Compartment No. 6 (2022)
Directed by Juho Kuosmanen
Compartment No. 6 is an internationally co-produced movie filmed entirely in Russian with a tiny bit of Finnish sprinkled within.
Laura (Seidi Haarla), a Finnish archaeology student, travels to Moscow to learn Russian and experience the culture. There she meets the exuberant Irina (Dinara Drukarova), a typical Russian intellectual, who invites her into her life and bed. For a short time, Laura’s life becomes a whirlwind of museums and galleries, as she immerses herself deeper and deeper into Irina’s world of stimulating soirées filled with smoking, laughter, dancing and amazing conversations. After Irina introduces Laura to the Kanozero Petroglyphs, a series of rock drawings from the 2nd and 3rd Millennium B.C., located on the Kola Peninsula near the arctic city of Murmansk, she is fascinated and they plan to go there together. At the end, Laura ends up going alone, due to Irina’s waning interest in her and the trip.
The movie begins at a party in Irina’s apartment, the night before Laura’s departure to Murmansk. Irina, always the center of attention, introduces Laura to everyone as “her Finnish friend” and congratulates her on going to see the petroglyphs, at which point one of Irina’s many acquaintances says that it’s “important to see and understand one’s past, to better understand the present”, to which Laura seems to agree. From Laura’s perspective, we get a glimpse into the inner workings (and failings) of Moscow intelligentsia; an inherently cerebral, unempathetic world that seems quite alluring at first glance, with witty conversations and a deep knowledge of literature and culture, but then turns out to be petty and empty.
We’re introduced to Irina, a professor of literature, while she’s playing a guessing game of book quotes. There is no reflection on the quotes themselves, but an immense pride in the skill of rote memorization. The game also doubles as a cruel test of belonging, as Laura, after giving an incorrect answer, is patronized and snobbishly corrected. Within this framework the notions about the past and the present become nonsensical, as, from Laura’s perspective, she won’t learn anything about her own present or past, while looking at the drawings. This crowd clearly doesn’t think it worth getting to know her or ask her any questions. They are uninterested in anyone who they deem unworthy of joining - in this case someone who has an accent and therefore no full command of their revered language.
Classist ideas permeate Russian culture at large, and the one that’s still happily propagated is the stark division of the intelligence and the working classes, which is also tied to their respective usage and understanding of the Russian language. The working class is crude, uneducated and, in intelligentsia lingo, “gray”, as opposed to the enlightened academically trained intellectual. As in most classist structures, these intellectuals make being part of their class their entire personality, with inside jokes and strict rules of entry and belonging. In a way, the movie shows and outsider’s perspective on this behavior and tries to challenge this harmful set of beliefs.
On the train ride from Moscow to Murmansk, which takes 3 days and 2 nights, Laura ends up sharing a tiny compartment with the gruff and uncouth miner Lyokha (Yury Borisov), who’s a perfect example of a “gray” man. He sets the mood by taking out a half-finished bottle of vodka as soon as he enters the compartment and asks Laura, whether she’s going to Murmansk to “sell pussy”, within an hour after departure. Disgusted, Laura makes up her mind at an interim stop in St. Peterburg and calls Irina to tell her that she’s decided to go back. Irina, in turn, seems uninterested and even reluctant to entertain the idea. Hurt and angry, Laura doubles down on her commitment to the journey and returns to the train.
Russia is a big country, and finding yourself on an overnight train ride that can span several days with a stranger is an inherently Russian experience. Cramped into a tiny compartment for days, you eat and drink together, experience the highs and lows of the commodities afforded by a Soviet train together, and, often, talk for hours. Knowing that you’ll never see that person again erodes personal inhibitions one tidbit at a time, until you open up to air decades-long grievances or to share long-forgotten joys. Laura looks at this uniquely Russian experience from the outside and slowly warms up to it, as the journey becomes the destination.
At the beginning of their relationship, Laura and Lyokha strictly adhere to the rules and restrictions of their respective social circles. Lyokha, a sensitive man, doesn’t show any emotions, except for confident brashness, to protect himself from a society that doesn’t value emotionality in men. Despite the fact that the intelligentsia took great pleasure in correcting her and was never interested in what she had to say, to a point where she started doubting her own thoughts, feelings and actions, Laura still wants to be part of that group that instilled in her the inherent distrust of the working class. When Lyokha asks why she wants to see the petroglyphs, she directly quotes the man from the party, showing that she really doesn’t know, except that someone smart said it.
Laura clings to the hope that seeing the petroglyphs will change how she and, most importantly, Irina, feels about herself. Lyokha, meanwhile, is on his way to work, hoping to find a way out of perpetual poverty and a lifetime of petty theft, avoiding to think about how a lack of human connection might be at the root of his problems. Both are desperate for basic understanding and support, at first shunning each other, due to their seemingly insurmountable class-based differences. After, setting aside some those, however, they end up bonding over previously unexplored commonalities and desires.
At one point Laura invites a Finnish traveler to their compartment. Lyokha, seemingly jealous, is visibly insulted and suspicious of the newcomer, while Laura is glad to have someone to talk to in her native tongue. Language again, being the main factor of belonging. They don’t get along great, but for a while she holds on to him, as the only lifeline to something familiar. As the man departs, however, she finds out that he stole her video camera that had all her memories of Moscow and Irina on it. Taking the last remnants of her old life, but simultaneously opening her up for change.
Devastated, she ends up telling Lyokha about her relationship with Irina, which she kept a secret due to the fear of homophobia. She admits that she loved how Irina looked at her more than Irina herself, and that she doesn’t miss her as much as she would like to, and how she loved the idea of being a part of this apartment, the conversations, the world, knowing that she never belonged. Lyokha just listens, without interruption or judgement.
At the end of the train ride, Laura and Lyokha grow closer, even kissing at one point, after which Lyokha, looking visibly uncomfortable in the intimate situation, disappears and Laura disembarks alone. At the hotel, she is told that it’s impossible to go to the petroglyphs in winter due to the harsh weather conditions, confirming that Irina, who booked the trip and the hotel, never really intended to travel there. After touring the city, Laura, not ready to depart, manages to contact Lyokha and he, determined to help her one last time, organizes the trip to the Kola Peninsula by the sheer power of his will and skills of persuasion.
The petroglyphs now a mere afterthought, they wander around in the snow storm, playing and laughing like children. Friendship and love become one, as they depart, having both found closure and a tidbit of happiness amid the frozen lakes. In the last bittersweet moments of the movie Lyokha confesses his love for Laura, as she speeds away in a taxi.
A formulaic, but tender movie, Compartment No. 6 implores us not to waste time on societal norms and to find connection in the unlikeliest of places.