Masha (2021)

Masha captures something rare: a coming-of-age story that feels tender and bruising at the same time, seen through a girl who mistakes danger for devotion because it’s the only love she’s been offered. Anastasiya Palchikova paints the 1990s not with flashy nostalgia but with subtle, lived-in detail—the boxing ring, the streets, the hush around violence—while Polina Gukhman gives a performance so convincing you can feel Masha’s hope singing against the noise. The film’s vibe is moody and intimate, with jazz as a fragile lifeline and memory as a trapdoor, and it explores trauma without turning it into spectacle. It’s not for viewers looking for a slick crime thrill ride, but if you want an original, emotionally intelligent drama about how the past clings to you, Masha is absolutely worth your time.

Masha is aiming for a gritty coming-of-age crime drama about a girl raised in the shadow of 1990s gangster “family,” mixing street violence with a jazz-dream escape hatch. It has a strong mood and a compelling central performance, but the storytelling can feel more like a series of grim beats than a deeply explored character journey, and the emotional turns may strike you as abrupt rather than earned. If you’re looking for a tightly plotted crime thriller or a nuanced psychological study, this might frustrate you with its bluntness and bleak inevitability. But if you can handle harsh violence and you’re in the mood for a stylized, melancholic portrait of corrupted loyalty and lost innocence, it delivers atmosphere and attitude even when it doesn’t fully land the punches.