Masha (Marya Imbro) and Misha (Mikhail Senkov), already complementary in their names, are an extremely unusual couple. She is an aspiring model, pursuing her dream of a career in China. He works at a morgue on night shifts, but is obsessed with painting and fills his house with his own art (the paintings seen in the film are Senkov’s actual creations). Based on two true stories, acted out by the same people who lived them, White Snail is a powerful example of achieving the right blend between a great plot idea and appealing cinematic qualities. Screening in the Locarno main competition, the movie, penned and directed by Elsa Kremser and Levin Peter, also has another ace up its sleeve: it’s set in Belarus, a country that is a character in itself, enhancing the sense of loneliness and isolation felt by the two protagonists.

Thanks to the impressive use of light and the slick cinematography work by Mikhail Khursevich, White Snail boasts visuals that capture the audience with ease, despite it lacking a truly particular style per se. In fact, the peculiar story, mixed with the extremely realistic acting, is paired with a moody tone, with an emphasis on shots that highlight the physical presence of bodies, both living and dead. Misha and Masha themselves are memorable for their looks and physiques, and the repeated presence of snails – Masha’s pets – gives the feature a distinctive feel.

The most interesting element of the writing lies in the subtle yet extremely effective way in which the two characters meet and share a fraction of their lives together. The fact that the screenplay doesn’t veer towards a trivial love story, which would have weakened the power of the two as individuals, proves a successful choice, and enhances Misha and Masha’s appeal for the audience. Imbro and Senkov’s performances feel deeply authentic, stemming from the fact they are portraying their own stories, as well as remarkably convincing, as if they had spent a lifetime in front of the camera. The right amount of fiction is added to these two characters, which are perfect for the screen and only needed some capable hands to direct them.

Stephan Bechinger’s editing aids the flow of the story through the use of a parallel gaze on the two protagonists’ lives, which smoothly stitches together the scenes, in which Misha and Masha have a fully rounded presence while that of the other characters (such as Masha’s dad on the phone and her modelling friends) is minimal. The only real strong physical presence accompanying the two is represented by the corpses that populate the morgue. The pair thus bond over the course of the sleepless nights they spend with each other, with Misha showing her how he makes a living and Masha sharing her suicide attempt, which led her to become so interested in the fine line between life and death. All in all, the balance between the technical elements and the strong emotional component of the story helps to make the movie stand out.

White Snail was produced by Austria’s Panama Film and Raumzeitfilm, in co-production with Germany’s ma.ja.de. Fiction. Intramovies is handling its international sales.