“Captures the spirit of aimless youth in a way that is both extremely resonant and slightly disconcerting.”

A model who wants to die meets a mortician who desperately tries to avoid thinking too much about death – this unconventional pairing is the foundation for White Snail, the third paired directorial outing of Elsa Kremser and Levin Peter (as well as their first narrative feature). It tells the story of Masha and Misha, two lonely young souls living in Belarus who encounter each other by chance when the former is called in to identify a body. They discover that, despite entirely different temperaments and backgrounds, they have quite a bit in common, which leads them to form an unexpected friendship that eventually flourishes into a budding romance. However, complications arise when they each discover that the other has slight ulterior motives in pursuing this relationship, revealing some of their deepest and most unsettling insecurities in the process. A fascinating and well-crafted drama that tackles harrowing themes in a manner that is oddly heartfelt and sincere, White Snail is a peculiar film, but one that does quite well in establishing its core themes, capturing the spirit of aimless youth in a way that is both extremely resonant and slightly disconcerting. Built around some complex ideas that the directors gradually chip away to reveal the harrowing realities faced by seemingly ordinary people, the film is an absorbing drama that is both a stark social realist text and an unsettling parable about life, death and the various challenges in between. 

Death is one of the few themes that we can consider universal when it comes to looking at art, especially since it is a subject that no one truly understands despite its inevitability. White Snail centres around the topic, exploring the dynamic between two people who are consistently thinking about death, albeit in very different ways. The film shows how they eventually influence one another, challenging them to expand their views while also struggling to reconcile their own complex emotions. There are some intriguing techniques used here that we often find in coming-of-age stories – lonely individuals find themselves learning about life and its harsh realities through enduring certain challenges that redefine their perspective. The difference here is that the settings change considerably, with the film taking place in hospital rooms, morgues and a range of other places that no one would expect to find in a story about two young people navigating the early stages of adulthood. It gives the film a sense of originality as well as equipping it with several distinct qualities that the directors manage to utilise exceptionally well as the film progresses and becomes more bold and daring. We find that there is an increased focus on the feeling of entrapment experienced by the two protagonists – their moments together are effective, but it’s those when they are in painful isolation, pondering their existence, that leave the most significant imprint as we follow them on their individual journeys of self-discovery and healing.

The directors’ origins in non-fiction filmmaking are made quite evident in White Snail, which focuses on delivering its ideas with a stark, matter-of-fact approach that we often find definitive of their specific brand of documentary storytelling, in which there is little room for flowery artistic posturing. The themes are made obvious without room for even an ounce of ambiguity, which allows it to be clear about its intentions, developing key ideas while also finding time to make a range of other observations that are just as meaningful. The film is shrouded in a sombre tone, the drab colours and rigid compositions creating quite a downbeat atmosphere. This aligns with the themes that are being explored, the directors resisting any temptation to trivialise the experiences of the two protagonists; they are complex individuals defined as much by their discernible qualities as they are by their vaguer origins. The film is very careful not to reveal too much about the characters or their intentions at first, and instead allows their identities and existential quandaries to be gradually revealed as they get to know one another. The viewer is put in a position where we peer into their interactions and watch this flourishing companionship built on a shared fascination with death. Marya Imbro and Mikhail Senkov are exceptional leads, bringing Masha and Misha to life while handling their complex characters with sincerity and a firm commitment to making them appear as fully formed individuals in their own right.  The chemistry between them is palpable, and despite playing radically different characters they come to complement one another, embodying the many nuances of the story and allowing its central themes to be communicated effectively.

White Snail is a somewhat difficult film, but for reasons that have less to do with the simple plot and more with the execution of its ideas, which make it a challenging work whose reward is being able to garner valuable insights into the lives of these characters as they attempt to navigate a world where they don’t quite feel like they belong. The similarities between these two characters reflect the directors’ fascination with corporeality – the focus of this film is on bodies, and there are a number of scenes that are genuinely quite shocking, such as lengthy depictions of the brutal treatment models endure in an effort to attain perfection, or the scenes set inside the morgue in which the process of conducting an autopsy is discussed in detail. It can sometimes be disturbing, but the overall experience is worthwhile because the level of commitment to exploring the layers that define these characters makes it a far more engaging experience than it is a morbid one. Kremser and Peter have a distinct approach, defined by a blend of curiosity about the human condition and pessimism towards the state of the world, all of which facilitates a film that is not afraid to push boundaries and investigate the more complex recesses of the human soul. We are aware that everything this film is saying is meant to unearth the secrets that linger beneath the surface of everyday life, as well as showing that some of the most meaningful connections are found in unexpected places.