A movie in seven short films. Seven coherent scenes, encounters, anecdotes, one of which always seems to lead to the next, but that doesn't mean that this chain reaction doesn't produce various absurdities in its course - previously dead people are suddenly healthy, couples separated, quarrels forgiven, memories forgotten. All of this in a place of grim simplicity: on a bench in a hospital corridor in front of a tiled wall. A perfect piece of theater performed by a handful of brilliant actors, filmed with an admirable concentration on the essentials - every gesture, every look, every pause for breath, no matter how small, becomes a real event. The result: the comédie humaine en miniature.
Ivan Vyrypaev, one of the current stars among the playwrights of Russian theater, adapts himself for the cinema for the second time, again with his partner, the Polish actress Karolina Gruszka, in one of the leading roles. Even if you don't speak Russian, you can feel how Vyrypaev knows how to work with the language, how to develop an increasingly frenzied maelstrom from the sound and rhythm of his sentences alone. Hard to imagine, but true: in its own way, Delhi Dance is a rollercoaster ride.
