Fortress

Determined to do his utmost to protect his homeland from ever-imminent invasion, young Luka – a talented sniper – makes the lengthy trek from region 27 north to Fort Kairos, an outpost on the Steppe where the General and her council maintain guard against the pending onslaught from the North. In this desolate industrial complex, fear of an attack that never seems to come by an enemy that perhaps does not exist has morphed into a sort of serene paranoia. Military training has congealed, becoming a series of bizarre, animalistic rituals; punishment for minor infractions ranges from shovelling excrement to death by thirst. When at last there is dim evidence that the North is mobilising its troops, it becomes apparent that dogma now trumps truth, compassion and common sense. Geraldine Chaplin's twisted General is just one stand-out among uniformly excellent performances, which are underscored by threatening black-and-white cinematography and precisely unnerving sound design. Obliquely tinged with the conjured terrors of George Orwell's "Nineteen Eighty-Four" and the rapturous brotherly love of Jean Genet's Un chant d'amour (1950), Jessica Woodworth's take on Dino Buzzati's much-lauded "The Tartar Steppe" crafts a fantasy of post-truth lunacy that perhaps reflects today more closely than is comfortable. (International Film Festival Rotterdam)