Russian filmmaker Boris Guts has managed to create his fourth feature as a co-production between Estonia and Serbia, seemingly in more comfortable conditions than his earlier smartphone-shot films, such as Fagot and We Look Good in Death. Following his previous one-shot film Minsk, which depicted a couple struggling through the Belarusian protests, his latest work, Deaf Lovers [+leggi anche:
intervista: Boris Guts
scheda film], centres on two young people in Istanbul who click at first sight by using sign language, only to discover they are fatefully linked by their origins from two warring nations. The film is part of the International Competition of the Tallinn Black Nights Film Festival, going head to head with 18 other titles.

She (Anastasia Shemyakina) is sitting in a café with her laptop, gesturing in front of the screen, communicating in sign language. Evidently, she is deaf. He (Daniil Gazizullin) sits across from her and initiates contact through the same coded language, then quickly shifts to acting foolish to win her over. Soon, they’re sharing a bottle of champagne on a flight of steps in the street, followed by more drinks in a bar, until they’re locked in a passionate kiss. The days that follow are spent roaming the streets and lounging in hotel beds, as each of their identities is gradually uncovered. She turns out to be a Ukrainian girl who fled the destruction; he, a Russian boy who escaped mobilisation – each carrying their own emotional baggage. Sign language becomes a veil for the national identities that divide them. Will they unite or be driven apart, these two souls on either side of the barricade?

The festival synopsis suggests the film is “challenging the cliché seen in many films that love conquers all”, but the plot actually places the characters between the Montagues and the Capulets, and as we know, Romeo and Juliet do not end up living happily ever after. Thus, the denouement feels predictable, while the dialogue – not only limited by the use of sign language, but also peppered with phrases like “What do you prefer, beer or vodka?” and “Am I beautiful enough?” – is hardly appealing.

The soundtrack is much more than a mere background – it either amplifies the overwhelming emotions in which the characters are trapped or perhaps attempts to imagine the soundscape in the head of someone deprived of hearing. However, there is a cognitive dissonance between the percussive score, which subconsciously entails a more dynamic rhythm, and the sluggish pace at which the plot unfolds. It’s as if this continuous background sound is compensating for the meagre content – the drifting plot, while it could be read as a metaphor for the limbo that both characters inhabit, instead smacks of creative helplessness.

Particularly irritating is the erotic aesthetic – where it should feel passionate, it comes off as comical, and what ought to be exciting is, instead, rather lulling. After all, even an 80-minute film can feel too long; all of this could easily fit into a short format.

Deaf Lovers is an Estonian-Serbian co-production staged by Move On Prod and Max-Grip. Its international sales are handled by Antipode.