Lida Oukaderova's book on the Soviet cinema of the Thaw is a welcome addition to publications in the field, especially since the author adopts a refreshing approach that crosses both disciplines and countries. She explores the representation of space, of the body's movement within that space, and the texture of its interiors in a limited number of well-chosen films: Mikhail Kalatozov's The Unsent Letter (1959) and I am Cuba (1964); Georgii Daneliia's I Walk the Streets of Moscow (1964); Larisa Shepit΄ko's Wings (1966); and Kira Muratova's Brief Encounters (1967).

Setting out her framework clearly in the introduction, Oukaderova explores the fragmentation of space by means of the camera and suggests an exercise of “unmapping” (2) that brings with it disorientation and a sense of loss within space, “negating the unified totality of realism” typical of Stalin-era films (19). In Chapter 1, she starts off with a discussion of the technological novelties of the time, notably “Kinopanorama,” which allows immersion into the screen space while immobilizing the spectator and separating him/her from the cinematic reality, as opposed to Stalin-era cinema that invites the spectator into the screen world.

The following four chapters (2–5) focus in chronological order on the selected films, allowing Oukaderova to trace clearly the development of the representation of space through a series of very fine visual analyses of the films. She draws on a range of theoretical frameworks to support her readings, and explains the increasingly hostile reaction of Soviet film critics with the rupture of traditional representation of characters in space. She demonstrates with impressive clarity how Kalatozov (and Sergei Urusevskii) destabilize the viewer through dynamic camera use, and how this participatory role of the mobile camera made Kalatozov's later films too unconventional for Soviet realist discourses as the body is literally dissolved in space.

The discussions of I Walk the Streets of Moscow and Wings draw parallels with international trends in cinema, notably Jacques Tati and Michelangelo Antonioni, thus highlighting how much the new way of sensing space was not unique to Soviet cinema but connected with the new waves of French and Italian cinema. Moreover, Oukaderova makes references to the changing axes in architecture along the binaries of vertical/horizontal and centripetal/centrifugal is set out in Vladimir Paperny's seminal Kul΄tura 2—only, alas, that book was not published in 1996, but in 1985 (96). She links the fragmentary narrative to the non-linear movement across the capital and the fluidity of time in Daneliia's film.

Her final two case studies focus on women directors: as she claims, this is not accidental, since there is a link between gender and spatial representation. In both films, Oukaderova dwells on the use of windows, walls, and frames to delineate the urban space of non-capital cities, Sevastopol and Odessa, respectively, from the isolated woman who has come (back) to the place. Wings relies on mobile perception, following the heroine on a stroll around the city and portraying her as a flâneuse. Muratova, meanwhile, presents her heroine in a cluttered interior (“materiality”) that emphasizes at the same time the emptiness of a space that wants to be inhabited. Oukaderova compares the volumetric body portrayed against a flat screen space to the relief in visual arts.

In the conclusion Oukaderova makes a bold move, suggesting the applicability of her suggested readings to contemporary cinema, which is followed by a brief analysis of space in Andrei Zviagintsev's films, notably Elena, with its minimalist interior of the luxury apartment appropriated for living by Elena's family at the end.

Overall, Oukaderova offers a fresh view on Thaw cinema, connecting the visualization—technical, architectural, and material—of space with wider artistic trends, both in non-Soviet cinema and in visual arts. What is particularly impressive is Oukaderova's exact articulation of the camerawork and its manner of capturing the body in space. The book is well researched, drawing on archival documents pertaining to discussions of individual films, and working productively with theoretical frameworks. The very minor inconsistencies in transliteration practice should not deter from the overall outstanding achievement of a visual and cinematic reading of shifts in filmmaking during the Thaw.