Dau. Katya Tanya May 2026

The relationship between Katya and Tanya is not a narrative. It is a ritual. And by the final shot—Tanya alone at the table, Katya passed out in the bedroom, the camera slowly racking focus to a fly on a dirty plate—you realize there is no moral. There is only the loop. The DAU project has been accused of exploitation. It is rumored that during the filming of "DAU. Katya Tanya," boundary violations occurred that would shut down a Western production. Whether you believe the art justifies the means or rejects the project entirely, the film remains an unshakeable artifact.

For casual viewers (trigger warning: extreme alcoholism, psychological torture, self-harm), the film serves as a mirror. It reflects the quiet wars that happen in millions of kitchens, where the battlefield is a linoleum floor and the casualty is human dignity. DAU. Katya Tanya

This is the dangerous genius of the DAU method. functions as a case study in codependency . Tanya enables Katya not out of malice, but out of a Soviet-bred survival instinct: You do not solve problems. You endure them. You clean the mess. You wait for death. Visual Language: The Beech-Nut Melancholy Cinematographer Jürgen Jürges (of Fassbinder fame) shoots the film in a claustrophobic 4:3 aspect ratio. The color palette is desaturated khaki green and faded beige. The famous title card appears: "Beech-Nut" (a reference to a type of gum that appears as a recurring motif). The camera rarely moves. It observes. It lingers on Tanya’s hands as they wash a cup with surgical precision. It holds on Katya’s face for two full minutes as she oscillates between seduction and contempt. The relationship between Katya and Tanya is not a narrative

(original title: Катина Таня or variations focusing on the two women) is the second film in the series released in 2020 via the DAU Cinema platform. Running approximately 100 minutes, it shifts focus from the male-dominated corridors of power (the institute) to the claustrophobic, floral-wallpapered purgatory of a shared apartment. There is only the loop

In the sprawling, controversial, and almost mythologically complex universe of DAU , director Ilya Khrzhanovsky’s $10 million-plus immersive art project turned film series, one entry stands apart for its raw, painful intimacy. While the larger DAU project is known for its totalitarian set design, its blurring of reality and performance, and its alleged psychological manipulation, the film "DAU. Katya Tanya" (originally released as part of the DAU cinema cycle) cuts through the avant-garde noise with a scalpel. It is not about Soviet physics, state security, or grand ideological metaphors. It is about two women, one apartment, and a slow-motion car crash of dependency, love, and destruction.

(Radmila) is the young, emotionally volatile wife of a powerful, middle-aged scientist (Currentzis). She is an alcoholic teetering on the edge of psychosis, seeking affection through aggression. Tanya (Lidiya) is Katya’s elderly, silent mother-in-law, who shares the cramped apartment. Tanya is the domestic anchor—she cleans up the vomit, washes the glasses, and absorbs verbal abuse with a stoicism that feels both saintly and masochistic.

Watch it with company. Have a blanket ready. And remember: The scariest thing in the film is not the rage. It is the love. Because no matter how many times Katya spits in Tanya’s face, Tanya never leaves. And that, perhaps, is the true horror of the human condition. ★★★★☆ (4/5 - Masterful but excruciating) Streaming: Available on the DAU Cinema platform (Mubi previously held rights, check local listings). Similar films: Requiem for a Dream (psychological collapse), Jeanne Dielman, 23 Commerce Quay (domestic dread), The Piano Teacher (eroticized suffering).