“I wonder, will we really be able to, in dozens of years, to laugh and shed senile tears over these days? Then the earth will swallow us up, and our names will be obscured with fog”

There are many ways to describe An Unfinished Piece for Mechanical Piano (Russian: Неоконченная пьеса для механического пианино) – as a satirical dark comedy, a towering literary adaptation, a heartfelt romance and a bleak statement on the machinations of the class system. Nikita Mikhalkov’s films are all layered experiences, deeply compelling journeys into the epicentre of the human condition that refuse to be pinned down to one particular set of ideas. This is precisely what made An Unfinished Piece for Mechanical Piano such an extraordinarily complex piece, albeit one that doesn’t ever feel as if its approaching pretension. Based on Anton Chekhov’s unnamed play often referred to by the title Platonov, as well as several of his other short stories, the film takes on many of the playwright’s most significant themes and weaves them into this varied tapestry that is often very funny, but carries a sense of deep melancholy that tends to come when exploring this era of Russian culture. Caught somewhere between the height of the tsar, and the impending threat of its rapid decline just a few decades later, there’s a sense of nostalgic urgency pervading through this film, almost as if Mikhalkov is implying that we should look closer at what’s being depicted on screen – far from just a boisterous tale of the affairs of the high society, An Unfinished Piece for Mechanical Piano is a haunting piece of meta-commentary that is entirely self-reflective, venturing deep into the soul of an entire generation that saw the fundamental fabric of their lives changed over the course of only a few decades. Whether this was for better or worse depends on the viewer’s discernment, with our interpretation of the message conveyed by Mikhalkov being implicit to the experience of decoding this absolutely astounding piece of cinema that manages to be far more profound than expectations could have lead us to believe.

Mikhalkov does something quite fascinating with this material – he begins it as a theatrical piece, making great use of its stage origins by thrusting us into a particular location (in this case a beautiful but dilapidating mansion in the Russian countryside), and gradually introduces us to the various characters that will be players in this production. The responsibility thus falls equally on the director (and screenwriter Aleksandr Adabashyan, who had to work with Mikhalkov to ensure the various narrative strands of Chekhov’s work were seamlessly put together, rather than being a disjointed mosaic of bold themes and poor execution) and the actors to realize these characters and make them interesting. Chekhov was a masterful playwright when it came to constructing stories, but his work often gave actors free-reign to interpret his characters in their own way, which has lead to many actors across the past century to take their own distinct approaches to the material. An Unfinished Piece for Mechanical Piano is certainly not any exception, and so much of the value that comes in this film is carried in the intricate work being done across the board. We come to be familiar with these characters, without actually penetrating them morally or psychologically – they remain elusive for the entirety of the story, with only glimpses into their various vulnerabilities manifesting as the story unfolds, and we come to see the roles they play in the broader narrative. Mikhalkov demonstrates remarkable restraint in their regard, and consistently insists that we take up our own place at the table throughout the film – we’re passive viewers, pushed into the position of observers into this irreverent human comedy that traverses some very serious matters without ever feeling as if it is attempting to be a convoluted or heavy-handed morality tale, content to be an elegant portrayal of meaningful interactions between individuals, which makes a substantial difference considering where this film eventually takes us.

This is indeed one of the most substantial merits of An Unfinished Piece for Mechanical Piano – it manages to be so effortlessly simple in both theory and execution. This is quintessentially the product of an artist who understands precisely what made Chekhov such an enduring writer, adopting is unique blend of wit and melancholy and disseminating it amongst an ensemble of characters who are distinct based on their own individual eccentricities, but bound by some common metaphysical thread, which draws them closer to together. However, to attribute everything that is remarkable about An Unfinished Piece for Mechanical Piano to the playwright is a great disservice to the director, since he was only merely inspired by Chekhov, using his work as a starting point for what was to become a poignant tale of the boundaries between external wealth, as represented by material possession, and the internal poverty, which manifests through these characters’ desolate response to the world around them. It’s hardly a surprise that the film feels like a work-in-progress, and intentionally so – the house is falling apart, but less as a result of neglect and more from the idea that it was never completed in the first place, with certain small details feeling out of place, which is most evident in the arrival of the titular piano, which can carry a gorgeous tune, but only to a certain point, after which the incompletion becomes so very clear. This is a profoundly fragmented film that gradually looks deep into its own composition, searching for resolution with the understanding that one doesn’t need to seek elsewhere for the answers that come from within. It’s an abstract concept, and sometimes can feel like we’re reaching at straws – but there’s something so much more interesting underlying this film than just the story of a dozen wealthy representatives of the bourgeoisie meeting for a weekend of raucous discussion and festivities, and the gradual manner in which we see these preconceived notions fall apart make An Unfinished Piece for Mechanical Piano an undeniably powerful piece of cinema.

The director approaches this material from the perspective of describing feelings and sensations, rather than telling a story – despite having a very strong plot, what keeps the viewer engaged with An Unfinished Piece for Mechanical Piano is the way it evokes certain emotions, inviting us to commit ourselves to the strife of these characters. Perhaps we may not be able to relate to them on a visceral level – not many of us can attest to being a part of 19th-century Russian aristocracy. However, this becomes almost inconsequential when we realize that this isn’t what the film is about at all – it’s seeking to cut to the core of the innate ennui that comes with carnal dissatisfaction. Each one of these characters has everything they could hope for, but as the film progresses, we start to see the cracks in their perfect lives. It’s self-reflective to the point that it not only looks at itself, but also compels the viewer to look inward as well, and as a result isn’t afraid to make some bold statements, without seeming overwrought in any way. Despite the heightened grandeur of this film (which should not be underestimated at any cost – the work being done by cinematographer Pavel Lebeshev is absolutely astonishing, with certain shots of this film being truly exhilarating in their beauty, but not to the point where it overwhelms the story, rather complementing it perfectly), Mikhalkov is insistent on situating this story within the realm of what we can not only understand, but also implicitly relate to in some way. The discussions these characters have at first appear to be superficial and meaningless – their trials and tribulations are fascinating for anyone hoping for insights into the machinations of the upper-class in the pre-revolution era. However, as the conversations decline in pleasantries, so does the need to demonstrate one’s own status. Gradually, we find these characters bordering on neurotic, scrambling to find some deeper understanding of the world they realize they no longer recognize.

Mikhalkov is not afraid to shade in this story with darker nuances, which not only affords the film the chance to be far more compelling than had it merely been a direct transposition of Chekhov’s work to the screen, but also allows the audience to actively engage with what’s depicted on screen. Inspired less by the direct words Chekhov put to paper, and more the spirit of his life and career, An Unfinished Piece for Mechanical Piano isn’t merely a story of rich people feeling bored and dissatisfied to the point of questioning their own existence, as facilitated by a series of well-placed existential crises, but rather a deeply moving portrait of the human condition, beautifully curated by a filmmaker who keeps everything on the fundamentally human level. Like many great works of period fiction, this film feels almost painterly – Lebeshev composes each frame with the delicate touch of the great romantic painters, and the screenplay is brimming with an achingly beautiful poeticism that gradually unfurls in the most sophisticated manner as this story progresses. A multifaceted demonstration of a few days in the life of the gentry, an unremarkable group of individuals that don’t possess any discernible qualities that would keep us engaged at first, but gradually prove themselves to be exceptionally complex characters in their own right. An Unfinished Piece for Mechanical Piano is a film that shows insecurity masquerading as formality, which it slowly dismantles, eroding the sheen of grandiosity that define these situations, and reducing it to the most basic level, which intermingles with the more lavish aspects of the story to create a disquieting tapestry of human inadequacy, rendered with nothing but fragile grace and earnest dedication to a premise that was undeniably more challenging to execute than we realize, but proves to be so incredibly compelling, it’s impossible to not have some aspect of the film – a line of dialogue, a particular shot or expression from one of the actors – linger with you afterwards, which is truly the indication of a film achieving exactly what it set out to accomplish. Rhapsodic, melancholy and deeply moving, An Unfinished Piece for Mechanical Piano is an unabashedly moving film that takes us on a gorgeous metaphysical journey, and makes sure to leave us with some thought-provoking souvenirs that will most certainly be cherished.