User Reviews

In Bodrov's Prisoner of the Mountain, Ivan (Vanya) has just entered the Russian army. He's barely uniformed by the time he is on his way to Chechnya. On the road into the mountains, the group comes under attack by a group of Chechen rebels. Vanya and Sacha are both knocked out and taken prisoner by the Chechens in the attack. One of the Chechens, Abdul, is hoping to trade the two Russians for his son, who is being held in a Russian army prison. The story that ensues shows both the cruelty and humanity that can be found in war. Both sides commit atrocities: the two captives kill the mute Hassan in their struggle as they attempt to escape—this is one cruelty on the Russian side. A Chechen father kills his son who has traded sides in order to work for the Russian police. Neither side has its hands clean. However, even in the midst of war, love can be found in this story— not just the fraternal love that grows between Vanya and Sacha, but love between enemies. Abdul's daughter Dina is kind to the captured soldiers, and in turn, Vanya shows her kindness she doesn't experience from her peers. She wants to help him escape, but he refuses to go because he knows that the rest of the villagers will never forgive her. Vanya, throughout the movie, represents an opposition to war. He never directly kills anyone, and never even learns how to properly handle a gun; even by the end of the movie, he is misfiring his weapons. When he is going to spar with the Chechen leader's nephew, he comes off as a pacifist. Even when he knows Sacha is dead, he doesn't turn to violence as a solution. A beautiful story with a beautiful backdrop, Prisoner of the Mountain is a true Russian gem.

Based on a short story by Tolstoy, Prisoner of the Mountains is a wonderful, bittersweet anti-war story directed by Sergei Bodrov. Two Russians soldiers - veteran Sacha (Oleg Menshikov) and rookie Vanya (Sergei Bodrov Jr.) are captured by Muslim rebels and kept in a remote mountain village, as Abdul-Murat (Jemal Sikharulidze) plans to exchange them with his son.

Character relationships are the core of the movie. First, the camaraderie between the two prisoners - Sacha is cocky and bitter, Vanya is young and naive. The two have nothing in common aside for their captivity, but they slowly bond, and their growing friendship is so well-acted, it doesn't come across as clichéd.

Even more interesting is the relationship between the two prisoners and their captors - Abdul-Murat, his young daughter Dina (an excellent Susanna Mekhralyeva) and their mute guard (Aleksandr Bureyev). A typical Hollywood movie would have made this sappy, but their interactions here are low-key and convincing.

Menshikov is perfect as Sacha; the actor makes him increasingly likable as he bonds with Vanya and the rebels, but never loses the character's edge. Likewise, Bodrov Jr. gives a vivid portrayal of quiet Vanya. Sikharulidze plays Abdul-Murat as a cold but decent man who occasionally shows glimpses of kindness. And Mekhralyeva is magnificent as young Dina - one of the best performances by a child actress I have ever seen.

Without spoiling anything, the bittersweet ending is powerful, effective and memorable. A must-see.

10/10

I rented this film expecting something a bit different - maybe something in the style of "Kukushka" - a story with a deep understanding of human nature, but with a feel good ending. I got an even better film.

This film sneaked into my heart slowly and quietly. Like Vanya, I grew to understand and love its characters, regardless of "sides". As the plot developed, I understood how easy it was for one side to mistake the other one's intentions; how tradition, so important for people's cultural survival, ended up working against them, fueling the fire that perpetuated the hate; how one side's disregard about the other one's culture/mentality, and the stereotypical way of looking at the enemy added to the mistrust and hatred between both sides.

The story is told with cinematic brilliance: simply, almost austerely, with tiny details that make the viewer grow an affectionate, understanding eye for the characters: little Dina, with her lonely, pure heart, adorning herself for Vanya and telling him about her grandmother's necklace, or explaining with the wisdom of a grown-up why she and he could never marry; the children and the Muslim soldiers dancing and playing according to their customs; tongueless Hassan; Vanya's mother hitting the Russian commander when she realizes his methods would get her son killed instead of rescued, dare-devil Sacha with his phlegmatic, humorous yet realistic view on life and war; the Russian Commander's appreciation for good quality food and vodka, etc. Then, there are the human interactions between the two sides: the Russian soldiers trading weapons for vodka with the enemy; the Muslim soldiers showing respect for the two Russian prisoners who managed to clear a road of mines and stay alive; Hassan procuring alcohol for the two prisoners and letting them dance and enjoy themselves, the Muslim villager asking Vanya to fix his clock...

The cinematography is excellent; the beauty of the film comes not from any artificially enhanced imaging of the beautiful, harsh landscape, but from authenticity and masterful lens work. This film is unadulterated by big budget glitzy details; one almost feels is watching a documentary of the life in that part of the world, which makes the plot of the film hit like real events would and affect us almost as if we were on that mountain too.

Many people are killed in this film, yet one feels there are no good or bad characters, only human beings locked in a conflict that perpetuates itself, because each side's quest for justice is confused with exacting retribution or revenge. Vanya and, eventually, Abdul see that, but like everyone else, they're prisoners of their own circumstances.

The film's ending tore at my heart. As the helicopters were flying towards the village, I realized that was the only logical, true to life ending. A happy end that would please the viewer, where things were clarified and Abdul's final act of humanity and compassion was not fruitless, was not possible without turning the film into a fairy tale for adults.

A complex, poignant story told in a masterful way.

Sergei Bodrov shows here that he is one of the most talented filmmakers in Russia today, with this riveting tale from the Chechen war. "Kavkazskij plennik" stars his own son Sergei jr. and Oleg Menshikov and both do a fabulous job as the Russian soldiers imprisoned by the Chechens in Caucasus.

This movie is just what the world needed at such a time-an open hearted and humanistic telling about the evils of war and the uselesness of it all. Although the Russians can sometimes seem portrayed as the better side here and Chechens as ruthless, primitive, barbaric religious fanatics, the portrayal of the Russian commander quickly erases that impression. Here we see the laid back and careless attitude that mirrors the real Russian generals' attitude.

The film is pretty tragic, from the death of Menshikov's character and to the tragic and unfortunate killing of Abdul-Murat's son, yet it leaves some hope in the end as Abdul-Murat shows pity for the young soldier whose mother has appealed for his release directly to him. But just as you think that this film will end well, the airplanes come. The ending is truly remarkable and well shot. It echoes the message of the absurdity of war and leaves us with little hope for the peace in the Caucasus.10 out of 10.

By definition this is a war film, however the vast majority of the film is something else. The main protagonist, Zhilin, is a novice enlistee, played by Sergei Bodrov Junior. Whereas Sanya, the senior officer is played by an incredibly emotive Oleg Menshikov. Both of these men are captured after being knocked out during the course of a small skirmish with local militants in the Caucasus region, and are held captive in the hope that an exchange of prisoners can be made.

War is an existential event, setting our perspectives into two options: life, or death. As one might assume, the role of manhood within this film is evident and in a sense acts as a determining factor as to who makes it out alive. Sanya shows cracks within his inner being; he goes from moments in which he is radiant with boundless energy – dancing on the roof of the aul in which they are held captive, and in another instance he is seen sobbing uncontrollably while chained to his fellow soldier. Obviously this is a perilous predicament, but Vanya (Zhilin) is able to keep a level head under this pressure of not knowing whether or not he might make it out of these mountains.

In fact Vanya is able to make friends with his captors, both Hassan and Dina – the daughter of Abdul Murad. Sanya when in his brighter moods is able to socialize and make fun of the tongue-less Hassan, and Vanya seems to go along with this. Overall it is this glimpse into the human side of war that helps to make it a good movie, but it is the ending that truly makes it all worthwhile. As a viewer you feel horrified, because you have begun to see these "mountain savages" as living breathing human beings. Given the ongoing war at the time of the movie's release, it is likely that it could have been filmed in this particular time period (before or after 1996).

In terms of rating, I would give it a 9 as it's not the most cinematographically groundbreaking film, but it does gives people a glimpse into the inner sanctum of a lesser understood culture. There are some amazing shots that show the rugged beauty of the auls, which are the dwellings carved into the sides of cliffs. Furthermore, it is possible to get a taste of the way of life – how humans regardless of nationality just want to live by whatever means possible, and that war is not something to seek out.

The film is simple, powerful and convincing. Two Russian soldiers (Oleg Menshikov and Sergei Bodrov Jr.) are captured by a Chechen father (Dzhemal Sikharulidze) determined to exchange them for his son, but the prisoners escape.

Prisoner Of The Mountains is an off-centre war story that concentrates less on the horror of conflict than the humanity, even across cultural and national divides, and successfully sustains interest. The film was awarded a Crystal Globe at the 1996 Karlovy Vary International Film Festival, and the same year was nominated for an Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film.

Prisoner of the Mountains, also known as Prisoner of the Caucasus, is a film based on two old Russian tales with the same name, both set in the Caucasian War 1817-1864: First, a poem by Alexander Pushkin from 1822 - second, a short story by Leo Tostoy from 1872, based on a real life event. And no matter how much time had passed since Pushkin had written his poem, or Tolstoy his novella, this movie still played in the same setting: In 1996, when Prisoner of the Mountains was filmed, the First Chechen War was just coming to an end, and the Second Chechen War would soon follow.

To ensure the highest possible authenticity, Prisoner of the Mountains was filmed in the Caucasian Mountains of Dagestan, only a short distance away from the then-ongoing conflict. Dagestan is a region bordering on Chechnya, with very similar traditions and customs. Seven years after the making of the film, the Caucasus Mountains would become the grave of Sergei Bodrov Junior, only 31 years old at that time. In this movie, he played the conscript Vanya, one of its two main characters. A rock ice slide took his life and that of 124 other people during work for another film in North Ossetia.

At the start of Prisoner of the Mountains, you can see many young conscripts, among them the main character Vanya, being checked for combat suitability in a hospital. With their shaved heads they resemble the slaves of antiquity, whose heads were also shaved as a sign of their status: From now on, they are property of their commanders. They have to follow their all theit orders without exception. The boys are naked and vulnerable, showing only flesh and bones, and that's exactly what they are for their generals: Nothing more than flesh which they can shape in their own interest. As you look at this beginning, any blind hurray patriotism that evokes the unity of ordinary soldiers with their army leadership is gradually being lost.

Next, you can see the second main character, sergeant Sasha, drinking Vodka until delirious. He's senselessly shooting his Kalashnikov at his own Russian Army barracks, which he's supposed to defend. Drinking Vodka before a battle has a long tradition in Russia. During WW2, alcohol was given to every Red Army soldier directly before an offensive. Sergeant Sasha however, isn't drinking 100 grams. He's drinking the whole bottle. This suggests that he doesn't drink to boost his courage. Rather he wants to block out his entire reality. With this scene, the film shows how war represents a state of a real life nightmare you constantly want to wake up from.

The next day, sergeant Sasha, still drunk, leads his men into enemy territory. This picture is an allegory for the whole Chechen War: Russian president Boris Yeltsin, famous for his many alcohol excesses , led the Russian Army, largely consisting of 18 year old boys like Vanya, into battle. Subtle allegories like this make Prisoner of the Mountains a melancholic and intelligent work of art.

Sergeant Sashas BTR-Tank gets ambushed. Chechen rebels hide behind civilians to gain military advantage. They don't care that they endanger the lives of the people whose lives they claim they want to protect. A classic paradox of war. Sashas men, inexperienced and tired, react too slow and unprofessional. Many die, the rest flee. Sasha and Vanya are left behind and captured by the old Chechen Abdul who wants to exchange them for his son captured by Russians.

Sasha and Vanya become prisoners of the mountains. In a small Chechen village, they encounter a world they don't know. Nothing has changed here for hundreds of years: People live in stone huts, there is neither electricity nor running water, boys have to prove their strength in traditional wrestling, girls are married very young, and the faith in Allah gives people confidence. The people that were filmed here are no actors but real villagers from Dagestan, the houses you can see are their real homes. The authenticity of the film is breathtaking: The viewer also feels as if he has stepped into a new world.

Alone and locked into a room, an intimate chamber play develops between the cynic sergeant Sasha and the naive conscript Vanya. While Sasha views the chechens as bloodthirsty barbarians and can't forgive them his killed comrades, Vanya sees the beauty in their culture and the kindness in their actions towards them. The same contradiction as between the views of the Russians is also evident on the Chechen side. Many of the villagers want to see the two Russian soldiers dead, while something like a friendship developes between them and their silent guardian. After Sasha and Vanya survive digging for land mines at night, the Chechen rebels that forced them to do it start to recognize their courage. Even more, the daughter of the old man Abdul, Dina, falls in love with Vanya. These conflicting feelings between the two prisoners and their hostage-takers represent the complicated relationship between Russians and Chechens in general.

Vanya doesn't want to kill anybody, but Sasha tells him that's what he must do in a war - orders must be followed, after all: "I don't want to kill them." -"You have to, Vanya. It's war." This simple scene explains perfectly how war doesn't emerge from the people themselfes, but is imposed on them from above. Mentally healthy people are very reluctant to killing other human beings. Because of the mirror neurons system in our brain, the pain that we perceive in someone else is always also our own pain. Killing members of our own species has always to be learned before it becomes a matter of course, it is not natural.

In one scene, Sasha's telling Vanya about how he once tried to make love with a woman. But before it came to that, she simply passed out - it turned out that she had narcolepsy. This story is a metaphor for all of Sasha's life - he was looking for love, but it was never returned. Vanya has a loving mother who tries everything in her power to free him after she hears of his captivity. Sasha, at the other hand, is an orphan who never had anybody that really cared for him. This is the reason he's not capable of showing love to others.

While Sasha is thinking about how to escape, Abdul arranges an exchange with the commander of the local Russian troops. The commander, however, breaks his word and brings a Russian soldier in disguise instead of Abdul's son. Just as the Chechen rebels put their own civilians in danger at the beginning of the film, the commander has no problem with putting his own soldier's life in danger. As you later can see from his richly laid table, he benefits from the war and therefore has no interest in establishing peace. When Vanya's mother begs him to do something for her son's release, he lies to her and says he has already done everything he could do.

Sasha finally manages to escape together with Vanya. Their silent guardian, whom they became friends with, is killed by Sasha as a result. As long as there is war, there can be no cross-front friendship. They have a chance to escape for good. But after Sasha kills again, this time a shepherd to get his gun, a bullet goes off and the Chechens track them down. They are captured again. Sasha is put to death immediately. The reason he killed, is the reason he's being killed. With this, the movie shows how every action has a consequence.

While Abdul is hoping for his Son to come back alive, another Chechen father shoots his son in front of the local Russian headquarters because he was working together with the Russians: A honor killing. What one man is ready to give his life for, another wants to destroy. Sometimes, life is strange. He does it with a gun a Russian soldier exchanged for Vodka at a local Chechen shop. Another dead man because of alcohol, and the butterfly-effect at its best. In the ensuing uproar, Abdul's son, like Sasha, tries to escape his prison, but, like Sasha, gets killed. Now Abdul has no more reasons to let Vanya live. The Russian Commander knows this and promises to the mother "in advance" to avenge her son. Killing people is easier to him than saving lifes, after all.

The night before his execution, Vanya has a vision. He sees Sasha. He hasn't lost his sense of humor, but there's no anger anymore: "Remind me never to escape with you again." The first time Sasha seems really happy. Death gave redemption to him who could not find happiness in life: "I am dead, but I like it. Everything is peaceful now." The film invites you to think about whether death is really always a terrible event, or if it may deliver liberation to some. A very philosophical question.

Shortly before his execution, Abdul's daughter Dina wants to free Vanya. She hates what he and Sasha have done, but she still loves him: "You are like a dog now. It's not a shame for a dog to smell bad." Yet, Sasha's example taught Vanya that freedom at any price isn't worth it. He doesn't want to live anymore if those he loves have to die because of it. He knows that the Chechens won't forgive Dina for setting him free. Like in Alexander Pushkin's poem, the girl shouts "Run!" - but he declines. Vanya simply can't. Like Sasha, he has come to terms with his death.

Prisoner of the Mountains is a calm, poetic movie about the unknown, friendship, love and the destructive force of war. An inattentive viewer can miss out on many of the subtle details and metaphors of this masterpiece, so don't look at it half-heartedly. And if you've already done it, I strongly recommend you to look at it again.