Lost in space

by Sara Tinsdale
spotlight@c-ville.com

When asked about the seemingly intricate knowledge of the Russian space program that his slick, suspense-laden short film, Roskosmos, displays, filmmaker (and UVA senior) Rom Alejandro laughs. “I made it all up,” he admits.
    As it turns out, making it up is something that Alejandro seems to do quite well. With 18 short films under his belt, the young director has already accomplished more than many graduate film-school students. In fact, both Roskosmos and its maker exude a precocious professionalism that would indicate much bigger things ahead (and not in a cheesy, Attack of the 50 Foot Woman-remake sort of way, either).
    Shot last year in Charlottesville (in a full-size replica of a Russian spaceship Alejandro and his crew built inside the Ix Building), Roskosmos spins a space drama about a lost shuttle, “Soyuz-0,” during the height of the Cold-War Soviet Space Program. Piloted by a cosmonaut called Kuleshov (Russian film buffs will get the sly reference) and a distractingly beautiful assistant played, appropriately, by 2006 Miss Virginia United States Catherine Kim, the mission must figure out how to re-enter the Earth’s atmosphere after a series of technical blunders.
    Apollo 13 a la Ruski? Not quite; Roskosmos is far more condensed than its Hollywood counterpart. The film begins during the final moments of the shuttle’s mission, heightening the tension, and exploring the uncertainty of survival in a few tense moments. What makes the endeavor successful is the film’s clever marriage of historical ambiguity and eerie atmosphere. “No one really knows anything about the Russian Space Program,” says Alejandro, who decided to use that sense of mystery in “establishing a mythology for [the film].”
    Although he admits that he “was a little worried about the plausibility” of the concept, Alejandro’s attention to realism ultimately makes the film work. The dialogue is entirely in Russian, the action is shot on ‘60s-style Super 8 film, and the grainy color scheme seems exactly right, reproducing the look of the secret footage you just know the Reds are hiding.
And then there’s the whole infatuation thing. Cosmonaut Kuleshov happens to have a slight obsession with his lovely assistant. Kuleshov refers to her as his “Little Commander” (but we’ll call her Cosmobabe), and her plucked brows, wide doe eyes (does she ever blink?) and pouty lips do tend to stretch the whole “plausibility” thing to the breaking point. I mean, hasn’t this mission been in space for at least a week? How can lip gloss stay glossy for so long? Is this the “fiction” part, or am I just jealous?
    As for Alejandro, he says he wants the film to play on “the gender dynamics of science fiction films… Space travel [is] a very masculine way to invade the feminine space.” Adding credence to his argument is the fact that Cosmobabe is not only beautiful, but—in an ironic feminist twist—she’s also a prodigy, and the only one on the mission who actually knows what she’s doing. Way to pull out the liberal arts degree on us, Rom.
    But perhaps the most impressive facet of Roskosmos is the film’s technical virtuosity. Alejandro skillfully captures weightlessness in the film, suggesting that the actors spent extensive (and expensive) time in a free-fall simulator. But no—Alejandro swears that the seamless floating effects were accomplished using just “a lot of camera tricks.”
    With all of the plaudits and hype he’s been getting, you might expect Alejandro to be developing an Oliver Stone-sized ego. But, for now, this budding Kubrick remains humble. For him, Roskosmos is “primarily a study on Russian filmmaking [and] the Russian style of editing.” Perhaps one day Alejandro will join the ranks of filmmakers like Kuleshov and Eisenstein in the cinematic pantheon—but for now he’s content to simply study them. He is, after all, still a student.

Roskosmos plays at Newcomb Theater on October 22 at 3pm—admission is $3.00, and all proceeds will benefits the Filmmakers Society at UVA.