Nine years away haven't dimmed the Russian master's powers in this pristine reworking of Claude Chabrol's 'La femme infidèle,' cleverly adapted to his warring homeland's current rhetoric of patriarchy.
By Guy Lodge
Plus IconGuy Lodge
Film Critic
@guylodge See All
Courtesy of MK2 Films One of the first things you notice about “Minotaur” is how much space there is in it. Uncrammed domestic interiors give the camera enough room to scrutinize details in stalking, unimpeded pans; modern gray office suites appear half-furnished and half-empty, as if the company is either moving in or dying out; public streets and housing estates are so uncrowded, it feels you could practically commit a murder in broad daylight; in a family man’s tank-like Volvo, the back seats fold down to create enough cargo space for a bicycle, or a body. Exiled Russian director Andrey Zvyagintsev‘s majestic new film may be shot by necessity in Latvia, but that country fills in most persuasively for his homeland, conveying both its aggressive vastness in the midst of a war that seeks only to further expand its borders, and its eerie depopulation, by people either fleeing or being called to battle.
Related Stories
