Non cadrà più la neve

Beautiful fairytale with mesmerasing structure, story and acting. I loved especially the chernobyl thread.

Great storytelling, very good acting and every frame a painting. I good enjoy the way it has been shot and lit and still stay in de magic of the story. ISeeing this film was a gift.

I saw this film in my local cinema during a limited UK theatrical release, and immediately ordered a copy of the Polish import DVD so that I could see it again.

It is a very hypnotic piece of work in which the lead character, a travelling massage therapist called Zhenia (Utgoff), visits the houses of residents in a reasonably well-to-do, gated community - all seemingly dysfunctional people living detatched lives in near-identical detached houses.

Zhenia quietly dispenses therapy and a listening ear, along with occasional hypnosis to supplement the treatment. While his clients experience hypnotic dreams, he enjoys the stillness in their homes and tries to understand what makes them all tick, whilst just about managing to avoid getting too emotionally involved. He too searces his own memories, especially of his mother, who died as a result of radiation exposure in his home town of Pripyat due to the nearby Chernobyl disaster. He remembers the clouds of radioactive debris, which his childhood memories render in his dreams like snow.

But something isn't right, and in the background Zhenia is being stalked by officials, who are aware that his work permit is forged - something we see him achieve in the opening scenes of the film. He finally brings a suitably mystical conclusion to his story with the help of a favour he does for one of his former clients.

Utgoff gives a hypnotic performance, bringing an other-worldly feel to the character, and the supporting cast all create fascinating, rounded characters that inhabit the strange community he works in. The cinematography is excellent, with a chilly, desaturated palette that enhances the unsettling atmosphere of the narrative.

The film has mostly Polish and Russian dialogue, with very clear, subtitles in English in both the UK theatrical release and on the Polish issue DVD.

This is one for film lovers who (like me) enjoy a story that takes its time in the telling, and it will leave you pinching yourself at the end to check that you've not been dreaming.

Carrying a massage table and wandering out of mysterious woods, our hero, Zhenia, enters a Polish government building, meets an official in a wood-panelled office, renders him unconscious with a massage/hypnosis and signs his own residence permit. The official has a record player in the office and, as Zhenia leaves, the needle drops of its own accord and music starts.

We are surely in the presence of some magical being, here to do great and/or terrible things, right? Well, not really. All he does is become the house masseur for a gated community of McMansions with unusually tasteful interiors. He seems to be good at his job, even very good, but the only time he does actual magic is back at his drab, tower-block bedsit, and all it is is moving a glass across the table with his mind.

The trick is surely a reference to Tarkovsky's Stalker, in which the stalker's child does the same, and perhaps the point is that Chernobyl, where Zhenia grew up, is an awful real-life version of that earlier film's Zone - an area that looks like ordinary countryside, but is under some kind of mysterious, likely sinister enchantment.

It's all very intriguing, the cast of characters is comically and vividly drawn, both in terms of writing and acting, and visually it's a masterclass, every frame an absolute beaut.

But what's it all for? There's a touch, as another reviewer notes, of Pasolini's Teorema, and of the classic old short story The Distributor. But where those are about the interloper in a community determinedly bringing ruin, Zhenia, by comparison, and the film's writers, seem to lack any clear sense of purpose.

The only point seems to be a letdown: Zhenia, unable to save his mother, who appears to have died of cancer after Chernobyl, realises - particularly when one of his clients also dies of cancer - that he's not going to be able to save anyone here either. But it's not like he tried all that hard and why, anyway, did he make his focus this little enclave of privilege in Poland of all places? Sorry, but if the aim is to say something about the horror and tragedy of an event like Chernobyl, this in no way cuts it.

Maybe the point is more to say that, in the face of the world's traumas, and of serious illnesses like cancer, our modern social-media-driven culture of wellness treatments and candy-coated minimalist interiors is, well, a tad pathetic, precious and, at worst, prone to magical thinking. And, if so, well, OK, but the argument seems obvious to the point of being trite, and the consequences of the wrongheadedness don't hit home hard enough to seem to matter much.

I'm thinking it wasn't all completely thought through, and the result is, for all the brilliant detail, this thing drags terribly as it goes on.

You realise seeing stuff like this the greatness of directors like Kubrick, Lynch, Tarkovsky and Fellini, able to do the stunning visuals, but also marry them with a brilliant story. Elsewhere in the lesser reaches of the arthouse universe, the more common reality is as here: a ton of promise, but ultimate disappointment.

Zhenia, (Alec Utgoff), is a kind of itinerant masseur who's also something of a shamen. He was born in Chernobyl seven years to the day before the accident and as a client suggests he may be radioactive. He's now plying his trade around a fancy gated estate in Poland, the kind of place where the Stepford Wives might live. There's no backstory to Zhenia other than he can hypnotise people and momentarily take over their lives, (that's how he seems to have got his work permit), and Malgorzata Szumowska and Michal Englert's wonderful film "Never Gonna Snow Again" could be a Polish 'Wizard of Oz' before Dorothy came on the scene as Zhenia makes himself at home in other people's houses, bending them to his will while simultaneously becoming a little like them for a time.

'Realism' in the conventional sense is conspicuously absent. I mean, how did Zhenia get in touch with these clients, all living within walking distance of each other in this strangely bland community? What's his purpose there and who exactly is he and why can he move a glass across a table without touching it? Teasingly these are questions Szumowska and Englert want us to ask without giving us any answers.

Naturally, it's a comedy and a rather black one though it's never particularly funny. Whimsical would be a better term. It might even remind you a little of Pasolini's "Theorem" and visually it's often quite extraordinary. That it slipped by, virtually unnoticed, even in the art-house circuit, is a shame since it is totally engaging from start to finish. Do try to see it.