January is laden with potent metaphors that might be less impenetrable if you’re fully clued-up on Bulgaria’s post-communist transition — or might not. Ultimate unknowability is the endgame.

The disparate elements manage to hang together more than not, one binding factor being Juste Janulyte’s frequently interesting original score.

The personal touch guides what could have been a typical siege film or generic war film, likely to focus on more important figures, into something more relatable and perhaps reflective of the experiences of the people who lived it.

Succeeds in intersecting art, love, and war, in levels that even Tarkovsky might appreciate.