The unhappy union between the composer Pyotr Tchaikovsky (Odin Biron) and his wife, Antonina Miliukova (Alyona Mikhailova), is the jumping-off point for the latest film from the Russian director Kirill Serebrennikov (Petrov’s Flu). But like Ken Russell’s The Music Lovers, which explored the same story back in 1971, this film has only a passing acquaintance with the historical facts of Tchaikovsky’s turbulent life. While Russell’s film took the (admittedly entertaining) route of vulgar excess, Serebrennikov’s exploration of the story has a feverish, hallucinogenic quality. The marital disaster zone is populated with a chorus of naked Russian hunks; it features a talking corpse and a climactic dance sequence. It’s a punishing watch at times: the film’s cruelty towards poor deluded Antonina is only matched by that of her husband. But the ambition of this headily febrile revisionist period piece is admirable.
It starts with the death of the composer. Stricken and gaunt, Antonina forces her way through the crowd of whispering mourners – we are besieged throughout the film by disorienting snatches of conversation. She makes her way to her husband’s deathbed, only for the dead man to sit up and berate her. Having placed a large question mark over her lucidness, the picture rewinds to the beginning of the one-sided love affair: an unnoticed, invisible Antonina gazes adoringly at the dashing, bearded man at the piano. It’s clear to anyone with eyes that Pyotr’s tastes lie elsewhere (there’s a Derek Jarmanesque theatricality to scenes that introduce us to the composer’s circle of exclusively male friends). But Antonina’s obsessive love blinkers her from the truth, with tragic consequences for both.
