A documentary about the great composer Oleg Karavaichuk and our present-day life where there is no place for poetry anymore.
A tiny, comical, androgynous figure in an out of shape sweater, with hair more often seen on medieval miniatures than on the modern streets, in the unchanged red beret—slowly crosses the countryside. It peers into the distance, swinging its hands, as if conducting nature. Occasionally it says something—but it’s more the active gesticulating, not avoiding any loud statements about the eternal, nor ridiculous replicas about the momentary. Suddenly it is at the piano. And here it becomes clear that this funny little lump is a man.
The person is Oleg Karavaichuk and the film by Julia Bobkova—shot in Komarovo, where Karavaychuk spent most of his time—inevitably looks his will: one of the most paradoxical and interesting contemporary composers passed away just over a year ago.
Last Waltz brings together Karavaiciuk's words—who surrounded his world and, of course, his music, with a mosaic of the passing of time and the disappearing landscape—and the man himself, providing evidence of them in a format seemingly unavailable to representatives of the next generation.
The Last Waltz
Director Yulia Bobkova. Russia, 2017. 78 minutes.