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THE 3 ROOMS OF MELANCHOLIA
Directed by & Director of Photography: Pirjo Honkasalo.
Produced by: Kristina Pervilä.
Edited by: Niels Pagh Andersen & Pirjo Honkasalo.
Music by: Sanna Salmenkallio.
Released by: First Run/Icarus.
Language: Russian, Chechen, Arabic & Finnish with English subtitles.
Country of Origin: Finland. 106 min. Not Rated.

The 3 Rooms of Melancholia depicts three separate groups of children who are living out, one way or another, the consequences of the war between Russia and the separatist state Chechnya. It paints a moving portrait of the children, the grown-ups around them, and what it means day to day to be a part of an endless and violent conflict.

The first story - or room - covers the lives of young boys in a Russian military academy. Many of them come from broken homes, wrecked by alcohol, death or the war. The subtle sadness in their faces, their few laughs, and the fact that boys of nine watch a video which contains footage of the corpses of Chechen female suicide bombers say much more than any voiceover could.

The same goes with the second episode. Three Grozny children have to leave their ill mother and go live with a woman, Hadizhat Gataeva, who cares for children in need. The opening scene of absolute urban desolation and the very smallness of the room in which the mother lies - with her children trying to feed her - is heartbreaking. These details, and the bus ride the children and Gataeva go on while listening to the sounds of bombs and artillery, give a sharpened sense of how the concept of normal has been turned on its head.

Images also constitute an important part in understanding the third room, set in a children's refugee camp in the neighboring republic of Ingushetia. In this segment, the people talk more about their experiences, how much they hate the Russians and why - having been raped by Russian soldiers, for example. It is sad, but also disturbing; many are the children who will shape the country in the future and who, without fully knowing what is happening, are already filled with hate.

All in all, the three rooms are clear-eyed accounts, relegating sound and speech to the extremely necessary, though there are a few words, written and spoken, that should have been translated. The pace is slow, almost religious in its continual silence. The many close-ups of the children's faces reveal scars that one supposes are due to the difficult lives they live. The films biggest achievement, however, lies in capturing the other, deeper unseen wounds that have not yet healed and might not ever mend.
Roxana M. Ramirez, Peruvian laywer and journalist, formerly a member of the Peruvian Human Rights and Public Service Ombudsman
July 27, 2005