Den' Pobedy

Zwei Hunde ziehen ein Wägelchen mit einem Stalin-Porträt, uniformierte Kinder üben eine Militärparade ein, Kasatschok natürlich und immer wieder „Kalinka“. Es ist der 9. Mai in Berlin, die russische Diaspora feiert am monumentalen Ehrenmal im Treptower Park den Sieg über Nazideutschland. Überpräsent zwischen den Fahnen der alten Sowjetunion und der Russischen Föderation die martialischen Kutten des ultranationalistischen Rockerclubs „Nachtwölfe“ aus Moskau. Ungerührt entfaltet Loznitsas Kamera ihre erinnerungspolitisch aufgeladenen Tableaux vivants, in denen sich bisweilen mehr Gegenwart als Vergangenheit kondensiert. (Stephan Settele)

Four years after the end of the Second World War, the Soviets established a magnanimous monument in Berlin’s Treptower Park in honor of the more than 80,000 Soviet soldiers killed in the Battle of Berlin. Each year on May 9, when Victory Day is celebrated on the occasion of the Red Army’s triumph over Nazi Germany, the historical memory and its load of ideological nationalism becomes manifest in that public space/tomb of Red Army soldiers. During the course of Victory Day this historical space is portrayed by the always precise lens of the Ukrainian filmmaker. In an ascending narrative that starts with the tranquility of an average morning that slowly changes mood when things begin to agglomerate, and reach a chaotic folkloric boiling point, the very nature of this nationalist ritual is subtly revealed to us. In the same way as his recent documentaries in passive contemplation Loznitsa is able to construct a critical view. The commemoration expressed through nationalist proclamations, explosive laughters, alcohol fueled dances is how we’re confronted with a space that turns itself into an ideological demonstration, inviting us to question how close we are to what the world was like in Germany over 70 years ago. (Pedro Segura Bernal)