Come and See

Let’s talk about Come and See, the Soviet anti-war movie from 1985 that you might have heard about in three different “most disturbing movies” YouTube videos. I finally watched it last year after telling myself for a decade that I was prepared, and honestly, nothing could really prepare me for what this film throws at you. Directed by Elem Klimov, it follows a young Belarusian boy named Florya as he gets swept up in the horror of the Nazi occupation during World War II. It’s one of those war movies that doesn’t so much show combat as it just pulls you through the mud and makes you feel every ounce of dread and trauma.

The biggest thing with Come and See is its tone. The movie almost refuses to give you a moment to relax. It’s not that there’s action every second, but you can feel the tension and misery hanging over every scene like a suffocating blanket. Even in scenes where not much is happening, you’ll find yourself sort of dreading whatever comes next, because you know it’s only getting worse for these characters. The innocence of Florya at the beginning just slips away with every horrifying event, and you watch his spirit get chipped away bit by bit. It’s devastating to see, doubly so when you realize how young he looks.

Aleksei Kravchenko, who plays Florya, pretty much carries the whole film. This is one of those rare times where you watch a performance and start to feel like maybe the actor needs a long vacation (or therapy) after the shoot. The horror is all over his face. Klimov uses a lot of long, unbroken shots, so you’re stuck staring into those haunted eyes as the movie gets darker and more surreal around him. There’s a sequence about halfway through where Florya and a girl are lost in a swamp that lingers in my brain for months afterward. It’s filmed in this oppressive, raw way that almost feels like a fever dream, and it really sets the tone for what follows.

The cinematography is just wild. Klimov and his team shoot with this handheld, close-up-heavy style that honestly makes the grimness even more immersive. There’s very little traditional beauty here, nothing like those polished, glossy war movies out of Hollywood. Instead, it all feels unstable — mud, blood, faces in agony, fires roaring in the background. Some of the framing gets almost surreal, like something out of a nightmare, and I genuinely think it’s one of the most effective uses of first-person storytelling I’ve seen in a war film. It’s like being trapped in someone else’s trauma.

What I appreciate is that the movie doesn’t glorify anything. There’s no brave last stand, no speeches about freedom or patriotism. War here is just annihilation and terror. The violence isn’t stylized or exciting — it’s overwhelming, cruel, and sometimes even left just out of frame, which somehow makes it more disgusting. I know a lot of war movies try to show “the horrors of war,” but most of them still find time for heroism or catharsis. Not here. The ending offers no easy resolution and you’re left feeling emotionally bludgeoned, which I think is exactly the point.

What didn’t work for me, if I’m being honest, is that the movie’s relentless misery can border on numbing after a while. It’s obviously by design, and it serves the story, but there’s a stretch in the final act where I started feeling detached. Like, when horror is all you’re being fed for two solid hours, the effect can dull just a little bit. I found myself craving one moment of humanity or hope, but the movie isn't interested in giving you that. That’s probably me wanting narrative comfort where there shouldn’t be any, but it’s something I noticed.

It’s also just a tough movie to recommend. I respect that it is uncompromising and more honest about what war is than most films dare to be. But it’s such a brutal experience that I can’t imagine ever casually rewatching it, or even talking about it without a warning. I respect it more than I enjoy it, if that makes sense. It’s a masterpiece of the genre, but you do have to steel yourself before hitting play.

Still, if you appreciate war films or cinema that doesn’t pull punches, Come and See is in its own league. Nothing I’ve seen looks or feels like it. It’s the kind of film that sticks with you for days, maybe weeks, gnawing at the back of your mind. Nobody’s ever making a plush toy or a theme park ride out of this movie. You’ll finish it feeling like you’ve seen the worst of what humanity can do — and maybe, just maybe, you’ll understand why it’s important for films like this to exist.