Director: Eugene Kotlyarenko
Writers: Eugene Kotlyarenko
Stars: Peter Vack, Dasha Nekrasova, Ivy Wolk
Synopsis: Follows the misadventures of a sexless couple, as their relationship falls into shambles in the early part of the pandemic.
Writer/director Eugene Kotlyarenko blew away the Fantasia scene after his 2020 film Spree both shocked and enthralled (virtual) festivalgoers, eventually becoming one of the year’s most talked-about films when it was released. With his latest movie, The Code, the filmmaker attempts to represent the chaos of the COVID-19 pandemic through the lens of aspiring documentarian Celine (Dasha Nekrasova) and her boyfriend Jay (Peter Vack) as they make a movie on the effects of the pandemic.
This premise seems rife for a potent exploration of how our culture’s reaction to the COVID crisis led to online chaos, especially regarding people who don’t necessarily think the virus is that big of a threat to themselves. The film certainly presents Celine and Jay’s views on COVID-19 this way, mocking people who wear masks in their cars, unafraid of shaking a stranger’s hand, and taking absolutely zero precautions on attempting to avoid catching the virus. Of course, this film is set in the earlier days of the pandemic and with much of the knowledge on COVID still unknown, this self-centered behavior is a topic that hasn’t been explored in any movie that dealt with the reality of the pandemic so far.
Like Spree, Kotlyarenko uses the digital world to represent the alienation of Celine and Jay’s relationship during COVID, creating a wholly unique texture through hidden cameras, Zoom, FaceTime, GoPros, drones, 360 cameras, text screenshots, and, of course, plain ol’ Sony XDCams. The language constantly refines itself and keeps trying to find new ways to showcase how the couple’s sexless relationship is driving them apart during the pandemic. I especially love how Kotlyarenko constantly reminds us that the film we’re watching is a meta-narrative even in its more sweeping moments.
He always points the cameras in obvious directions and continuously shows us how a scene is pulled off. This, in turn, makes its meta-narrative far more involving than if it was purely shown to us inside Celine’s diegesis. But we keep seeing the creative process in front of us, which, in turn, gives us more reason to be immersed in the film the ‘creators’ are making. However, Kotlyarenko makes the cardinal mistake of replacing a potent commentary on how façades are created within Celine’s digitized world with hollow provocation that is deeply offensive, trite, and unfunny.
Kotlyarenko did the same thing with Spree, but he at least had something to say on how online culture encourages exploitation. In the case of The Code, he expands upon Spree’s thesis by stating that online culture encourages exploitation, artificiality, and alienation. Yet, he never tries to explore this thesis with a culturally-averse lens, even if he utilizes TikTok filters, and rapid editing techniques worthy of influencer culture to showcase how low culture has become. Yes, our culture is at an all-time low: scientific literacy is being scoffed by people who believe online gurus, either from the anti-vaccine or the Zero COVID crowd, influencers have now a bigger control over their fanbase and can make them do whatever they want, and egotism is now at the center of most people’s belief systems.
Kotlyarenko showcases how truly clueless these chronically online people are, and he did get a chuckle out of me when one of Celine’s friends says that “COVID’s the big thing. I’m sure it’s gonna be a big hit.” Of course, Celine’s goal isn’t to make movie on COVID, per se, but to capitalize on the human tragedy of the crisis for her personal gain. In one scene, she interviews a woman whose father is about to pass away from the disease. Rather than sympathize with her and feel compassion, Celine and Jay film her until she breaks down so hard she is hitting herself on the glass. It’s all about exploitation and artificiality, never about compassion.
And yet, with such a powerful commentary on how online culture alienates and distorts, Kotlyarenko never delves deep enough for us to care about anything he’s saying because, beyond the provocative scenes of Jay attempting to get Celine to say the N-word (as he wants to show how problematic of a person she is) or one where they visit an escape room, he has nothing of interest to say about any of the themes and characters he presents. How does Celine perceive the COVID crisis beyond the façade she wants to create for her documentary? How does Jay perceive the crisis and his relationship with Celine? Kotlyarenko explores these questions at a surface but never gives us the keys to interpret his answers since his characters are stuck in a cyclical rut of underdevelopment at every turn.
It also doesn’t help that Dasha’s performance is truly risible and never in tune with the self-ironic tone Kotlyarenko adopts through his aesthetic (and silly music). She’s nowhere near the level of emotional complexity Ilinca Manolache brought to the screen as Bobita in Radu Jude’s Do Not Expect Too Much from the End of The World, a satire with a biting edge that had something to say, not only on COVID, but on how online culture is a deeply artificial façade that is never indicative of the real-life alienation Angela experienced beyond her Bobita avatar.
We don’t get the same personal detachment in The Code, because it’s all artificial. Perhaps this was the point, but it gets rather trite and irritating quite fast. Instead of having the opportunity of saying something, anything, about how online culture has made discussions on COVID completely impossible to assimilate, Kotlyarenko fills his movie with as many vapid provocations as possible in the hopes to get strong reactions out of the audience.
Perhaps it did play well at Fantasia, but the lack of interest in exploring anything it presents completely killed the momentum its opening scene built up. Even with a reverse Radu Jude handwritten credits from Do Not Expect Too Much from the End of the World (end credits inside the digital environment Celine and Jay created as opposed to going back to the traditional, primal roots of cinema), Kotlyarenko’s movie will never hold weight to the impeccable satire Jude drew on how society’s enshittification will lead all of us to our doom.
