A gritty presentation of the decay of family values and human dignity in the wake of Soviet communism, Vasili Pichul's 1988 film Little Vera is a landmark film of modern Russian cinema. Pichul's brutal drama marks a strong departure from the images of sanitized idealism promoted in Soviet times (as in Aleksandrov's Circus), brashly moving the social chaos of his time into the public spotlight. A contemporary Ukrainian setting further intensifies the effect, first by the immediacy of the film to its time period, second by its utilization of a locale not only struggling for identity in lieu of a Soviet system, but also as a nation distinct from the Russian idiom that had dominated the U.S.S.R.
Vera, the film's title character and protagonist, is a rebellious adolescent girl with a "dysfunctional" family including a hard-drinking father and a mother care-worn. Rejecting her would-be beau Andrei, Vera begins a destructive (and primarily sexual) relationship with a college student named Sergei. Despite her parents' dislike for the lazy Sergei, and despite Sergei's rude contempt for her parents, he moves into their cramped apartment. Tensions escalate until Vera's father drunkenly stabs Sergei. Vera must decide if she will stay loyal to her intolerable family by testifying her father acted in self-defense, or continue to support and defend the ever-detached Sergei.
Unbearable in almost every imaginable way, Little Vera masterfully captures and communicates the inescapable void left in social life after the collapse of communism. The sexual aggressiveness of the film (it was the first film to show explicit sex) combined with the unrelenting presentation of social reality (a marked distinction from the socialist realism demanded by Stalin) effectively confronted the conditions of former-Soviet life. Most interesting, however, was public reception. While many wrote hate mail to the director and star, the film was wildly popular. Here the double-edged nature of "film as social criticism" emerges: if done correctly, the film will make the audience uncomfortable. Because no easy solution presents itself, some viewers will hate the film and filmmakers for "bringing up" the issue. Many films come to mind as somewhat comparable in this regard: Larry Clark's Kids, Harmony Korine's Gummo, even popular movie's such as John Hughes' Breakfast Club.
I recommend this film to those viewers for whom the prospect of nearly two hours excruciating domestic conflict and social miasma is not overly daunting. The film is absolutely beautiful, and incredibly challenging. Despite the difficulties of watching the film, some moments within it are profoundly beautiful. Of course, the socio-historic and cultural significance of the film cannot be overlooked, and in fact operate as an even more assertive reason for watching this film.