Film: Sergei Eisenstein: Vol Two
Release date: 20th September 2010
Certificate: 15
Running time: 294 mins
Director: Sergei M. Eisenstein
Starring: Vitya Kartashov, Boris Zakhava, Nikolai Cherkassov, Dmitri Orlov, Igor Pavlenko
Genre: Action/Biography/Drama/History/War
Studio: Palisades Tartan
Format: DVD
Country: Soviet Union
While part one of this box set includes the films that established Eisenstein’s reputation as a master filmmaker, the second set covers the later period following his return from Europe, the US and Mexico. Eisenstein’s earlier films had found favour with the political establishment, and when the powers that be realised that Soviet cinema would need to keep up with the technological advancements of Hollywood ‘talkies’, Eisenstein was the obvious choice of director to travel to the West to learn the more sophisticated sound techniques of the US film industry. But Eisenstein’s favoured position was not assured.
Bezhin Meadow
The first film that he completed following his return to the Soviet Union, Bezhin Meadow, was criticised by Stalin for its ‘formalism’. Artistic experimentation was frowned upon, as it was seen to value artistic form over all important ideological content. The film was never released, and what was completed was almost totally destroyed by German bombing of the Mosfilm studio during World War II. The disc includes a half hour film on Bezhin Meadow, consisting of a short introduction followed by a 25 minute short reconstructing the film, as far as possible, from the surviving negatives and stills. The film’s destruction is a sad loss but, conversely, being able to view these negatives on a frame by frame basis reveals how artfully Eisenstein constructed his shots. Some resemble contemporary photographic portraits, while others are reminiscent of the chiaroscuro of an Old Master painting.
But Eisenstein would not be given such free rein for artistic expression again. His talent was a valuable tool for propaganda, but in future it would be under strict creative control. That influence can be seen in these later films…
Alexander Nevsky
The film relates the tale of Alexander Nevsky, a 13th century prince who defended Russia against attacks by both Swedish and German forces, focusing on the importance of patriotic valour and the duty of citizens to defend their lands.
Russia is depicted as a country beset by aggressors on all sides. The Golden Horde of Mongolia has waged bloody war from the east, leaving a bleak and bone scattered country in its wake. When news arrives of an army of Teutonic knights approaching from the west, Prince Nevsky is chosen to lead the Russians against them due to his previous military prowess in defeating a Swedish invasion.
Rousing the peasants of Russia to take arms, Alexander leads the film to its focal scene, a majestic set piece taking up over a quarter of the film, depicting the battle between the Russian army and the Teutonic knights. The Russians achieve victory, but not without cost. There is time for reflection upon the resultant loss, as well as for celebration of the victors’ courage. The film closes with words of warning: he who comes with a sword to us shall die by the sword, on this stands Russia and on this she will stand forever…
The political message of the film is heavy-handed, not unexpectedly, given that the consequence of creating an ideologically unacceptable film could be execution. Eisenstein was assigned a co-writer for the film, Pyotr Pavlenko, a loyal Stalinist and, in all likelihood, a secret police agent. The Russians are portrayed as simple, good hearted folk, earning their living innocently by fishing, trading and ship building. The militarism of the Russians is seen to be purely in defence of their homeland, whilst the foreign invaders are cast as aggressive war mongers. The Russians’ armour is wholesomely plain, whereas the faces of the Teutonic knights are hidden behind sinister helmets which sport primitive symbols upon the crest – eagles with wings outstretched, or a hand with palm facing forbiddingly outward.
The film’s representation of Christianity seems at odds with the late medieval period of the setting, betraying the influence of communism’s anti-religious ideology. Emphasis is placed on the alliance between the Germans and the Catholic Church, with the cruel faced bishop declaring that “all who refuse to bow to Rome must be put to death.” The presence of Christianity in Russia is conveniently minimised, with the small crosses atop St Nicholas’ Cathedral in the city of Novgorod being the only suggestion that the Russians themselves may be Christians, and not therefore immune to a religion that is portrayed as a barbaric superstition.
Ideologically subtle it isn’t, but this is still a film in the hands of a great artist. The climax of the film is the famous battle scene, where the elements of score, cinematography, direction and editing combine to create a sense of both the grand scale of the fight and the trepidation and bravery of the individuals caught up within it. The film’s score, by no less an artist than Prokofiev, features discordant, sinister brass notes which build a feeling of tense anticipation as the two armies confront each other, while the consequent charge is accompanied by a hectic acceleration in musical tempo. The historical battle took place during winter, but Eisenstein filmed this scene during a July heat wave. In order to convey an impression of cold and ice, his cinematographer, Eduard Tissu, used a filter to suggest cold winter light. Eisenstein creates a sense of awe and foreboding with his shots, which feature a huge sky dominating the frame, while a multitude of spears shimmers towards the bottom of the screen. Close ups of the Russians’ faces express determination tempered with a realisation that death could be imminent. The aftermath of the battle is equally impressive, as the womenfolk search for the living among the fallen on the battlefield, the burning brands they carry overshadowed by a grim sky. But there’s no suggestion that the loss is disproportionate to the cause –those who die for Russia die as heroes. The closing scene is one of grim justice for those who have waged war on Russia, and celebration of the brave warriors who have defended her.
Plot and characterisation are incidental to the film’s purpose, with the contribution of Nikolai Cherkasov as Nevsky mainly consisting of standing arms akimbo gazing sternly at the horizon. But it’s worth looking past the faintly Monty Python-esque oppressed peasants for the magnificent battle scene and its aftermath. The light in the film is extraordinary and, together with its huge skies, somehow gives a sense of the hugeness of the Russian steppes – you can almost feel the breeze blowing from the Baltic.
Ivan The Terrible Part I
Eisenstein’s film comprised part of a general movement in the late 1930s and early 1940s to rehabilitate the reputation of the infamous Russian tsar. Stalin praised Ivan as a great and wise leader, admiring his stalwart position in defending Russia against foreign influences and invasion. Once again, the talents of Prokofiev and Tissu contributed to the distinctive artistic vision of Eisenstein’s work.
The film commences with the coronation of Ivan as Tsar, amidst a court clearly full of dissent and intrigue. Ivan himself is kept from view for the first five minutes, creating an aura of mystery. Following his coronation, he declares his political aims to the court – he will be a strong ruler, uniting Russia and ending the multiple rule of the boyars, the high level aristocrats whose power and wealth is second only to the Russian princes. Ivan will set up a permanent army, and those who do not serve in it must support it with money, including the monasteries whose accumulated wealth does not serve the interests of the people.
Thereby alienating various powerful interests in one fell swoop, Ivan proceeds to successfully win over the initially revolting peasantry with his boldness and wit, cementing his popularity with a successful military campaign waged against the Kazan people. Falling ill on his return to Moscow, his apparently imminent death triggers a display of open defiance amongst the Russian princes. His unexpected recovery causes dismay among their ranks and many flee the court. In order to further strengthen Russia’s military position, Ivan sends his closest allies to lead campaigns to extend Russia’s territory to the west and the south, but his supposedly loyal generals are only too ready to abandon their tsar in return for influence in foreign courts.
The death of his wife deals Ivan a devastating blow. As he grieves over her body, laid out to rest in the cathedral, one of his generals arrives with news from the various campaigns. The reports of betrayal by those the tsar had believed most faithful read like a litany of the dead, interspersed as they are with the psalm intoned by the bishop – “the waters are come in unto my soul; I sink in deep mire, where there is no standing.” But with sudden defiance, Ivan declares that “the Tsar of Muscovy is not vanquished yet.” He resolves to leave Moscow and to raise his own army from among the common people of Russia, to wipe out the traitorous boyars and princes who have plotted against him. The film finishes triumphantly, as the people of Moscow beg Ivan to return from his self-imposed exile to become their leader once more…
With the exception of the closing scenes and the military battle towards the beginning, the film is composed of interior shots, with a resultant atmosphere of claustrophobia. Allegiances are tangled. The wily counsellor whispering poison into a susceptible ear, the deputy who eyes the Tsarina covetously, or the ambitious mother who plots on behalf of her slow witted son are all suggestive of the intrigue of a Shakespearean history play. The outcome of the plotting is uncertain, but is sure to spell downfall for many of its protagonists.
Much of the characterisation is visually conveyed. Facial close ups are used even for minor characters, giving an impression of a society and interests extending beyond the lives of the core characters. Somehow these close ups seem unusually expressive of the underlying personality, in the way that a good photograph or portrait concerns more than superficial appearance. This may be down to the very strong lighting used, outlining the contours of the face, and frequently reflecting from the characters’ pupils or making the irises appear translucent, as if the soul behind could be guessed at.
Cherkasov, who played Alexander Nevsky to rather insipid effect, is so entrenched in a nest of plotting vipers that he almost acts as the foil to them. It’s a curious story arc to begin with the establishment of the main character to his position of power, and it means there’s a lack of back-story which makes his character initially less involving. As the plot develops, and more of Ivan’s history is revealed, his persona becomes more intriguing. Cherkasov’s performance strays into campness for much of the film, with hardly a scene lacking a rolled eye or a raised eyebrow - he is matched by the nostril flaring and lascivious glances of his ally, Prince Kurbsky. It’s clear that modern sensibilities can’t be applied here, but it makes some scenes hard to take seriously, if not necessarily less enjoyable.
In contrast to this, one particular scene suggests the might and menace of the man. Summoning a courtier, Ivan asks him to transport a chess set to Queen Elizabeth of England, and to remind her that he is the sole merchant who holds all commerce in his hands, with the power to grant or withhold trading privileges to whom he pleases. As his hand toys with the globe on the table before him, gigantic shadows cast on the wall show the man with the world as his plaything, while the shadow of the diplomat is dwarfed before him.
The film was well received by Stalin, showing, as it did, the more positive aspects of Ivan’s reign – the unifying of disparate factions and the national pride which drove Ivan to defend Russia’s borders. But the film’s interest lies less in its historical story than in its creation of a claustrophobic and tangled web of characters, beautifully expressed through those cinematographic techniques which still make a face come alive with subtle meaning over fifty years later.
Ivan The Terrible Part II
Covering the later years of Ivan’s reign, the second part of Eisenstein’s biopic was always going to require walking more of a political tightrope than the first, with the filmmakers placed in the impossible position of trying to positively depict a man who earned his reputation for brutal and merciless leadership during this period. Glossing over the brutalities of Ivan’s people’s army, the Oprichniki, the film provides a character study of a leader in decline, increasingly paranoid and aware of his isolation and the burden of his rule.
Following a quick précis of part one, Ivan is shown intent on revenge against those who have plotted against him. He seeks out the treacherous boyar aristocrats, and taunts them with a declaration that he has created a new army in his own image, just as god created man. With the boyars unequal to the task of staying Ivan’s impetuous course, it is up to the Church to use its influence to seek clemency for those accused by Ivan of treason. But the condemnation of the Church and of his own people only goads Ivan to greater defiance, saying that “now I will be just what you say I am. I will be terrible.”
The only means of stopping Ivan’s seizing of total power is therefore a drastic one. Ivan’s aunt devises a plan to assassinate Ivan and to install her own innocent but simple minded son, Vladimir, as tsar. A plot is hatched, but Ivan is not paranoid without reason, and his wiliness makes him a formidable foe to outwit. The final scenes, shot in colour, show the unforeseen consequences of the plot, as one character meets a brutal end surrounded by sinister hooded figures, their shadows looming threateningly on the walls of the cathedral. Once again, Ivan is triumphant…
The film’s mood is quite different to the first part, with a piecemeal feel to the earlier sections, as if Eisenstein had to gallop through disparate episodes in history in order to get through the story. However once the film returns to the claustrophobic court world and its plotting, the story regains coherence and its denouement is satisfyingly dramatic. The provision of some back-story also gives greater depth to Ivan’s character, engendering some sympathy for the uncompromising nature of his politics.
Gone is the eye rolling of Cherkasov’s Part I Ivan. Instead, he portrays a paranoid and quixotic man, veering from plaintive appeals for loyalty and affection to self-aggrandising displays of power. Stalin, however, was not happy with the character’s introspective doubt, protesting at the portrayal of “a man of strong will and character […] as a spineless weakling, a Hamlet type”. The film was scheduled for extensive revisions. Completed in 1946, it did not receive cinematic release until after Stalin’s death, and ten years after Eisenstein’s death. It’s hard to conceive of the pressures being placed upon these artists to create work under conditions which could entail hard labour or execution for failure to conform to the prevailing political dictat.
With less dramatic coherence than Ivan The Terrible Part I, the film becomes increasingly engaging as the plot progresses, and more of Ivan’s character is revealed through flashbacks. Ivan’s fragile deterioration and the desperate attempts of those around him to oppose him is compulsive viewing. Once again, the extraordinary facial close ups give a beauty and expressiveness to the most simple of scenes.
This second box set gives a fascinating overview of Eisenstein’s later work. Where there are weaknesses in plot or characterisation – primarily in Alexander Nevsky – those can be seen as a consequence of the peculiar pressures of the political context in which the films were created. The Bezhin Meadow short provides an essential insight for film students into Eisenstein’s techniques, while each film displays the distinctive character of his artistic vision, from the vast landscapes of Alexander Nevsky’s battle scene to the exquisitely crafted shots of his actors. KR
