate ratio, looking away from the darkness of the night, perhaps, for hope but seems like it is only a matter of time until emptiness completely enwraps her. Her state of abandonment unifies her with the desolate state of the old childhood home of Alex. The shabby wooden walls, and old structures with a touch of pale blue paint the life of Vera who is also found in a blue dress signifying her unfortunate banished state of being and pretty much foreshadowing her destiny in the film. (It is necessary to watch the film in order to find out.)
Communication Breakdown and Isolation
The couple is found in a constant situation of contemplation and longing for something else. There are multiple scenes where the communication gap is evident between the two, but still somewhere lies the hidden urge to share something with the other, which some unknown force prevents them from doing. Several frames start with both of them present in them, but the uniformity is lost soon after Alex abandons the frame, leaving Vera alone.
The nature surrounding them also vehemently points out the expected stability in the beginning and the eventual passivity as the film progresses. The region provides vastness to be explored for the family and they engage themselves in certain activities in bits and pieces, but it slowly turns out to be a symbol of the impending emptiness, the vacuum that will soon invade the lives of the couple. Zvyagintsev brilliantly executes a metaphor in one scene to depict the state of their relationship. In the scene, Kir, their son, after noticing the dryness of the drainage spout, asks his father:
Kir- “Dad, why isn’t there any water in the spring?”
Alex- “God knows why.”
Kir- “Did it dry out?”
Alex- “Seems like it.”
This conversation between the father and the son pretty much summed up the current situation. Spring comes with rejuvenation, joy, and hope for a new beginning, but it is the opposite in their lives. It has dried up like a drainage spout with no flow of water. The relationship between Alex and Vera has come to a halt, incapable of moving forward.
Time and again, we come across frames that focus on the growing distance between Alex and Vera, with neither of them able to reduce it and come closer. This distance
becomes insurmountable to an extent where Alex is found in the outer world strolling around in the pastoral vivacity and Vera remains imprisoned in the house and looks out of the window, standing alone, in search of hope.
Andrey Zvyagintsev does not divulge the reason behind this growing detachment between the husband and wife. He just explores the forthcoming effects and eventual consequences in their lives. It also seems unimportant to excavate the absolute reasons behind such animosity as Zvyagintsev repeatedly finds perplexed, confused households habituated in a city surrounded by pessimism that prevents them from leading a peaceful life. He focuses on the subsequent actions of the characters dwelling on these problems and their capabilities in navigating their lives through the heap of uncertainty.
His other film, Elena (2011) also showcases the plight and the persisting discomfort that a family with a proletariat background experiences living in a city populated by industrial sites. The family is seen to be living in a very small flat, with limited accessibility to basic amenities. The coexistence of common people and the surrounding industrial chimneys project an erratic, congested, scattered lifestyle of the city dwellers. The growing difference in class also poses a threat to the prosperity of these people, tempting them to take darker paths.
In The Banishment, Andrey similarly showcases the subdued bitterness in city dwellers Alex and Vera’s life and solidifies the growing resentment with the news of pregnancy. It tempts Alex to think of his wife’s betrayal; the possibility and the sheer certainty of Vera’s involvement in an extramarital affair resulting in this pregnancy completely shatters his life and drives him further away. Moreover, when Kir recollects in front of his father that he, with his sister Eva, once saw Robert, Alex’s friend, alone with their mother when they returned home, the suspicion of infidelity transformed into a reality for Alex.
Time as an Unyielding Force
Time plays an integral part in The Banishment. The characters always find themselves at the crux of several moments, ultimately failing to respond to the cycles of nature. There is a sense of restlessness when Alex and Vera co-exist in a frame. They never face each other, avoid eye contact, evading any possibility to establish communication. Eventually, as mentioned earlier, either of the characters exits from the frame and any chance of reconciliation is demolished owing to the shortage of time.
The impermanence of the passage of time is not only conceivable in these frames, but also in the verbal expressions in this film. Perhaps, the most poignant dialogue of the film: “I am pregnant. It’s not yours.”, suggests this very idea. It appears to be indicative of the generic understanding of betrayal and mistrust in the beginning, but as viewers move with the characters, they realize it to be symbolic of the passing of time. Time, that is needed to be in one’s true self, to be patient and present in a relationship.
At the later stages of the film, in a flashback through Robert’s mind, we see Vera herself confiding in him that the unborn child is in fact their very own child, (nullifying the growing suspicions of her infidelity), but not has been conceived in happier times. It is not the result of the pure relationship that Alex and Vera once constructed with love, but the unfortunate consequence of a now ‘dead’ one. They have fallen out of love.
She tells:
“He loves us just for his sake. Like objects”
Vera, in that very scene, while going through the old childhood pictures of Alex and his family, tells Robert: “See, these photos are a mess. We never have time for this.”
She admits that time has flown away from their grasps, it has corroded their bond, generating a sense of ‘lovelessness’. They have been incapable of preserving the past memories, and the lost times and have no other option but to repent. She is perplexed and demoralized. It is clear from her emotional outburst that the bonding she once shared with Alex has now perished with the passage of time; time, that never stops for anyone. And this very idea of the fragility of time threatens Vera’s growing inhibitions for the future of her unborn child, forcing her to say-
“I don’t want to give birth to death.”
The Banishment of Love and Hope
The piece started with the quest of exploring the effects of this sense of ‘lovelessness’ owing to the convoluted lifestyle of these characters. It now ends with the decisive feeling of loneliness and abandonment that kills the spirit and soul of a struggling individual. Andrey Zvyagintsev’s The Banishment offers a season of spring that comes without the fragrance of exuberance and the hope of a new life. In fact, it is the season of spring that has been banished forever from their lives.
The stream of evergreen love seems to have dried up perennially. What remains is the barrenness accompanied by impenetrable darkness, shrouded by sorrowful music. Vera’s life has come to stagnancy, rigidity compelling her to embrace confinement within herself, much like the only noticeable solitary tree with green leaves amidst the pale, dull countryside; green leaves, that become reminiscent of a new life growing inside Vera and the calm shelter that Alex in the end,, can seek. Because, as it has been stated earlier, time does not wait for anyone and leaves some chances of repentance for the people who have allowed negligence to happen in their lives.
I am Sayan Dutta, from Kolkata. I completed my graduation and masters in English from Calcutta University. I am a teacher as well as a singer, who specialises in songs of Rabindranath Tagore and apart from reading books, have also simultaneously developed a close affinity with films. The lockdown made me expose myself to world cinema and the journey so far has been nothing but exciting and enlightening: eventually motivating me to put down thoughts on paper. That a tale told through audio-visual format can actually transcend the boundary of the virtual and real world and can embrace thousands of viewers still excites me and eventually motivates me to excavate more of this cinematic language.