Film Series Explores Lithuania’s History With Communism

A still from Almantas Grikevicius's 1966 film "Time Passes Through the City," screening as part of the documentary shorts program “Cinematic Inclusions” for Panorama Europe. Courtesy of Meno Avilys

The Lithuanians did not take to Soviet domination, culturally or politically. In strange ways, they cultivated their rugged, taciturn image to help sustain their distinctive national identity. 

One can see this strategy at work in a series of short documentaries restored to commemorate Lithuania’s EU presidency. Collected under the title “Cinematic Inclusions,” these often abstract films screen together for adventurous viewers during the Panorama Europe film festival.

In observance of strict chronology, the most accessible (and longest) inclusion is the final film of the program. Not so surprisingly given their nonconformist nature, hundreds of thousands of Lithuanians were deported to Siberia during the communist era. 

The exile experience was especially painful when family members passed away, because Lithuanian customs highly value burial in one’s homeland. As the rotten communist system started to crumble, many repatriated Lithuanians returned to Siberia in hopes of smuggling loved ones’ remains back home. Algimantas Maceina followed his father on one such mission in “The Black Box.”

In part, “Box” is like a time capsule of the early days of newly independent Lithuania, but it is also an ethnographic record of Lithuanian funerary customs. However, it is not included in “Cinematic Inclusions” merely to represent the mid-1990s. 

While Maceina faithfully records the trip, as well as the subsequent wake and funeral for his grandfather’s recovered remains, he plays the footage as if on an accelerated fast-forward. At least, you cannot say that he does not respect the audience’s time, as he documents a significant phenomenon largely particular to Lithuania.

Before going further, it is worth remembering that American experimental film icon Jonas Mekas is Lithuanian. Indeed, he would most likely appreciate the avant-garde aesthetic of the rest of the inclusions. As much cinematic essays or visual tone poems as they are documentaries, they are remarkably consistent in tone and subject matter, despite spanning 27 years of frustrating national history.

In the 1960s, Robertas Verba established a template with “The Old Man and the Earth” and “The Dreams of Centenarians,” celebrating the salt of the earth while explicitly rejecting Socialist Realism. Poring over every wrinkle and imperfection, Verba’s films have a clear inclination toward grotesque fetishism. 

Not very doc-ish, they present a rather surreal perspective that becomes even more pronounced in films like Almantas Grikevicius’s “Time Passes Through the City.” 

The ambivalent attitude toward industrial “progress” reflected in Henrikas Sablevicius’s “A Trip Across the Misty Meadows” is also clearly out of step with Socialist propaganda. Yet, it is hard to get any less Soviet than the jazzy interludes that make their way into several of the films’ soundtracks.

Its execution might be a bit eccentric, but just about any viewer will get something out of Algimantas Maceina’s “The Black Box.” 

While the rest of the constituent films are decidedly more demanding, they represent a fascinating episode in cinematic history. It is good to know that Lithuania values its heritage enough to preserve them for posterity. 

Recommended for hardcore fans of experimental film, “Cinematic Inclusions” screens free of charge on Saturday, April 12, at the Museum of the Moving Image (free with regular admission), as part of this year’s Panorama Europe.

Joe Bendel writes about independent film and lives in New York. To read his most recent articles, please visit www.jbspins.blogspot.com