Tomorrow

In a small snowcovered town in Belarus a former English teacher manages to scrape a living distributing leaflets to peoples letterboxes In the evening he joins his wife in their dingy apartment and together they reminisce about their son a student in Minsk they rarely see Possibly their only excitement of the week is buying a lottery ticket which for a few seconds gives them a chance to dream Yuliya Shatuns camera at first oddly focused on the white expanses along every roadside then begins to scrutinise the teacher in his comings and goings a precise recording with however a hint of the moroseness of a terrain so rare in todays cinema The teacher has stoically adapted to a degenerate world and a life fuelled by stifled shame An odour of neglect wafts between the apartment blocks the uttered words and the background noise of the television A certain irony floats in the air too and it needs Yuliya Shatuns patience to grasp and take responsibility for it