THE STORY – Follows Russian journalists from TV Rain who fled their country after being labeled “foreign agents” by Putin’s regime. Now scattered across Europe and beyond, they continue reporting on Ukraine despite espionage charges.
THE CAST – Anna Nemzer, Valeria Ratnikova ,Ksenia Mironova, Elena Kostyucheko, Yana Kuchina, Irina Dolinina, Alesya Marokhovskaya, Peter Ruzavin, Nataliya Gumenyuk & Sonya Groysman
THE TEAM – Julia Loktev (Director)
THE RUNNING TIME – 355 Minutes
Last year, when most of the world discovered the sprawling epic documentary “My Undesirable Friends: Part I – Last Air in Moscow,” there was a palpable sense of intrigue about what had been captured. There had always been a sense of danger for certain Russian citizens who dared to speak out against the injustices committed by their government. But here, director Julia Loktev embedded herself with a group of journalists whose mission was to bring the truth to light in the face of such overt corruption and oppression. It was a commendable exercise, inspiring to see such dedication in the face of such obstacles. Many around the world, especially in the United States, watched that perseverance with great admiration as their own national moods shifted toward a future that dangerously resembled what was playing out. As the previous film’s title suggests, this story was far from finished. Now we arrive at “Part II – Exile,” which sees the fallout from a dangerous escalation. Like its predecessor, it is yet another showcase of brave individuals facing daunting obstacles. It is both an intriguing and exhausting exercise but still consistently captivating.
The first edition of this story focused on this group of journalists and reporters who took aim at Putin’s regime and his fascist tactics to squash any dissent against his administration. Several individuals were followed, each with harsh critiques of the government. Those criticisms grew louder in the lead-up to their country’s invasion of Ukraine, an act that spoke to the strong protest against such an unnecessary and illegal act of war. Tensions had risen so high that all those who worked at TV Rain, the independent news channel, were deemed “undesirable” and labeled as foreign agents. With their arrests imminent, most of the crew fled the country. Now, they continue their work to broadcast the true corruption that is occurring, and the personal toll is only increasing. The group is now splintered, working in a wide variety of countries that can take them until their temporary status expires. New conflicts emerge through this process, especially when confronting new sets of rules in host countries, as well as the general stress that comes with such a nomadic lifestyle. However, it’s difficult to truly squash that spirit, and these individuals persevere through these difficult circumstances.
As in the first chapter, director Julia Loktev successfully creates a sense of intimacy with these individuals. Her camera can sometimes feel intrusive in these moments, but it also shows her ability to blend seamlessly into the group and capture every harrowing moment with authenticity. The mad dash to escape Russian territory once the order of their combative status against the government is issued shows confusion and desperation, but we also glimpse the courage and tenacity instilled within the group. As time marches on, and the war continues to expand, another tension starts to brew. The hostility towards Russian citizens around the globe turns antagonistic, and these journalists describe the painful dichotomy of wanting to agree with the sentiment of brandishing their home as the source of atrocities while also reeling from the international backlash. As one reporter describes the situation, it’s like being perceived as both Hitler’s German government and the marginalized groups they targeted. It puts into perspective the harsh reality they’re living through.
It’s also fascinating to see where these personal stories take themselves in the aftermath of everyone fleeing. Some continue to persevere by simply extending their reporting, like Anna Nemzer, who must also deal with a bout of personal indignities. Lena Kostyuchenko describes the hardship of continuing to move locations with such uncertainty, and her observation of American culture proves prophetic. She pleads with American observers during a book tour in 2023, warning that the rise of fascism could strike anywhere, as we later see scenes of Donald Trump’s inauguration. One of the few people with a relatively stable life is Petya and Natalka, a married couple who have built their life in Ukraine. It’s ironic for such stability to come from a nation at war, but they manage to present a side of domesticity that is endearing, particularly when viewing their playful banter with each other. Eventually, Petya volunteers for the Ukrainian army, willing to put his physical safety at risk in an effort to defend the freedom of his neighbors. It’s a significant escalation, but one that reveals how not everyone in this group agrees on the most effective tactics in this fight against the regime. It’s a more layered portrait, captured with an engrossing perspective.
However, the sprawling narrative can certainly become exhausting throughout the nearly six-hour runtime. Loktev’s aesthetics offer no flash at all. We are treated to her camera following these events, and whatever drama is perceived comes from the characters’ actions, not the filmmaking. Even the chapter breaks that are presented occur abruptly without a sense of surging momentum to continue the story. For as intimate as the scenery is, it feels muted in amplifying the cinematic potential of this material. It’s what can make some of the tangential storylines overstuff the already grueling endeavor. A spat between the exiled group and the Latvian government over a statement perceived as pro-Russia has some interesting maneuvering at play, but it also comes across as an extended semantic argument that distracts from the more consequential actions other journalists are experiencing. Little is done to streamline this section or add any flair to make it a more distinctive viewpoint. The film’s style is monotonous, which can make even the more captivating aspects blend together into an overlong experience.
It takes the film a bit to really get going, even though it is compelling documentation. However, the death of Alexi Navalny is one event that rocks so many to their core. Even though there isn’t an aesthetic change, you can feel a tonal shift in this story. Seeing our characters break down in tears at the loss of such a guiding figure in their opposition is truly heartbreaking, and it raises the stakes of their work even more. Even when one of the journalists creates an amusing internet video listing the ways one can become a Russian dissident in the style of a “get ready with me” TikTok, it carries an insidious undertone. As one of the reporters puts it, “death is the end of the story.” They may show resilience, and even smiles, in the face of such peril, but the threat remains very real. There is documentation of poisoning and assaults, but a dark cloud hangs over as a chilling reminder of the danger they face.
One of the final title cards at the end of “Exile” is meant to explain the whereabouts of the many participants at that moment. It ends with a haunting notice that they may be somewhere else by the time the audience sees the film. It underlines the rapidly evolving situation they are all forced to accept. The important work being witnessed is being done without the reliable foundation of a home country. Their current situation is at a crossroads of dichotomy. The urge to report the horrors being inflicted by the Russian government directly causes the current hardships, exacerbated by a complicated global interpretation of the work. It’s enthralling to see these shades of nuance as they fight a war on many fronts, and no matter how worn down they become, the importance of their mission remains steadfast. It’s an inspiring portrait of collective resistance in the face of oppressive evil, one that goes a long way to compensate for the lackluster filmmaking and tedious pacing. The conclusion feels definite for the film, but there is no question that these journalists continue to do vital work. Whether an audience sees them in action again is a mystery, but their bravery in pursuing this challenge under extraordinary circumstances is not in question.
