‘A Date In Minsk’: Doclisboa Review

Dir: Nikita Lavretksi. Belarus. 2021. 88 mins.

A Date In Minsk allows director Nikita Lavretski a second chance to make a first impression. An attempt to understand and potentially re-boot a failed relationship finds Lavretski and former girlfriend Volha Kavaliova playing fictionalised versions of themselves out on a new first date. Shot in one take by Yulia Shatun, it makes for an interesting experiment that eventually blossoms into an existential musing on the director’s sense of himself, what he wants to achieve and ultimately the state of Belarus. Winning the Best Film in the DocLisboa International Competition should help generate festival interest in a niche proposition.

Often constitutes filmmaking as therapy

A prolific critic and director, once described as Belarus’s pioneer of mumblecore, the 28 year-old Lavretski is probably best known for Sasha’s Hell (2019) and A Kid’s Flick (2021). A Date In Minsk is an intensely personal project that begins with the on-screen declaration that Lavretski and Kavaliova spent eight years in a “toxic, abusive, co-dependent relationship. “ She was also his frequent partner in filmmaking adventures. We are then plunged into their “first date” which takes place over a game of pool. It is very much a getting-to-know-you encounter in which the couple initially seem shy and self-conscious with each other. There is talk of what they do for a living. Kavaliova is a games developer and  Lavretski is a former maths teacher turned cinephile and zero-budget indie filmmaker. There is something of Quentin Tarantino in his look and manner.

The couple drink a little beer, play a little pool, the conversation flows and they talk of favourite comedians. Kavaliova is a fan of British comedian James Acaster and TV series Peep Show. Eventually, they discuss “former” relationships and bigger issues with Lavretski working hard to be charming and contrite. There is almost something of the confessional in his discussion of past mistakes and regrets. “I’m bearing the weight of being a terrible person, “ he laments. A Date In Minsk often constitutes filmmaking as therapy.

The first fifty minutes or so take place entirely in the gloomy, claustrophobic pool hall where the somewhat ungainly Kavaliova proves that she is no pool player. Both seem relieved that at least they didn’t choose a cinema visit for their date. The large lights suspended over the pool tables provide much of the illumination.  Yulia Shatun’s agitated, over excited camerawork swoops and lunges, dancing around the table and whipping between the couple. There is a state of perpetual movement, perhaps reflecting the way Lavretski and Kavaliova circle each other. It creates a sense of motion sickness in the viewer that becomes something of a distraction, yet it doesn’t prevent an emotional connection to the couple as they tease and banter, moving from flippancy to sincerity. We learn of his insecurity and get the feeling that she has moved on.

There are brief inserts of home movie footage and excerpts from other Lavretski projects. When they prepare to leave the pool hall, titles come up on screen declaring A Date In Minsk. What follows is thirty minutes of post-match analysis. The couple walk through the pitch black streets of Minsk on their way to the nearest metro station. He does everything he can to prolong the moment. She is more keen to call it a day and head home. It is during this final section that the conversation grows more wide-ranging and philosophical. Their feelings for each other start to take second place to how they feel about Belarus, what responsibility Lavretski has to make films about his country and whether they should leave the country or stand their ground.

Inevitably, there are echoes of Richard Linklater’s Before trilogy as the couple stroll the city streets and keep chatting. Lavretski and Kavaliova appear to have improvised all the dialogue and it is sufficiently engaging to sustain a talky, one-take film towards a poignant conclusion.