(Latvia/Estonia/Poland, 90 min.)
Written and directed by Laila Pakalniņa
Starring: Antons Georgs Grauds, Vilis Daudzins, Wiktor
Zborowski, Andris Keiss, Liena Smukste, Girts Krumins, Rudolfs Plepis, Ivars
Brakovskis
Dawn, Latvia’s
submission to the Best Foreign Language Film category at this year’s Academy
Awards, ends with a horse taking a casual shit as a team of farmhands walks towards
the rising sun. The camera holds on the offending—nay, poetic—turd for a
generously lingering moment as chickens flock to it. Bathed in the glowing
morning light, which looks heavenly in the wonderful black and white
cinematography by Wojciech Staron, the horse patty offers a warm meal for the
chickens. They nibble on the steaming turd as the workers march into the
distance and their hymn to Soviet Latvia provides mealtime entertainment before
the credits roll. Tsai Ming-liang, eat your heart out.
A long take of chickens eating shit probably isn’t the cup of tea for most Academy members and it’s safe to say that Dawn is an acquired taste. This eccentric and impressionistic tale from writer/director Laila Pakalniņa is a demanding film experience, but it’s a novel one filled with memorable images and striking compositions that far outweigh the erratic events that transpire on screen.
Dawn thrusts
viewers into an allegorical collective farm where young worker Janis (Antons
Georgs Grauds) sees collaboration and fair distribution as key elements to a
strong community. The film pits idealistic youths against tough and oppressive
elders, like Janis’s father (Vilis Daudzins), who refuse to yield to change.
They work, they toil, they fight, and they prosper. There’s a little playing
and a lot of fighting, and the dawn of communism is a hard battle for the new
generation.
The film emphasises the suffering of the people with stark
images and some brutal mob mentality as the leaders of the community resist a
balance of power. With no clear plot to follow and a large mass of characters
all toiling with poverty and the prospects of change, Dawn favours a series of impressions rather than a clear statement.
The film bears obvious influence to classic Soviet cinema and its appeal seems
best to kinophiles who relish Eisensteinian tempos and off-kilter imagery. It’s
a film of bizarre sights and strange palpably symbolic actions, and one might
do better with the film after taking in a bit of research since Pakalniņa provides
little context. The excellent cinematography, however, ensures that Dawn is a consistently admirable film
experience even if it borders upon nonsensical and at time inaccessible. This
little animal farm is one odd duck.
