Andrey Zvyagintsev has given us some sharp insights into Russian culture and society in recent years. After rising to international prominence with 2003’s THE RETURN, his last two films – ELENA in 2011, the story of a woman attempting to provide for her descendants, and LEVIATHAN in 2014, where a man suffers misfortune upon misfortune in a corrupt coastal town – have offered ever more abrasive insights into aspects of Russian society. His latest film LOVELESS represents both the peak of that dark examination of contemporary Russia and of Zvyagintsev’s already impressive career.

An early dialogue exchange references the end of the world, not at the hands of the despotic madmen in charge of the planet in 2017 but to the end of the Mayan calendar, placing the film in 2012 and just a few months into Vladimir Putin’s second spell as Russian president. Against the backdrop of changing Russian society, LOVELESS examines the nature of failing relationships through the breakdown of a family. The parents Zhenya and Boris (Maryana Spivak and Aleksey Rozin) are in the throes of a messy divorce, and one argument too many tips their son Alyosha (Matvey Novikov) over the edge as he runs away to escape both their fighting.

LOVELESS plays out over many levels, each of which have something to say about modern Russian society. Dad Boris is trying to find ways to migrate to his new relationship with his already pregnant girlfriend without his strict employers getting wind, while mum Zhenya has already traded up for a richer model with a swanky apartment. When their son disappears, initially it’s just another inconvenience in their lives, an unwanted child that’s been little more than a nuisance. The layers of family contempt run deep, as we also see Zhenya’s mother display a similar contempt for her own progeny.

LOVELESS also plays out like a perverse thriller…

This is wrapped up in a procedural drama which exposes the ways in which Russian society cares for its own citizens; caring in the loosest sense of the word, of course. It becomes readily and dishearteningly apparent how easy it is for a boy such as Alyosha to slip through the cracks. The police are portrayed as useless, but a well-drilled group of local volunteers set about the task of finding the young runaway. Zvyagintsev and his regular script collaborator Oleg Nevin cleverly weave the two aspects of the story together, showing the distance and alienation endemic in Russian life at both a societal and a personal level and how, despite a surface appearance of affluence, there’s an inescapable darkness ready to swallow up anyone at a moment’s notice.

LOVELESS also plays out like a perverse thriller. The film makes an early grab for your heartstrings with a single shot which perfectly captures Alyosha’s utter despair at his situation, and from there the film never lets up. As the search pushes out into the countryside, the decay of the landscape and the buildings serves as a strong contrast to Zhenya and Boris’s current living arrangements, with cinematographer Mikhail Krichman’s icy gaze helping Zvyagintsev’s masterful grip on the tension. There’s never any release on the despair, and a coda with Boris’ new family is just one reminder that Russia is repeating the mistakes of the past and failing to learn. The only contrast here is in Zvyagintsev’s career, which continues to go from strength to strength. LOVELESS is certainly an appropriate title, but while love may be hard to muster for this film, a deep and lasting admiration should be much easier to find.