Andrey Iskanov’s Ingression

Andrey Iskanov’s Ingression

Directed by: Andrey Iskanov

Russia, 2010/2012

Horror, 100(ish) min. 

There’s a lot of pain in the films of Andrey Iskanov, mental suffering, torment of the psyche and torturous frustration. Iskanov constantly returns to these themes film after film, like an explorer of human distress. But he does it in his own unique way, as he blends horror themes, surrealistic imagery, violent bursts of juxtaposition and clashing contrasts laced with layers of eclectic editing.

Andrey Iskanov's Ingression (formerly known as The Tourist) sees the final bookend of the HalluCinoGeNnN trilogy made up by Gvozdi (Nails) 2003 and Visions of Suffering 2006. They do not share a chronological narrative, but more so themes and visual/audio style. They are movies that deal with strong topics, and are filled with strong imagery. It’s no understatement that this trilogy of films is challenging and demand a lot from their audiences. Where many would display their special effects and violence up front, Iskanov hides it under ferocious distortion, intense editing and walls of provocative audio. Iskanov’s films leave their audience drained and exhausted.

A few days ago, Iskanov granted me the interview we have been talking about conducting for quite some time now, and we ended up talking for a massive four hours about his films, storytelling, the unique style of his films and how people receive them. Without hesitation I can say that my respect for Iskanov’s films, craftsmanship and working situation grows deeper for each time I speak with him and unearth more insight into his philosophy, aesthetics and obstacles in the way of his film making.

Fans who might have caught Ingression at the B-Movie, Underground and Trash Filmfestival in Breda, Netherlands, or the HÕFF in Estonia a few years ago, will be interested to learn that Iskanov has gone back into the movie and reshot most of the first act. This forced him to reshoot all scenes of featuring his leading lady, as she wasn’t available for reshoots. After the festival cut, with a impressive running time of 159 minutes, there was also some controversy surrounding scenes of violence aimed at a child. Something Iskanov decided to remove after harsh critique from fans and industry. 

“This was before Serbian Film was released; realistic violence and murder against kids was not completely accepted or understood by fans. Members on horror forums wrote some really bad reviews, and I got a lot of angry mails. Even some of the actors started complaining and wanted me to take their names from the credits. Distributors once again commented that the film was too long and that people cant didn’t have the patience with movies that long. (As a referent to the four and a half hour long Philosophy of a Knife), 
 so I removed the original ending and shortened the film to around 100 or 110 minutes.”

Taking place in an utopian future on the brink of political chaos, Alex [Iskanov regular Svyatoslav Iliyasov] is on the brink of self-destruction. His wife Lucy [Voiced by Manoush, who also did voice work for Iskanov on Philosophy of a Knife 2008 and starred in Marc Rohnstock’s Necronos: Tower of Doom 2010] has walked out on him and moved in with his neighbour Victor [played by Iskanov himself]. Alex turns to drugs to ease his pain, and perhaps help him over the edge and into realm of indifference. Facing the legendary underground drug dealer known as The Alchemist [another Iskanov regular Victor Silkin], Alex is offered a new drug, unlike any known to man.

Alex takes the drug, called Tourist, which puts him in a trancelike state inducing hallucinations of amongst other things, being chased by a band of knife wielding assassins – a highly impressive segment of the film that comes to a hideously violent climax. In his drugged state he connects with other dimensions, and comes upon a seductive woman in black who lures him into a sinister plot to assassinate The Alchemist. It becomes an agenda that takes Alex on a deadly detour from his original plan and into something completely different...

No plan is complete with out it’s twists and turns, and Iskanov takes us down a complex road before setting Alex and The Alchemist face to face where fate changing questions are posed. The narrative rushes forth, blending action and horror with moments of extreme violence.. and just wait until you see the absolutely fantastic Lovecraftian tentacle moment?

Iskanov told me that this magnificent scene is homage to the tentacle monsters he loved as a child. H.G. Welles War of the Worlds, The Kindred and Xtro. But whatever impression the scene made on me, Iskanov promises that I haven’t’ seen anything yet, as he’s just even spent the last six months creating a new monster reshot this scene.

“The creature was all done in old school fashion. Reverse photography and fishing lines. There were batteries and diodes in the head for the red eyes of the creature. 

But I’ve created a remixed creature scene where I constructed a new creature. This one glows in the dark like a deep-sea fish. This one was much harder work than it was in first time. I also used few assistants and also ultraviolet lighting to make it work.”

It should be pointed out that there is really no answer to how one should read an Andrey Iskanov film. There are many layers to his work, and each individual viewer who watches them will interpret them differently. The closest and most concrete description I can suggest is reading them as Andrey Tarkovsky channelled via William Burroughs. The style of Iskanov’s films rely heavily on inner monologue that push the narrative forth, and this is an approach I associate a lot with the fine art of Tarkovsky. The rapid imagery and disruptive visuals remind me of Burroughs writing style.

Being a former editor myself, I personally hold editing as the key to creating great cinema; it’s in the dark of the edit suite where a movie can become a masterpiece or a disaster. Sure script and shoot are of high importance, but editing can make or break a movie in an instant. With more than a thousand hours of television productions behind me, I can say that this is the truth. Dodgy story, shoddy camerawork can all be saved to present a decent final result after post. The way Iskanov brings his movies together in the edit suite is impressive and I can only imagine the mammoth task it takes as he composes the visual and audio assaults that his movies are made up of.

When Iskanov writes his films, he goes about it in his own fashion too. In hindsight this could be a  way of writing that gives an insight into the fragmented and disruptive style his movies play out in:

“I only see short flashes of future scenes, images about which I know nothing. It’s just of puzzle. I see few bright moments, which may be the centre of the film, but no any story or characters. It’s just bright images of some sequences, which are hidden from me
and later I start imagining a connection between all of those images.”



There are some amazingly cunning edits in Ingression, part of them being images of animals in distress, human atrocities and general chaos. This brings sublime nausea to the piece, as these images are truly disturbing. It would be pointed out that despite quite a few shots of animal cruelty, no animals where harmed in the making of the film, the images are archive footage shown in TV screens through the narrative, and Iskanov is an animal lover himself. It’s an effective tool as it brings discomfort to the audience. Being a former picture editor myself, Iskanov and I obviously discussed editing and share a similar philosophy about postproduction, a key position in every production.

“Editing is most important part of filmmaking. Camerawork and sound design will create atmosphere, but the actually film will be born in the editing process!”

I’ve been privileged to see some of the Re-shoot and reedited first act of Andrey Iskanov's Ingression. Compared to the older cut, I find that the changes in the new version really do work in favour of the movie. Especially the relationship between Alex and Lucy is put into a much more valuable context. Now I see their relationship as it was before the divide that drives Alex over the edge. It’s a more humane and valuable one, which can give an insight into the motivation that, drives Alex forth. More time is spent giving a value to the past relationship, making it more important and a source of loss, frustration and depression, hence creating empathy for Alex, which makes it easier to take his side in the journey.

It is a fascinating trip, with several stand out impressive moments. Bringing moments of drug fueled mayhem, body horror aesthetics and some great special effects I find it to be one of his most comprehensive films so far, and I definitely rank it amongst one of his best films. No matter what influences may have shaped this original visionary, Iskanov has a unique style and his movies are one of a kind. I guess it would be fair to sum up Iskanov’s style as seeing what a person on a bad acid trip sees and experiences. It’s captivating, eclectic and highly addictive.

 

Andrey Iskanov is seeking distribution for Ingression and working Tochka, at his part of the upcoming The Profane Exhibition. 

Philosophy of a Knife

Philosophy of a Knife [QuickFix]

Directed by: Andrey Iskanov

Russia/USA, 2008

Drama/ Documentary, 249min

A documentation of war crime atrocities conducted by Japanese Unit 731 during the Second World War. A harrowing brew of archival footage, re-enactments and interviews with Anatoly Protasov, who was a former doctor/ military translator at the trials of the U731 doctors in Khabarovsk, USSR at the end of WWII.

Phew, prepare yourself to be mangled by the steamroller of malevolence, because Philosophy of a Knife is the Ben Hur of extreme cinema!  An epic piece of work, that drains its audience with almost four and a half hours of grotesque but captivating study of the legendary Unit 731.

Crafted through interviews, archive footage and reconstructions, Andrey Iskanov’s joyride of atrocities beats the shit out of any History Chanel documentary ever. This is the ultimate history of Unit 731, the Japanese research facility that conducted chemical and biological experiments on prisoners of war, from the early days, to their exposure and trial after the war. I can’t argue the accuracy of the Protasov interviews, but that old man has an aura of authenticity which definitely set’s up a level of realism which totally sells me the coming scenes of archival footage the often lead up to the brutalities to be re-enacted. What makes this such an overwhelming and powerful trip is the way Iskanov brings his Art-house-surrealistic touch to the realm of tortures and death. Even in the midst of the most grotesque of moments, there’s an aesthetic that propels the onscreen monstrosities deeper into the mind. Rapid edits, loud music, re-enactments cut against real footage and archival material creates juxtaposition from hell, and it becomes a test of endurance.

There’s a decent enough idea behind the movie, as Iskanov claims in his introduction that he wanted to show the events from the Japanese side and the morale dilemma that came with working there. This is obvious through the subplots found in each part of the two part movie, concerning a young nurse [Yukari Fujimoto] and her letters to those at home – who’s voice is performed by Manoush, German actress/singer/writer who also holds an important part in Marc Rohnstock’s Necronos: The Tower of Doom 2010 – and in the second part where a young officer [Tetusro Sakagami] finds himself conflicted between his emotions for a Russian female prisoner [Elena Poboatova] whist in the service of the Emperor, torturing people for a superior purpose.

Nevertheless, at the end of the day, it’s the sleaze, the gore, the violence of the special effects (or what is shown, I’ll never look at cockroaches in the same way ever again) that one comes to this movie for. Sure the history lesson is tantalizing, but it becomes a competition of comparison to the Men Behind the Sun films from the 80-90's. Iskanov pulls it off with bravura, giving new takes on classic scenes and bringing some even more disturbing stuff with him. Fuck The Human Centipede, this is four hours plus of medical accuracy, and let’s just say that the effects are gag-inducing.

The audioscape of this thing is amazing, there is no sound effect left unused as Iskanov pushes his nightmarish images to a further level with noises and industrial music that could compete with a Merzbow concert.

I guess the thing that attracts audiences the most with Philosophy of a Knife and the Men Behind the Sun movie, is the basic fact that these are all real atrocities which where performed on real people. The Evil that mankind does holds a strong macabre fascination for us all in our daily struggle with the fact that we are all going to die one day. In the safety of our TV couch it’s easy to gloat upon the carnage, but never forget that this is telling you a real story, and the morale debate on doing wrong for a good cause is a fascinating one. I often toy with the idea, what if Unit 371, or even the Nazi WW2 human experiments had come up with a life-altering discovery? How would this affect our otherwise polarized judgement on the matter?

Philosophy of a Knife get’s 6/6, and that’s for the approach to the subject matter and sheer enormity of this movie. Although there are some minor flaws, which in all honesty would be like complaining about the tan marks on the nuns in eighties nunsploitation flicks, or sock marks on nude inmates in WI.P films, the film is still totally worth the full house. Damn, four hours plus of vile grimness, interwoven with an important historic story. This is potent stuff. Just after Iskanov had completed postproduction, and had shipped his cut/footage to US for the DVD release, he was obtained by the FSB - that’s KGB to you and me mate! His computer and materials where seized and he was continuously interrogated on the source and extent of his research. After being held captive in a military base prison cell for five days, Iskanov was released with little of his materials or computers given back. I’d would have written it up as a genius marketing gimmick if I didn’t know that, one of the ballsiest Swedish movie distributors, have been trying to get this movie out for over a year now. More than one hard drive has been seized by officials on the way between Iskanov and the distributor. Or the fact that the box of discs I once sent my mate Alex in Russia, never arrived at his place either! One wonders what they where afraid Iskanov may have found…?

I forbid you to call yourself a fan of extreme cinema until you’ve sat through the full 249 minutes of Philosophy of a Knife.