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Emilija Škarnulytė’s mesmerizing documentary straddles the line between a geological dig and speculative realism. It seamlessly transitions between the micro and macro perspectives, starting with a 3D display of uranium ore and then shifting to X-ray-like illustrations of radioactive household objects in a sickly green hue. As the film progresses, these abstract images give way to something more tangible yet equally enigmatic. The camera delves underwater, revealing the remnants of a secret 1950s uranium mine in Poland, once hidden under Soviet control. Slithering through the ruins is a water python, its shimmering presence serving as a cosmic counterpart to the exploitation of natural resources.
The film by Škarnulytė features a recurring theme of ambiguity, seen in both the visuals and the camera’s perspective. It cuts to the Ignalina nuclear power station, a counterpart to Chernobyl, where the decommissioning process resulted in millions of reinforced concrete structures that need to be demolished. The film uses on-screen text to explain this process. This large amount of waste will ideally be handled at a research facility in Meuse, France, located 500 meters below sea level.
While navigating these advanced environments, Škarnulytė’s movie also incorporates elements of surrealism. The python makes another appearance in the Ignalina power plant, its shimmering body wrapping around the control panels. By juxtaposing the vibrant forests, nuclear test explosions, and close-ups of a snake shedding its skin, Burial challenges the idea of rebirth and metamorphosis. Despite Ignalina’s eventual destruction and concealment, the lingering influence of Soviet control remains, as the film ends with a show of solidarity for Ukraine.
Source: theguardian.com
