REVIEW: Cinema Release: How I Ended This Summer

Film: How I Ended This Summer
Release date: 22nd April 2011
Running time: 124 mins
Director: Aleksei Popogrebsky
Starring: Grigoriy Dobrygin, Sergei Puskepalis, Igor Chernevich, Ilya Sobolev, Artyom Tsukanov
Genre: Drama/Thriller
Studio: New Wave
Format: Cinema
Country: Russia

Russian director Alexei Popogrebski’s psychological thriller was a surprise winner at the prestigious 2010 London Film Festival, no mean feat when one considers the competition - not only was the Oscar-winning King’s Speech in contention, but also Black Swan and 127 Hours. Despite working its charms at the festival, How I Ended This Summer has divided critics worldwide.

On the Eastern tip of Russia, just a short distance from Alaska, lies Chukotka, one of the most isolated landscapes on Earth, and home to a Russian meteorological station. Manning this station are just two occupants: Sergei, a veteran who has spent many a year in such isolation, thus developing a cold and unapproachable manner, and his young understudy Pavel, a work experience student. Pavel is more preoccupied with listening to heavy rock music and writing his essay, ‘How I Ended This Summer’, than with the task at hand, leading to one or two early face-offs with Sergei, who is exasperated by Pavel’s carelessness and clumsiness.

What begins as artsy film littered with landscape shots but bereft of dialogue soon becomes a more eerie affair when Sergei disappears for a couple of days to fish for trout, leaving Pavel in charge at the base station, a two-way radio his only link to the outside world. When Pavel receives a message that Sergei’s wife and son have been killed in an accident, this triggers a cataclysmic chain of events, as Pavel attempts to figure out a way to break the tragic news to Sergei. With the chilling backdrop of the Arctic elements, paranoia becomes border-line insanity…


Popogrebski leaves no stone unturned in an attempt to create a haunting atmosphere, using the fabled crepuscular half light, when the contrast between dark and light is at its most prominent. The twilight effect of the creeping shadows is something he falls back on time and again, yet it never feels overused. Perhaps the unfamiliarity of the scenery and indeed the diverse wildlife fuel our fascination with the unknown, despite the hint of agoraphobia throughout. In the deathly silence of the snow, the swirling howl of the wind and even in the lumbering menace of a polar bear, Popogrebski is able to conjure unease within the audience. His only questionable inclusion is his use of first-person computer game graphic, which appears misplaced in the extreme.

Samples of heavy rock music in amongst the extensive shots of glorious landscape further accentuate the contrast between the quiet desolation and the overpowering harshness of the elements in the early parts of the film, in which dialogue is limited. Soon enough, however, we are made aware that there is already a growing tension between Sergei and Pavel, even before news of the tragedy reaches them. When the protagonists do converse, there is resentment in their voices, and the bond which one might expect between two men who spend every waking moment in each other’s company does not exist.

Both actors deserve much credit for their performances; Sergei Puskepalis coming across as completely unapproachable with his quiet and brooding manner, and Grigoriy Dobrygin who bubbles with muted menace before it gives way to outrageous insanity in the climactic scenes. They bring a dense reality to proceedings, sharing an intriguing dynamic, whereby we urge them to discover common ground, or even just share a joke.

Rhythmically, the film is relatively slow-paced, but the tension of the narrative and the potential for discovery keeps the audience guessing. Pavel repeatedly stumbles in his attempts to break the news to Sergei, as events become a little far-fetched. It could be argued that the film takes a turn for the worse when Pavel becomes convinced that Sergei is trying to kill him, which triggers an extensive chase scene that feels more like an elongated game of hide and seek. Pavel sits in the shadows for what must be more than a week, as he contends with starvation and mounting paranoia.

The questionable conclusion that follows will be subject to debate for years to come, and perhaps Popogrebski has actually demonstrated restraint by preventing How I Ended This Summer from descending into a farce of utter carnage. However, one cannot help wondering whether Popogrebski really has it in him to tell such a twisted story, or whether it was all just an excuse to shoot nature at its most rugged and beautiful.


Popogrebski’s dark Arctic tale has the raw materials in place for an epic piece of work, which may yet define his career. His understated and confused conclusion may not be to everyone’s taste, but he deserves credit for the ominous atmosphere portrayed throughout, and the stylistics will live long in the memory. MC