Lithuania's Divorce Amidst War: A Complex Exploration of Love, Politics, and Selfish Angst
The arrival of war in Ukraine may seem like an unlikely catalyst for a comfortable middle-class couple in Lithuania to contemplate divorce. Yet, for Marija (Žygimantė Elena Jakštaitė) and Vytas (Marius Repšys), the two very differently scaled crises wind up jointly defining a disorienting phase of family life. Writer-director Andrius Blaževičius' drily witty, subtly searing comedy "How to Divorce During the War" offers a poignant examination of both partners' attempts to sublimate selfish angst into social activism.
As Vytas, who has been stuck in a homemaker role while Marija's career soars, comes to terms with his new reality, he finds solace in joining the resistance movement. His public performance-art protests, volunteering at a food bank, and efforts to cut off his folks' access to Russian propaganda on satellite TV may appear as a genuine attempt to make amends for his own internal collapse. However, it's left to the viewer to ponder if these actions are merely a temporary distraction from Marija's increasing restlessness.
Marija, on the other hand, instructs her colleagues to press on and take in a family of Ukrainian refugees, only to regret her decision later. Her resignation from her company when it refuses to close its Russian branch seems half-hearted, while her attempt to host these newcomers may be seen as an act of convenience rather than genuine empathy.
The film's deadpan anti-rhetoric is well-served by the steady, standoffish gaze of director of photography Narvydas Naujalis' camera, which largely eschews closeups for fixed, wide tableaux, washed in the drear of late winter. The sparse, chilly score of ill-tuned piano and jittery percussion, composed by Jakub Rataj, matches the general mood of uneasy drollery.
The performances by Jakštaitė and Repšys are finely tuned and delicately ironic, pivoting between protective detachment and raw emotional release. However, it's up to the viewer to decide if these are good people reacting in human, erratic ways to bad times or if there's something more insidious at play in the compromises and hypocrisies that Marija and Vytas decide they can live with.
As the war rages on outside, "How to Divorce During the War" poses a pressing question: Can we find a way to navigate our personal crises amidst the chaos of global politics? The film's nuanced exploration of love, selfishness, and social activism will leave viewers questioning their own responses to these complex issues.
The arrival of war in Ukraine may seem like an unlikely catalyst for a comfortable middle-class couple in Lithuania to contemplate divorce. Yet, for Marija (Žygimantė Elena Jakštaitė) and Vytas (Marius Repšys), the two very differently scaled crises wind up jointly defining a disorienting phase of family life. Writer-director Andrius Blaževičius' drily witty, subtly searing comedy "How to Divorce During the War" offers a poignant examination of both partners' attempts to sublimate selfish angst into social activism.
As Vytas, who has been stuck in a homemaker role while Marija's career soars, comes to terms with his new reality, he finds solace in joining the resistance movement. His public performance-art protests, volunteering at a food bank, and efforts to cut off his folks' access to Russian propaganda on satellite TV may appear as a genuine attempt to make amends for his own internal collapse. However, it's left to the viewer to ponder if these actions are merely a temporary distraction from Marija's increasing restlessness.
Marija, on the other hand, instructs her colleagues to press on and take in a family of Ukrainian refugees, only to regret her decision later. Her resignation from her company when it refuses to close its Russian branch seems half-hearted, while her attempt to host these newcomers may be seen as an act of convenience rather than genuine empathy.
The film's deadpan anti-rhetoric is well-served by the steady, standoffish gaze of director of photography Narvydas Naujalis' camera, which largely eschews closeups for fixed, wide tableaux, washed in the drear of late winter. The sparse, chilly score of ill-tuned piano and jittery percussion, composed by Jakub Rataj, matches the general mood of uneasy drollery.
The performances by Jakštaitė and Repšys are finely tuned and delicately ironic, pivoting between protective detachment and raw emotional release. However, it's up to the viewer to decide if these are good people reacting in human, erratic ways to bad times or if there's something more insidious at play in the compromises and hypocrisies that Marija and Vytas decide they can live with.
As the war rages on outside, "How to Divorce During the War" poses a pressing question: Can we find a way to navigate our personal crises amidst the chaos of global politics? The film's nuanced exploration of love, selfishness, and social activism will leave viewers questioning their own responses to these complex issues.