Stephen Porzio takes flight in his review of Butterfly City at the IFI Documentary Film Festival.
Rarely has a place seemed so tailor-made to be the focus of a film than the town of Visaginas, Lithuania. Created from nothing in the 1970s by the USSR for the purpose of a nuclear power plant, it attracted a large Russian population drawn to new jobs and hopes of prosperity. However, the collapse of the Soviet Union and Lithuania subsequently joining the EU, led to the plant’s closing. With Visaginas’ growth stymied and 25,000 Russian speakers in the area unemployed, the local population struggle to deal with issues such as national identity, citizenship and a sense of home.
In terms of doing justice to Visaginas, director Olga Černovaitė only partially succeeds. Butterfly City is visually impeccable. The overhead shots of lakes and forests – the film gets its title from the city resembling a butterfly from above - look vivid and feel vast. Meanwhile, early passages in which the camera slowly glides through the wide floors and narrow corridors of the abandoned power plant feel atmospheric and unnatural – evoking the sensation of a dystopian sci-fi. One scene in particular reminded me of the long driving sequence in Tarkovsky’s Solaris, something perhaps intentional as both films share themes regarding disillusionment between humans and their technological advancements.
However, Butterfly City struggles to balance a Koyaanisqatsi-esque tone-poem with the more typical documentary beats. The narrative ntroduces such engaging characters - a team investigating the nuclear plant’s impact on the ecology, a young wedding video editor with punk sensibilities who wants to rejuvenate the town, a local music teacher - but doesn't always follow up on them. These story elements are punctuated by slow, sometimes fascinating scenes of social observation - occasionally we hear USSR folk songs and wedding celebrations but these often linger for slightly too long.
This is likely intentional by Černovaitė. She has clearly an eye for a good shot, and these languorous scenes do evoke a sensation of stagnation, mirroring a city trapped between the past and the future, struggling to move forward. However slower pacing could challenge viewers expecting a more narrative-driven flow.
The IFI Documentary Festival runs from 27th September to 1st October 2017 .
