Sergei Loznitsa‘s Two Prosecutors, which I saw last night at the Salle Debussy, is a drably effective tale of bureaucratic cowardice and malevolence in 1937 Russia, during “the height of Stalin’s terror”, as a title card informs.
It’s basically a flat, slowly paced anti-drama about a naive young prosecutor (Aleksandr Kuznetsov) who tries to push for justice in the case of a political prisoner who’s been unjustly persecuted by the NKVD (aka The People’s Commissariat for Internal Affairs).
We know from the get-go, of course, that Kuznetsov’s Kornyev will not only fail in this quest but probably suffer persecution himself. This is precisely what happens in the end, so apart from Loznitsa’s exacting dialogue, Kuznesov’s quietly compelling performance, a much more theatrical one from Aleksandr Filippenko and Oleg Mutu‘s formal framings, there’s really not a lot to write home about.
You’re sitting there saying “Jesus, does Kornyev have any street smarts? He’s putting his own head into a noose and it’s just a matter of time before he’s arrested,” etc.
Loznitsa’s basic idea is something along the lines of “even in Stalinist Russia, there was no stopping a naive young man who wanted to see justice done, even if he knew deep down that he was asking for it.”
I was fine with Two Prosecutors as far as it went, but it could have been a more absorbing thing. No twists or turns, no brief flashes of hope, no unexpected moments. Nothing really happens except for the fact that Kornyev keeps trying to push his case. An intelligent, well-mannered idiot….congrats and enjoy your prison time!
Two Prosecutors was shot in 1.37 to 1…here’s how the Debussy screen looked last night before the lights came down.
