two films immediately came to my mind on watching how to save a dead friend: tarnation (2003), by jonathan caouette, and nights (2000), by cláudia tomaz. the first because it was made using more than 20 years of home videos (in super 8 and vhs), photographs, and answering machine messages, which caouette edited to tell the story of his life and his complicated relationship with his mother, who suffered from mental illness. the second because it follows a couple who resort to various schemes in order to survive and cope with their heroin addiction, always on the edge of despair but with each other for consolation.

all these films are debut features shot with digital cameras. they are documentary self-portraits — in which the directors are also the protagonists — with fictional streaks (and vice-versa), highly personal and, therefore, highly political. they are acts of resistance. nights and how to save a dead friend begin, furthermore, in a similar fashion: with travelling shots that show run-down neighbourhoods — a reflection of the decay, neglect and indifference to which the protagonists themselves are subject. the backdrop to this film is an autocratic regime — defined by its centralisation of power, political repression and control of communications, by its restriction of liberty — which marked, and continues to mark deeply, the lives of various generations including that of the director.

russia’s millennials grew up, thus, in an atmosphere of repression and alienation, confronted by a lack of opportunity regarding the future, their individual and collective expression stifled — a “silenced generation” (which transcends borders) whose voices, ideas and dreams were systematically marginalised.

depression becomes generalised. suicide becomes part of daily life. and when there are no escapes, when there are no solutions, the answer is violence — against others, against oneself (if we are even able to separate those two things) — and everything turns against us. punishment waits at every corner.

one possible response, one means of surviving all of this, is togetherness: friendship, love, a chance of consolation. just as teresa and joão have each other in nights, so marusya and kimi become allies, caring for each other. depression acts as a unifying force, as does the visceral impulse to reject norms imposed by a government promoting politics based on “traditional values”, accompanied by an anti-western rhetoric that exacerbates their feeling of cultural isolation. hence, then, the two protagonists’ fascination for musical icons from the post-punk and grunge scenes in england and the united states: ian curtis, kurt cobain, courtney love — symbols of resistance, expressive and raw, who contest the hegemonic structures of their respective countries through music.

although the political and cultural contexts of contemporary russia, 1980s england and the united states of the 1990s are all very different — the english and americans lived in democracies that permitted some freedom of expression, while the russians face a regime that actively rescinds their rights — there are significant parallels between them; in england, the punk movement emerged as an angry shout against the neoliberal policies of margaret thatcher — which entrenched social inequalities and caused endless disillusion, especially in the working class — while, in the united states, grunge arrived to criticise the ideal of the “american dream”, giving voice to a generation completely alienated and frustrated by the consumerism and superficial culture of the time.

in all of these contexts, music emerged as a form of resistance, a tool for expressing discontent, fear, rage and frustration, a means of escaping state oppression and bearing witness in the name of freedom.

(a note here, too, to not forget pussy riot. for those unfamiliar, this feminist russian collective, formed in 2011, became known for organising guerrilla performances and concerts in public spaces, in stark opposition to the values of vladimir putin. three of their members were arrested and sent to remote prison camps, similar to the gulags, where they were subjected to forced labour as part of their sentences.)

despite the differences in time and place, these struggles against alienation and oppression form a connection between each of these generations. and although in this country, for now, we enjoy greater political freedom, i too feel lost, angry and disillusioned by systems that seem incapable of resolving structural problems such as inequality and poverty — and i am sure i am not the only one feeling this way.