Ryan McNeil
The newest film from co-directors Kristina Grozeva and Petar Valchanov begins with a glorious long take of three cold-war-era military trucks driving down a hill. These durable-but-shabby relics trundle without elegance, and eventually get exactly where they want to go.
It’s a lovely metaphor for the old school con that’s about to take place.
TRIUMPH takes us back to Bulgaria after the fall of communism. With a power vacuum in place, much of eastern Europe is still figuring out “what’s next”…and all avenues are being explored.
Even aliens.
The unit that we meet will spend weeks trying to unearth a “capsule” in this rural glen. What’s it do? Unclear. Who put it there? Unknown.
What we do know is that the powers that be in the Bulgarian military have seen fit to send a unit including a psychic into the site to unearth its power – and deliver on whatever promise it may contain.
TRIUMPH is a patient tale that chip-chip-chips away at the stone in search of that one satisfying crack. It wants us to do as it says, not as it does, and desperately wants us to pay no attention to that man behind the curtain. It could be considered absurd … if it wasn’t also true.
The truth of TRIUMPH is an example of how the powerful can stay in power. They will sell others a bill of false goods and sell it so convincingly that everyone will go along for the ride. By “everyone” we mean upper class, lower class, officials in government, soldiers in the military and more.
In desperate times, people will cling to any glimmer of possibility. Sometimes it’s a promise of answers, sometimes it’s a promise of prosperity; often it’s both. TRIUMPH wants us to sing and dance and pray along with it as it fulfills our destiny…
…even if that will lead us to one more broken promise.