The second in Sokurov's planned trilogy on human relations. As in Mother and Son, the atmosphere is dreamlike, hermetic and intimate, devoid of temporal markers that could distract from the primacy of the relationships. Here, the son has to part from his still youthful father who shares his worries. Sokurov calls it 'the incarnation of a fairy tale'.
Alexander Sokurov's Mother and Son had a sense of joy and love, tempered by an ominous setting in a dark forest. The second part of the trilogy, Father and Son, has no... more >
Alexander Sokurov's Mother and Son had a sense of joy and love, tempered by an ominous setting in a dark forest. The second part of the trilogy, Father and Son, has no such ambivalence. It is drenched in sunlight and bathed in a glow of greens and browns. Shot in Lisbon, Father and Son is not attached to time or place. A soldier's uniform is depicted in the latest style, while women's dresses and hairstyles are of the 40s, 50s and 60s.
Father (Andrei Shchetinin) and son (Aleksei Nejmyshev) live together on the top floor of an apartment house and have done so for many years since the death of their mother. Their world looks like a sanctuary, but may be a prison. It was while attending a school for air cadets that the father met his wife and had his son, now 20. His son's physical appearance reminds the father of his late wife, and their bond is intense and emotional. Alexei attends military school like his father who left military service against his will and wants his son to pick up where he left off.
Alexei's father is conflicted about looking for a job in a different city and seeking a new wife. They must decide whether to continue their lives together or independently. The struggle for freedom and independence is mutual but they are held together by a transcendent love. Father and Son is an enigmatic but deeply poetic film about this complex bond. While the film is open to interpretation from different cultural, psychological, or religious points of view, for me, the best approach is to avoid the temptation to analyze and just bathe in the warmth of its loving glow.
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