A Review of Kirill Serebrennikov's "Leto (Summer)"

Kirill Serebrennikov takes audiences back in time to the 1980’s to reveal Leningrad’s bustling rock scene with his musical biopic Leto. With hints of political and social unrest throughout, Leto simultaneously feels like a commentary on the Soviet Union as well as a memorial to the songwriters that forged the path for those who came after. Well known for being particularly outspoken against Vladimir Putin, Serebrennikov creates an air of artistic restlessness in the film that feels just as relevant today as it did in 1980.

The fantastic camera work initially pulls us into the world of Leto to give us a behind the scenes look into the Leningrad Rock Club. We are thrown into the middle of a dizzying array of frantic movement as Natasha (played by Irina Starshenbaum) attempts to sneak into the club, hiding in a bathroom stall to ensure the strict manager doesn’t spot her. She successfully makes it to her seat, where we see a packed venue as the audience readies for the upcoming show.

It isn’t long before Natasha’s boyfriend, Mike (portrayed by Roman Bilyk), starts the show with his band, but the entire event feels strange. Only the slightest head nods come from the audience, as they are forced to remain seated unable to even hold up a sign without security rushing in. It’s this juxtaposition of freedom against conformity that conveys artistic unrest, especially within Mike as a character. He is a God in the small rock scene that he inhabits and wants to be a voice of discontentment like those who he admires, but is unwilling to set himself free in order to do so.

The real meat of the plot comes when Mike and Natasha meet Viktor (played by Teo Yoo), an insanely talented musician who is capable of taking over an entire room despite his reserved, quiet nature. Viktor comes to represent everything Mike is incapable of doing, which is further validated by Mike’s willingness to manage him free of charge. Based on true events surrounding actual artists Viktor Tsoi and Mike Naumenko, what follows is an in-depth look into musicians’ lifestyles in the Soviet Union moments before the emergence of Perestroika.

Few films have the ability to capture a mood in the way that Leto manages to convey a sense of vitality throughout each of its scenes. While the cinematography and sound are particularly amazing, it’s the lively energy along with an undertone of political criticism that gives depth to an already intriguing story.

The music is one of the film’s most enjoyable components and seems to be a manifestation of the musician’s dissatisfaction with the political landscape that they live in. The songs that both Mike and Viktor write maintain a level of conformity, but it’s the fantasy sing-along tunes that act as an outlet for the characters growing unrest. Given that Serebrennikov is currently under house arrest for “embezzling state funds”, the subtlety in which he chooses to approach politics is surprising to say the least, as criticism is never too overt to draw the audience out of the film.

The greatest sonic and possibly visual moment of the film comes on a train car when an angry elderly man voices his disapproval for the musician’s love for an “ideologically opposed” Western culture. What ensues is a fight turned hilarious musical number where everyone involved sings The Talking Head’s “Psycho Killer”, which works to create a sharp contrast between the beliefs of the artists and the citizens. The drawn over animation adds a level of style to the scene that is fitting considering the dream-like nature of the song cover sequences scattered throughout the film.

The film’s cinematography is absolutely stunning with wide shots and deep focus that bring life to the black and white world of Leto. At times difficult to discern from Pawel Pawlikowski’s Cold War, the black and white composition of the shots works perfectly to help convey the less than ideal world of the Soviet Union. A nice contrast comes from the color video inserts throughout the film that are intended to be footage from an in-film documentary being made about the Mike’s life.

The desires of the musicians come through with a certain vibrancy for life that is especially prevalent when all the characters are together as a collective whole. Their desire to just be alive has a contagiousness that comes through in both their actions and the music they create. This is particularly prevalent early in the film when Viktor introduces himself to Mike, Natasha, and the rest of their friends on a beach. They build a massive bonfire, chant songs together, and strip down to go skinny-dipping in the ocean, all of which create an unforgettable moment that exudes youth and eagerness.

Despite the wants of Mike and Viktor, not much really seems to happen throughout Leto. The characters play music, drink, and hangout constantly, but nothing ever comes of their frustrations. That being said, it’s fairly easy to look past the overall lack of forward progression, as the rest of the film is just so entertaining.

At points in the film, a narrator reminds the audience that what they are seeing never actually happens, which acts as a way to distance the film from a documentary; however, everything you see feels very real. This is because Serebrennikov focuses so heavily on immersing the audience in the film. You won’t leave satisfied because of the good characters or interesting plot, but rather it’s the fantastic experience of becoming a part of the Leningrad rock scene that sticks with you long after the film ends.

Cast: Teo Yoo, Roma Bilyk, Irina Starshenbaum, Philipp Avdeev, Evgeniy Servin

Director: Kirill Serebrennikov

Screenwriters: Mikhail Idov, Lily Idova, Kirill Serebrennikov

Producers: Ilya Stewart, Murad Osmann, Pavel Buria, Mikhail Finigenov

Cinematographer: Vladislav Opelyants

Editor: Yurii Karih

126 Minutes