With its story set during the true and underrepresented
genocide of the Ukrainian people by the Soviet Union in the early 1930’s, Bitter
Harvest is every bit as emotionally crushing as one would expect. The
plot mainly concerns the fictional story of two young lovers (Max Irons and
Samantha Barks) torn apart by the fighting and famine, and their quest to
reunite, no matter what the cost. I must admit, a period piece about two
star-crossed lovers being oppressed by the Soviet Union did not sound like an
especially exciting or interesting movie to me at first, but the more of Bitter
Harvest I watched, the more engrossed I became. For the most part, this
is an intense and sobering look at love in the face of one of the greatest
horrors humanity has seen.
The film is very dry, as one would expect from a movie based
on a topic like this. Mostly this somber tone is used to highlight the severity
of the famine, but it does at times become a bit too slow moving for its own
good, particularly toward the beginning when it focuses on the story of the two
lovers. Credit where credit is due, though: both actors do a fine job with
their characters and carry the movie pretty solidly. It’s especially nice to
see Samantha Barks again after her excellent debut in Les Miserables. You
really do find yourself caring about these two characters, and hoping that they
make it through these hardships and reunite, even when the movie starts to drag
a bit.
While the majority of Bitter Harvest aims to be a grounded
and realistic portrait of the devastating genocide, the filmmakers all too
frequently step away from this realism, and pad out the story with over-the-top
tropes and stock characters. The antagonist, for example, is a Soviet officer
so cartoonishly evil he might as well be twisting his mustache as he
intimidates Samantha Barks. It’s a bit distracting to have this gritty account
of a tragic real-world conflict interrupted by a character this
one-dimensional.
Without stepping into spoiler territory, the final act of
the film furthers this loss of realism. The filmmakers seemingly abandon their
vision for a grounded and harrowing account of this frustratingly little-known atrocity,
in favor of wrapping up the film’s fictitious plotlines with a conventionally
satisfying ending. I understand where they were coming from, but I found the odyssey
about fighting your way home through a war to be far more compelling when it
felt like fact-based historical fiction.
Despite its tone problems, occasionally slow pacing, and
questionable production decisions (these are some incredibly British-sounding
Soviet Ukrainians – Joseph Stalin speaking the Queen’s English just doesn’t play
right) Bitter Harvest is a mostly compelling take on the familiar “power-of-love-can-conquer-any-adversity”
storyline, with a fascinating and heart-wrenching history lesson sprinkled in
for good measure.