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I like the storyline of this show,it attract me so much

Really Surprised!

This is a gorgeous movie made by a gorgeous spirit.

The acting in this movie is really good.

The two and a half hour run time didn't seem like much, given how absolutely captivated I was by the breathtaking images in this film. Many of the shots were so beautiful, and more importantly, meaningful, that they reminded me of some of the great oil paintings I've had the pleasure of observing as an art connoisseur. The scene of the children asleep on the train in their parents clutch portrayed a powerful sense of innocence and security, foreshadowing what feelings would soon be put to the test.. Or the shot of Vera in a virgin-blue colored dress, sitting in contemplation on her bed. The usage of color gives rise to a new definition of "pastoral": of the quality of a pastel. These being just two of many examples of how such stunning imagery works in the film's favor and remaining entirely relevant. Yes, the beauty of the film was even enough to keep me viewing, even when I started to lose my comprehension and understanding of what was going on in the final thirty minutes of the actual plot. When this occurred, I was left wondering if I was really so short sighted or if the director made something that was simply "complicated" and required a second viewing. Upon research and reflection, it appears there is nothing at all complicated about the story. If anything, the confusion was a result of how shrouded in mystery the wife's actions were. This, along with the sneakily added flashback scene at the end. It took a while to even realize I was watching a flashback and it was almost intentionally tricky to follow. This was frustrating as I had invested two hours of my time into the movie only to be thrown into a mild state of confusion at the last minute. But even if you agree to label the flashback criticism as my own inept comprehension, let me come back again to the real source of frustration: The wife's actions. I simply cannot fathom how anyone in their right mind (haha, I just realized mid sentence that maybe she WASN'T in her right mind). And, oh my god... I don't think the women in the adapted novel this was based off of was in her right mind either! Actually, of course she wasn't in her right mind! She killed herself and her baby for Pete's sake! This explains everything! *Please forgive my real time realizations mid-review, perhaps this will serve as more enjoyable or enlightening for any readers. I write these in part to enhance my own understanding.*When I first became aware Alex was in fact the biological father, I was in shock, and almost disgusted with frustration over how Vera told him that "it wasn't his." "How stupid could she be?" I thought? Why would she NOT deny Alex's misguided thought that she was adulterous? Who in their right mind would do such a thing?! And that's the AHA! moment! She WASN'T in her right mind at all! And that, my peers of the internet, solves the enigma that is frustrating even the most astute of reviewers. It is so simple actually...As simple as a shot of water coursing through dried-up Earth.And boy am I glad...because when I first saw this movie I was pouring over reviews trying to find reason and accountability for Vera. It took my own serious reflection with THIS written review to realize it. And...maybe I'm wrong? Maybe my realization is just as inept as my first-watch comprehension ability? But for me, my interpretation makes sense...With a reason discovered for Vera's actions, the movie's narrative becomes as beautiful as its cinematography... I recall one of my favorite movies ever, Tarkovsky's Zerkalo, to be in a similar vein: Demanding from it's viewer.

Russian screenwriter and director Andrey Zvyagintsev's second feature film which was written by screenwriters Oleg Negin and Artyom Melkumian, is based on a novel from 1953 called "The Laughing Matter" by Armenian-American author William Saroyan (1908-1981). It premiered In competition at the 60th Cannes International Film Festival in 2007, was shot on locations in Russia, Moldova, Belgium and France and is a Russian production which was produced by Russian producer Dimitry Lesnevsky. It tells the story about a man named Alexandr who lives on the Russian countryside with his wife Vera, their daughter Eva and their son Kir. Besides visits from their neighboring family and Alexandr's interactions with his friend Mark, Alexandr and Vera lives a rather quiet life with their young children and seems happy all though they barely talk to each other, but one late night after the children have said their prayers and gone to bed, Vera surprises her husband with a shocking confession that leaves her despaired by his reaction. Distinctly and masterfully directed by Russian filmmaker Andrey Zvyagintsev, this rhythmic fictional tale which is narrated from multiple viewpoints, draws a consistently involving and heartrending portrayal of a man whom withdraws into a reflective state of mind and avoids his wife after learning something that she has kept hidden from him. While notable for it's naturalistic and distinct milieu depictions, sterling production design by production designer Andrey Ponkratov, masterful cinematography by Russian cinematographer Mikhail Krichman, fine costume design and brilliant use of sound and colors, this character-driven, narrative-driven and humane psychological drama where an intangible mist creates a distance between a conflicted married couple, depicts two interrelated and internal studies of character and contains a cryptic score by composers Arvo Pärt and Andrei Dergachov.This mysterious story which examines themes like family, marriage, grief and reconciliation, where the real drama goes on behind the faces of the quiet though expressive characters and where Andrey Zvyagintsev leads his camera like Tolstoy wrote his words and Rembrandt painted his canvases, is impelled and reinforced by it's cogent narrative structure, substantial character development, esoteric characters, the children's powerful presence, excellent editing, melancholic atmosphere, cinematic poetry and the low-keyed and prominent acting performances by Russian actor Konstantin Lavronenko and Norwegian actress Maria Bonnevie. A cinematographic and hypnotic journey into man's searching mentality and a metaphysical masterpiece in the spirit of Andrei Tarkovsky (1932-1986) where a singular universe is created by the sounds of falling raindrops, birds singing and trees moving in the wind.

There is no doubt that the measured beauty, both savage and majestic, is superbly and evotically captured by the cinematography of Mikhail Krichman, from start, to finish, both nodding to and taking hats off to, undoubtedly, Tarkovsky.However, what started out as the short story 'Laughing Matter' by American writer William Saroyan, unfortunately gets swamped by the visual bravado and a two and a half hour run-time. It gets to being on the cusp of something big, or something profound that might explain what's going on - but that may be the trick that The Return director Andrey Zvyagintsev wants.With its gorgeously slow tracking shots and weaving camera angles, that follow this troubled family who now are in hiding in one those idyllic Russian country houses on a windswept plain and with their own walnut grove, there lies an intensity that is palpable, brewing away quietly. This is helped by a sparse score, notably a slightly electronically treated 'monk' sounding choral piece that rises like a sullen mist.Lead actor, the Father of the family, Konstantin Lavronenko, picked up Best Actor at Cannes. His wife, Eva, announces one day that she is pregnant and through studies in male supposition and pride, family bonds and shady past dealing contacts are tried - and tested. What unravels, slowly, are the various connotations resulting from these and their actions, on both them and their existing children.My four stars are really for the sense of unfulfillment - it's neither oblique and enigmatic enough that a Tarkovsky would be but it's obvious there's a story bursting to get out and I for one would be rather happier if it weren't shrouded in quite so much masked mystery - however beautiful that mask might be. There is little dialogue, very little violence and I don't recall any strong swearing, but through some strong visuals, possibly of body injury, it's a certificate 12.For followers of Russian cinema, old and new, then The Banishment is certainly worth watching and for those like me who enjoyed Zvyagintsev's The Return, it's almost a must. The critics were largely underwhelmed and I so wish I could say that this is a masterpiece, but sadly, it's not quite.

Andrei Zvyagintsev's second film "The Banishment," if evaluated closely, could arguably be as interesting as his first film The Return, if not better. Both relate to related concepts "Father" and "Love/Absence of Love." In both films, there are few words spoken.To evaluate "The Banishment" is like completing a challenging crossword puzzle. You would know this unusual situation if you have seen "The Return." To begin "The Return" was not based on a novel. This one is. That, too, a William Saroyan novel—"The Laughing Matter." Yet the director is not presenting us with Saroyan's novel on the screen. He develops the wife as a woman "more sinn'd against than sinning," while in the novel she is mentally unstable. Understandably, the director decides to drop the Saroyan title. Thus the words "I am going to have a child. It's not yours" provides two utterly distinct scenarios depending on whether the woman who speaks those words to her husband is a saintly person or a mentally unhinged woman. The change in the character of the wife by the director opens a totally new perspective to the Saroyan story—a tool that contemporary filmmakers frequently use, not to wreck literary works, but creatively revive interest in the possibilities a change in the original work provides.Those viewers familiar with the plethora of Christian symbolism in "The Return" will spot the painting on which the children play jigsaw is one of an angel visiting Mary, mother of Jesus, to reveal that she will give birth even if she is a virgin. This shot is followed by a black kitten walking across the painting. And the forced abortion operation at the behest of the husband begins on Vera, the wife in Zvyagintsev's film. By the end of the film the viewer will realize that the director had left a clue for the viewer—not through conventional character development using long conversations."The Banishment" is representative of contemporary cinema provoking viewers to enjoy cinema beyond the story by deciphering symbols strewn around amongst layers of meaning structured within the screenplay. As usual, the cinema of director Zvyagintsev is full of allusions to the Bible. This is the third famous film that refers to a single abstract chapter in the Bible on love: 1 Corinthians Chapter 13. In "The Banishment" the chapter is read by the neighbors' daughters. In Krzysztof Kieslowski's "Blue", set to the musical score sung towards the end of the film a choral musical piece sings the words "If I have not love, I am nothing" from the same Biblical chapter commenting indirectly on communication breakdown between husband and wife and the slow and painful reconciliation with the husband's lover. Bergman's "Through a glass darkly" is a phrase on taken from the same chapter of the Bible, a film also on lack of communication and love between father and son, husbands and wives.The banishment alludes to the banishment of Adam from the Garden of Eden represented in the film by the anti-hero's tranquil family house, far from the inferred socio-political turbulence elsewhere. Soon after the wife's proclamation we see her children playing with the jigsaw puzzle depicting an angel appearing to Virgin Mary, mother of Jesus, that she will bear a child. These clues indicate to the viewer that wife was innocent. In the movie, these are but a few of the dozens of symbols and metaphors that extend even to the selection of classical music. As usual, the cinema of director Zvyagintsev is full of allusions to the Bible. The banishment alludes to the banishment of Adam from Eden represented in the film by the anti-hero's tranquil family house, far from the inferred socio-political turbulence elsewhere. A black kitten crosses the jigsaw puzzle and tragedy follows. These clues indicate to the viewer that wife was innocent. In the movie, these are but a few of the dozens of symbols and metaphors that extend even to the selection of classical music Bach's Magnificat or the "Song of Virgin Mary". There is washing of the brother's bullet hit arm, reminiscent of Pilate washing his hands in the Bible. While the story and structure of "The Return" is easier to comprehend, "The Banishment" is more complex. The first half of the film entices the viewer to reach the wrong conclusions. The Father is correct, the wife is wrong. The second half of the film surprises the viewer as all assumptions of the viewer made from the preceding episodes are turned topsy-turvy. Men are arrogant, egotistical and father children without love. There is no love in the silent train journey of the family while the wife is looking at her husband with love. Like Kieslowski's "Blue" the woman appears stronger than the man—and in an apt epilogue its women (harvesting a field) who are singing a song of hope and regeneration.A supposed major flaw noted by critics is the lack of character development. In this film, Zvyagintsev develops characters using silent journeys (lack of communication) and misconstruing of reality ("child is not ours"), very close to the storyline of the director's first film. Actually, Zvyagintsev progresses in this second film by extending the relationship of "Father and children" in the first film, to "Father and wife" in the second. In the first film, children do not understand the father; in the second, the father does not understand his wife. When he does it is too late, just as the kids in the first film of the director. This is a film that requires several viewings to savor its many ingredients of photography, music, and screenplay writing. Zvyagintsev is not merely copying directors Tarkovsky, Bergman and Kieslowski—-he is exploring new territories by teasing his viewer to "suspend his/her belief" and constantly re-evaluate what was shown earlier.