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Film: Rio Breaks
Year of production: 2009
UK Release date: 3rd June 2011
Distributor: Mr. Bongo
Certificate: E
Running time: 84 mins
Director: Justin Mitchell
Genre: Documentary
Format: Cinema
Country of Production: USA
Language: Portuguese/English
Review by: Sarah Hill
At a quick glance, the new film by director Justin Mitchell, Rio Breaks, appears to be a documentary about the surfing culture in Rio de Janeiro. However, it soon becomes apparent that it is much more than that: it’s an examination of Rio’s youth-orientated gun crime culture that gives more than a nod to Fernando Meirelles and Kátia Lund’s 2002 film City Of God. More simply, it is also an exploration of adolescence.
Rio Breaks follows two young boys, 12-year-old Naama and 13-year-old Fabio, as they work towards competing in the annual surfing competition which could, potentially, offer them a sponsorship deal.
For these boys, and others like them, surfing is more than just a hobby: it’s a way out of Rio’s shanty towns, known as “The Hills”, where gun crime is rife. It’s the kind of place where, when confrontation arises, it’s impossible to guess who will shoot first – the police or the gang leaders. It’s a situation that both boys have firsthand experience of, having lost fathers and brothers to this pervading culture.
But as the build up to the competition escalates, can the boys’ friendship survive the constant lure of a life of crime, as well as the universal strain that comes as part of growing up?...
The film opens with the calming sound of waves infused with the gentle sound of Latin guitar. Two inquisitive young boys on their first ever boat trip are eagerly learning about an iconic patch of surf that very few have successfully rode from a group of older men whom they clearly look up to; these men were no doubt a lot like them a few years ago. The film then cuts to a series of fast-paced action shots of surfers. However, it soon becomes clear that these kinetic images are not just a celebration of surf culture; they also evoke a frantic sense of urgency because, as the voiceover informs us: “In Rio, surfing can save your life.”
In this part of one of Rio’s 500 shanty towns, a surf school has been set up in order to provide teenagers with free surfing lessons, so as to keep them away from Rio’s ever-present gun culture. With so few options available to them, it is little wonder that children like Naama and Fabio spend all their days on the beach. The appeal of the surf lifestyle is heightened by the careful juxtaposition of expansive shots of the beach with claustrophobic shots of the inside of the boys’ homes where most of the family reside. This sense of confinement is magnified by the fact that when one of the boys takes the documentary crew on a tour of his home, he stands on the spot and the camera doesn’t move an inch.
Despite their impoverished backgrounds, Naama and Fabio are like many teenage boys around the world; they spend all of their time together and engage in constant banter. Mitchell does an excellent job of depicting the relationship between them and ensures that their individual personalities are apparent throughout. Naama is sharp and cheeky and likes to make jokes, whereas Fabio is much more serious and likes to ponder over matters. This is demonstrated when the boys are shown playfully dangling their legs over a ledge and Fabio asks Naama: “Can you picture us falling from here?” Fabio’s morbid sentiments are hardly surprising given that he lost his father to Rio’s gun culture (which claims 15,000 victims per year) – he was killed by the gang he tried to leave. Although both boys talk about their experiences of gun crime in a worryingly relaxed manner, hearing Fabio describe how he felt when his father was killed is heartrending. It is moments such as these that give the film a depth which elevates it beyond a typical surfing documentary.
Despite this sadness, the film also contains some lovely comedic moments; such as when the narrator claims that, even though they are supposed to be practicing for the competition, the boys have “other things on their mind,” and Mitchell cuts to a shot of a beach full of bikini-clad girls. Girls are a frequent distraction for Naama, in particular, as he claims to have numerous girlfriends whom he likens to gum: “Once they stick, they’re hard to get off.”
However, it’s not just girls that are proving to be a distraction for the boys. As the film progresses, Naama and Fabio’s friendship is threatened by the lure of a life as a well-paid gang member. It seems as if life in a gang is a very real possibility for Fabio as he begins to spend less time surfing and more time fighting, eventually giving up surfing altogether. However, it is obvious that this new attitude arises from fear, as Fabio confesses that he is scared of dying. Although the film produces a few candid moments like this, it doesn’t always explore the feelings of the boys in as much detail as it could and sometimes their thoughts about their lives are skirted over somewhat.
Rio Breaks is an interesting and subtle documentary which unobtrusively follows two young boys as they strive to ensure that the gun crime which has blighted their past doesn’t destroy their future. As we witness them growing and changing in front of the camera, it seems that, sadly, for Naama and Fabio, this may prove to be more difficult than they had expected. SH
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Film: The Grim Reaper
Year of production: 1962
UK Release date: 25th April 2011
Distributor: Mr. Bongo
Certificate: 15
Running time: 88 mins
Director: Bernardo Bertolucci
Starring: Francesco Ruiu, Giancarlo De Rosa, Vincenzo Ciccora, Alfredo Leggi, Gabriella Giorgelli
Genre: Drama/Mystery
Format: DVD
Country of Production: Italy
Language: Italian
Marlon Brando; Henry Fonda; Sergio Leone. China, Hollywood and, of course, Italy. Bernardo Bertolucci has certainly settled into the film industry with fluid ease, and with titles like Once Upon A Time In The West and Last Tango In Paris to his name it’s no wonder that he has survived four decades in the business. But mighty oaks grow from humble acorns and The Grim Reaper is that very acorn.
Based on a story by Italian artisan Pier Paolo Pasolini, Bertolucci’s writing and directorial debut is a straight forward whodunit. Made during his salad years, the 22-year-old filmmaker stuck to what he knew: the youth of Rome during the swinging ‘60s. The criminal youth of Rome during the swinging ‘60s, that is.
Bertolucci wastes no time getting the facts straight and introducing the murder mystery, getting the plot underway before the credits even make the screen. Led by a faceless officer, an investigation is triggered by the discovery of a prostitute’s body near Tiber River, placing a number of suspects in the spotlight.
Each candidate attempts to clear his name by giving an account of his afternoon’s activities on that fateful previous day. Ranging from whiney, good for nothing teens to renowned offenders, to naïve friends pursuing nothing but romance and a family of their own, a plethora of characters take to the stage. They each make their case, dividing the film into multiple mini sagas that break the film into bite size chunks: the one thing that unites them all is, of course, their presence at the crime scene - and their distinct ‘approach’ to women...
Plot, surprisingly, is mercifully unfussy and quickly established: commendably, time management seems to be one of Bertolucci’s strong points. Exactly why he adopts this tactic, though, is anyone’s guess. To put it bluntly, interest, excitement and engagement don’t exactly fight for the viewer’s attention in Berotlucci and Pasolini’s slow script. What began as a pleasing time saver results in a drawn out, uninspiring investigation that is largely unchallenging and lacklustre. Having made such an efficient job on the narrative, viewers might expect a little more substance from the duo.
In such circumstances, the audience may turn to the characters for a little stimulation and The Grim Reaper surely delivers a wide choice. The problem is that’s all it delivers. Depth and development; insight and expansion - these are all sadly nonentities and, in short, quality has been sacrificed for quantity. No doubt the story would not work without such a range, but viewing doesn’t work because of it. There are too many characters fragmenting the film’s structure, robbing each individual of the time accumulated from plot simplicity - valuable time which could have allowed growth and engagement. Nevertheless, each man is credibly given their own personality, albeit brief and slightly rushed, with a dependence on old ideas. The shifty convict, the innocent youngsters, the solitary soldier, the trouble-maker: if not convincing, they are, at least, identifiable. After all, such a courageously plentiful cast would be demanding of the most experienced of directors, so perhaps viewers may be sympathetic to Bertolucci’s bold move.
The absence of a protagonist, then, is forgivable. Maybe viewers should look a little deeper for value: what is Bertolucci trying to say? Themes, implications, innovative statements - they must be hidden in there somewhere. Alas, if they are, they are hidden well, dominated by the easy story. The collaborative script leaves little to the imagination, although it must be admitted that this is a refreshing change in alternative cinema and makes for accessible viewing. In fact, one might think that this lends itself to a broad reception, open to the mainstream audiences that the director has since gone on to impress. This is not the case. What it offers audiences is so sparse that most viewers - stirred perhaps by Bertolucci’s blockbusters to dig a little deeper into his back catalogue - are likely to be left unfulfilled. Curiosity may be stoked in terms of research, but for its own merit, The Grim Reaper is nothing more than a dull, overwhelmingly mediocre detective story.
Ultimately, for all its minimalism, Bertolucci’s debut may best have been left to its literature roots. Undeniably, this mere acorn is a more than admirable first effort and there are many aspiring directors out there who could learn a lot from it before planting their very own budding oak; in fact, there are many more experienced directors who could learn from it, too. It’s just a shame that Bertolucci’s talents were not based on something more provoking. As it is, with no hero to relate to, no plot to be pondered and no meaning to be uncovered, it is difficult to care just who did do it. RS
Film: The Brute
Release date: 14th March 2011
Certificate: 12
Running time: 80 mins
Director: Luis Buñuel
Starring: Pedro Armendáriz, Katy Jurado, Rosa Arenas, Andrés Soler, Roberto Meyer
Genre: Drama
Studio: Mr. Bongo
Format: DVD
Country: Mexico
Luis Buñuel is arguably Spanish cinema’s best known filmmaker. Even those who can’t provide an extensive recollection of his filmography will be able to discuss the famous ‘eyeball slitting scene’ in Un Chien Andalou, which is surely a defining example of surrealist filmmaking. This is why it may come as a surprise to many that El Bruto (The Brute) is a classic example of Mexican melodrama. Staunchly opposed to Franco’s regime, Buñuel travelled to Mexico in exile in 1946. Therefore, The Brute falls neatly into what was to be known as his ‘Mexican period’, which took place between 1946 and 1964.
The film tells the story of ‘Bruto’ (Pedro Armendáriz), a giant of a man who has more brawn than brains.
Whilst working at the local slaughterhouse, he is hired by the landlord of a block of flats, Andrés (Andrés Soler), who needs someone to forcibly evict his tenants so that the flats can be demolished, but the locals are refusing to leave without putting up a fight. This leads to Bruto unintentionally killing a man with a punch when he refuses to leave his home.
As a reward for his work, Bruto is invited to live with Andrés and his wife, Paloma (Katy Jurado), with whom he embarks upon an affair. However, Bruto falls in love with Mechee (Rosa Arenas), who is unaware that Bruto is the man who killed her father earlier in the film. Meanwhile, Paloma refuses to let another woman take Bruto away from her...
The Brute is heavily rooted within the conventions of melodrama; it boasts a classical narrative structure, and the soundtrack expertly reflects the drama of the scene. The set which makes up the home of the bourgeois Andrés and his wife is also suitably lavish, which is in stark contrast to the overcrowded homes of the local people. However, although the film is very clearly a melodrama, this does not mean that the film does not possess many of Buñuel’s trademark touches.
Buñuel’s social conscience is highly evident throughout the film. As with a lot of his work, there is an implicit condemnation of Franco’s dictatorship within both the narrative and the film as a whole. The oppressive nature of the regime is conveyed through the character of Andrés and the way in which he is prepared to destroy the lives of the lower classes to further his own gains. In a particularly interesting scene, Andrés plies Bruto with alcohol in order to convince him that it’s the locals who are in the wrong, which can be read as a criticism of the regime’s use of propaganda. Moreover, the link between Andrés and the oppressive patriarchal regime is further enhanced by the revelation that Andrés is also Bruto’s father.
Despite its conventional structure, the film does not shy away from dramatic and controversial images. The scene in which Bruto violently attacks Andrés when he realises life within this patriarchal order is not as good as it seems is uncomfortable to watch, and this awkwardness is heightened when one considers the time in which the film was made. In addition to this, the film’s final scene contains a slight nod towards Buñuel’s surrealist roots as it is enigmatic, unsettling and somewhat absurd.
However, the film isn’t perfect. There are times when the narrative feels slightly rushed; the relationship between Bruto and Mechee isn’t given much time to progress and her character remains underdeveloped as a result. In addition to this, the dialogue is occasionally repetitive and clunky. Bruto’s strength is frequently alluded to and he is directly referred to as a “brute” numerous times throughout the film, as though to emphasise the distinction between people’s perception of him and the fact that, in reality, he is a man who is capable of feeling genuine emotions, such as love and guilt.
Despite this, the film displays some clever comic touches. Andrés’ father is fine comic character played purely for laughs, but the film also displays more subtly comic moments. A good example of this is when one of the residences, surprisingly, manages to coax money out of Andrés and thanks him by telling him that he is the “people’s hero,” before adding, “the dead ones” when Andrés is safely out of earshot.
In general, The Brute is a well-made film that manages to be both comic and tragic whilst exhibiting some of the recognisable conventions of Buñuel’s work. However, on the whole, the film is most certainly a melodrama, and those who are expecting the level of cinematic experimentation that is associated with Buñuel’s more surrealist films may end up being disappointed. SH
Film: Susana
Release date: 14th March 2011
Certificate: 12
Running time: 80 mins
Director: Luis Buñuel
Starring: Fernando Soler, Rosita Quintana, Víctor Manuel Mendoza, Matilde Palou, María Gentil Arcos
Genre: Drama
Studio: Mr. Bongo
Format: DVD
Country: Mexico
In the 1940s, infamous director Luis Buñel moved to Mexico and began a regeneration of his career. Susana (The Devil & The Flesh) was released in 1951, and represents a slight detour from the total surrealism of previous works, such as the internationally renowned Un Chien Andalou and L’Age D’Or. Here, the director focuses on a narrative tale of a family in Mexico, however, the film still maintains the surrealist stamp of Buñel in other, subtler ways.
Susana is set in Mexico, where a wealthy family find their lives disrupted when a beautiful woman arrives at their ranch one stormy night. Susana has recently escaped a reformatory, although she lies and blames an abusive husband for her unruly state, saying she escaped a family he had sent her to live with. The mother empathises with Susana, saying she can stay with them in return for helping them with general chores about the house.
Susana (played by Rosita Quintana) is a beautiful woman, and soon sets pulses racing amongst both the men on the staff and the men of the household. Alberto, the son, takes a particular shine to the newcomer, as does Jesus, who looks after the horses.
The older servant sees the fact that Susana arrived during a storm as a bad omen, warning the matriarch that this can only lead to bad news, and as Susana starts to play each man against each other, and cause disruption in the family home, it appears her warnings should have been heeded…
Historically, Buñel has used shocking images (the slicing of an eyeball in Chien Andalou) and the unexpected (the disintegration of the bishops in L’Age D’Or) to express his surrealist motivations. Susana still rejects the traditional way of life, but as mentioned, this is done in a subtler manner. Buñel takes a traditionally Mexican bourgeoisie family and uses a sexually liberated woman to disrupt them. The ease with which Susana corrupts and manipulates the male characters serves to mock the system which had restrained her, and shows the ease at which the traditional values championed in this era can so easily be destroyed.
Susana appears in the midst of a storm, when she leaves footage is shown of a new dawn. This use of pathetic fallacy and the cry of the maid that a storm could only mean the devil is at work lends a fantastical tone to the film. At times, it feels like Bela Lugosi might appear from behind a stable door.
Susana is supposed to represent a demon in flesh’s form, yet the means Susana uses to seduce Alberto, Jesus and eventually the father (Guadalupe) are mostly innocent, and at times farcical (pretending to fall over being the most common). This could be yet another ploy by Buñel to highlight how fairly innocent sexual desire can be construed as the work of the devil in this traditional society - the tendency of the traditional manner of seeing anything progressive as being dangerous.
The sudden return to reality as the cause of the disruption (Susana) is removed, and the ease with which the mother forgives her husband’s adultery, also highlights the ease with which the bourgeois are content to sweep true feelings under the carpet. The mother again scolds her son for sitting at the table before his father, as she did at the start of the film, suggesting that despite the uproar and emotional damage to her marriage, she will always seek sanctity in convention, returning to her normal daily routine. By doing this, Buñel succeeds in making the viewer question who is actually worse, the manipulative Susana, who is open in her motivations, or the family, who prefer to save face, but in doing so lie to themselves.
Buñel manages to convey the machismo traditional in Mexican society effectively as the men tussle for Susana in quite a possessive bravado fashion. There are some highly charged exchanges between Jesus and Susana as their wits are played against each other at break neck speed, and as a comedy, this should not fail to tickle on occasion. However, the slapstick chain of events does not really deliver the darker moments that the dramatic full title of Susana seems to promise. After the dramatic opening scene’s set to a musical fanfare, the film becomes almost light hearted and devoid of emotion and depth. It can, at times, feel like a series of events thrown together, and the ending is a little too neatly wrapped up, with very little having seemed to have changed in reality to the family. If Buñel truly wished to mock the bourgeoisie, why have they escaped relatively unscathed? They are still wealthy, together, and happy, albeit in denial.
Those seeking a surrealist masterpiece will be disappointed as Susana comes across as a quickly penned comedy, as if Buñel is dipping his toes into farce. Susana seems to walk the line between a western and a musical. There are no dream-like imaginings or occurrences which truly shock.
Susana seems like a fairytale, but with neither the traditional happy ending route followed, nor an outright rejection of the classic formula. This ambiguousness and lightness in itself can be seen as surreal, but should a viewer have to work that hard to find subtleties? Susana is best seen as a comedy, a farcical experiment. It is easy to watch, with the beauty of Quintana being an attraction in itself. However, as a film from a surrealist director who has pushed the boundaries of filmmaking, Susana doesn’t quite fulfil expectations. AT
The Brute, a.k.a. El Bruto, is a bold, brutal and blistering melodrama starring two of Mexico’s finest actors, and is the highlight of Buñuel’s Mexican period.
A brutal landlord hires a powerfully built but simple minded slaughterhouse worker (Pedro Armandariz – Maria Candelaria, Three Godfathers) to evict unwanted tenants, but things soon get complicated when he falls for the landlord’s seductive wife played by award-winning actress Katy Jurado (Broken Lance, High Noon).
Film: The Brute
Release date: 7th March 2011
Certificate: 12
Running time: 80 mins
Director: Luis Buñuel
Starring: Pedro Armendáriz, Katy Jurado, Rosa Arenas, Andrés Soler, Roberto Meyer
Genre: Drama
Studio: Mr. Bongo
Format: DVD
Country: Mexico
Susana, a.k.a. The Devil & The Flesh, is a powerful melodrama in which a beautiful, sultry delinquent girl (Rosita Quintana) escapes from a reform school and finds solace in the home of a well to do family.
She uses her feminine wiles to tempt the men around her, and turns the orderly lives of the locals into a frenzied chaos.
The film uses the power of eroticism to reveal the hypocrisies or modern society.
Film: Susana
Release date: 7th March 2011
Certificate: 12
Running time: 80 mins
Director: Luis Buñuel
Starring: Fernando Soler, Rosita Quintana, Víctor Manuel Mendoza, Matilde Palou, María Gentil Arcos
Genre: Drama
Studio: Mr. Bongo
Format: DVD
Country: Mexico
Film: Zvenigora
Release date: 14th February 2011
Certificate: 12
Running time: 70 mins
Director: Alexander Dovzhenko
Starring: Georgi Astafyev, Nikolai Nademsky, Vladimir Uralsky, Les Podorozhnij, Semyon Svashenko
Genre: Drama/Fantasy
Studio: Mr. Bongo
Format: DVD
Country: Soviet Union
Ukrainian director Alexander Dovzhenko is widely regarded as being one of the most important figures in Eastern European cinema. When his silent film Zvenigora (the first in his ‘Ukraine Trilogy’, along with Arsenal and Earth) was released in 1928, it provoked an animated, antagonised response from the viewing public. Branded “incomprehensible” by some critics, but lauded as a masterpiece by others, the film has been praised for its use of cinematic flair to mix lyricism, mysticism and beauty with Dovzhenko’s own political ideals. Despite the controversy - or perhaps because of it - Zvenigora remains one of the most important works of its genre.
An old man guides a party of riders to the mountain Zvenigora, where he tells them a buried treasure lays hidden. While searching, they discover a trapdoor buried in the earth, and from it rises a spectral monk who haunts and guards the mountain, and chases them away.
We flash forward a thousand years, where the old man (seemingly unchanged), now has two grandsons, the lazy Pavlo and the diligent Timosh, who embodies the brave, hard-working ideals of the new Bolshevik ideals. World War I breaks out, and Timosh heads to the front to fight. His brother stays behind, and returns with the old man to the mountain to again search for the treasure. After a political realisation, Pavlo also joins the war, but on the side of the revolution, and ends up facing his brother in conflict.
While the war rages on, the Ukraine grows and advances from a traditional, agricultural world under the unstoppable advance of modernisation. We see how the old man, Pavlo and Timosh all respond to the changes in their own, very different ways…
The visual beauty of Zvenigora is breathtaking. With haunting imagery, lingering shots of stark, withered landscapes and silhouetted dead trees reaching fingers into empty skies, Dovzhenko’s vision of the old Ukraine looks ravaged, and burnt. Entire passages are presented in slow motion, like the opening shot of riders thundering past the screen in surreal slow motion, and give a frightening, dream-like quality to the film. Other technical achievements include the spectre looming ominously out of the forest as an overlay to the fleeing soldiers, and scenes of soldiers in conflict, which still hold up remarkably well, and have lost none of their impact. The other star of the piece is the score. In any silent film the music must be as much a character as any on the screen, and here it is layed out in an ominous, tonal soundscape for the mythical images to float upon.
That Zvenigora is a propaganda piece is incontestable, Dovzhenko himself even called it: “A party membership card.” However, there is more at play here than just a standard party political, and those viewing Zvenigora merely as a political message will miss out on much. Dovzhenko plays with myth, folklore, and superstition to create a world of traditionalist Ukrainian values and lifestyles, in union with the beauty of nature, and at odds with the impending swell of political conflict. The modernisation of the country – while at the time intended to show the brave might of revolutionary spirit and the force of human muscle - seems now unstoppable and terrifying, and the single-mindedness of the military forces appears often more like wild-eyed, blinkered madness. Crucially, while himself a strident Bolshevik, the director doesn’t merely preach, but involves us deeply in the debate by immersing us in the humanity of all angles; the old world, wrapped in tradition and mythology, quests for buried treasure, and the struggle of the Bolshevik front, and its own quest for modernising the Ukraine.
The problems with Zvenigora come largely from the ignorance of its audience. A little research into the period and the director reveals much about the themes of the film, the struggles of the time and the Ukrainian people’s attitude towards their country, and where it was heading. Armed with this knowledge, the whole thing makes a lot more sense, but without it viewers will doubtless be left dazed and bemused by the myriad stark and confusing imagery. Each line of dialogue will confuse further, as the frames of reference are so far removed from what we know of modern day cinema or indeed modern day philosophy or politics. As such, one is left simply to admire the stunning imagery on screen, and absorb a general essay on a country struggling with changes to long established traditions. Inevitably you might emerge feeling that you have missed the point, and it is somewhat heartening to learn that upon its release in 1928, audiences were just as confused. The film was branded over-ambitious and even incomprehensible. To these charges Dovzhenko replied: “Look for the reason for incomprehensibility in yourself.”
Technically rich and satisfying, but largely impenetrable to those unfamiliar with the period or its themes, Zvenigora is probably one for those already well versed on Eastern European cinema. For the rest of us, aside from its surface charms, it will remain largely a mystery. LOZ
Film: Arsenal
Release date: 14th February 2011
Certificate: 15
Running time: 87 mins
Director: Alexander Dovzhenko
Starring: Semyon Svashenko , Amvrosi Buchma, Georgi Khorkov, Dmitri Erdman, Sergey Petrov
Genre: Drama/War
Studio: Mr. Bongo
Format: DVD
Country: Soviet Union/Ukraine
First released in 1929, Arsenal, one of Alexander Dovzhenko’s great masterpieces of silent soviet cinema, is being re-released on DVD. Also known as January Uprising in Kiev in 1929 when it was first released in the UK, it is the second movie of Dovzhenko’s Ukraine trilogy, sitting in between 1928s Zvenigora and 1930s Earth. Though originally criticized in Soviet Russia for being counter revolutionary, Arsenal was received better in the West for obvious reasons.
Beginning in 1917, Russia is suffering during the Great War, as Tsar Nicholas II sits in his office largely oblivious to the woes and circumstances of his fellow countrymen.
Returning from the frontline, are a number of defecting soldiers, one of which is the film’s hero Tymish Stoyan (Semyon Svashenko), who is heading back to his native Kiev where he intends to work in the Arsenal factory.
In the lead up to the Ukrainian Constituent Assembly elections, which are haphazardly arranged in the wake of the Ukraine/Soviet war, it soon transpires that the city’s Bolsheviks are not being very well represented. Allying themselves with the Soviet forces, the Bolsheviks soon become involved in an armed uprising in one of the city’s munition factories, the famous January Uprising, which gave rise to the Russian Revolution. Stoyan is obviously also involved in the armed uprising, becoming a ‘bulletproof’ revolutionary hero in the film’s famous closing scene...
The film’s narrative can be difficult to follow on first viewing but it is through the Dovzhenko’s montages and imagery that Arsenal is remembered as a compelling piece of Soviet propaganda film making.
The accompanying music throughout the film’s 70 minute duration is provided by a discordant string section which only adds to the malevolent air of revolutionary menace within this historical epic. There are times in which the melodies become sweeping, but generally Igor Belza’s score promotes a genuinely unsettling tone.
The imagery of the movie has similarly lost none of its potency, now faithfully remastered for its DVD release. Early sections when a woman beats her children and a man beats his horse whilst the Tsar writes letters in his cushy office do well to define the suffering of the people at the lower end of the social spectrum. Meanwhile, a following sequence set upon the frontlines where a soldier falls prey to German laughing gas is frantically disturbing. Importantly, as a movie that is supposed to glorify the armed uprising of a Bolshevik movement, Arsenal’s representation of war and violence is one of disdain. Accompanied with shots of smiling corpses, Arsenal presents you with an array of images that are guaranteed to stick within your imagination.
The film can also be appreciated allegorically, a sequence involving a runaway train implies the unstoppable movement towards revolution - its subsequent crash may perhaps represent the inherent danger of such great social transition. Yet, with Tymish Stoyan emerging undamaged from the wreckage, the film finds its heroic protagonist worthy of the Soviet Union.
Stoyan himself is a brooding presence, a distinguished brow accenting his unblinking steely eagle eyed gaze. For all the horrors that happen around him, all the executions, he remains an enigmatic hero. In the final scene, in which he comes to literally portray the undying Bolshevik spirit, his muted screams for death as he bares his chest to the barrels of several enemy rifles provides much food for thought that will linger long after the credits finish rolling.
For newcomers, Arsenal is a very difficult watch, an overpowering score, a series of imposing black-and-white faces and distorted facial expressions perhaps echo the socio-political purposes of the film. For fans of this specific genre, however, the re-release of Arsenal is worthy of experiencing all over again. For anyone else, history students or those who are just curious in silent cinema, Dovzhenko’s masterfully creates mesmerizing and often disturbing shots that are rife with complexity and are essentially timeless. CPH
Zvenigora stars Nikolai Nademsky (Earth), as the grandfather of Timoshka (Semyon Svashenko), whom he alerts to secret treasure buried in the mountains, which the boy spends the rest of his life trying to find.
The film wonderfully blends both lyricism and politics, and uses its central construct to build a montage praising Ukrainian industrialisation, attacking the European bourgeoisie, celebrating the beauty of the Ukrainian steppe and re-telling ancient folklore.
Zvenigora is a most remarkable avant-garde film, which has a unique style in its approach, and disregards the more traditional storytelling devices.
Film: Zvenigora
Release date: 14th February 2011
Certificate: 12
Running time: 70 mins
Director: Alexander Dovzhenko
Starring: Georgi Astafyev, Nikolai Nademsky, Vladimir Uralsky, Les Podorozhnij, Semyon Svashenko
Genre: Drama/Fantasy
Studio: Mr. Bongo
Format: DVD
Country: Soviet Union
From trailblazing Soviet director Alexander Dovzhenko’s comes the first film of his loose trilogy, Arsenal (1929).
Arsenal is the remarkable, action-packed film based on the real life events of the Ukrainian Civil War, and stars Semyon Svashenko in the lead role.
Set in the bleak aftermath and devastation of World War One, a recently demobbed soldier, Timosh, returns to his hometown Kiev, after having survived a train wreck. His arrival coincides with a national celebration of Ukrainian freedom, but the festivities are not to last as a disenchanted Timosh soon begins to clash with the city’s authorities when he starts to agitate for the adoption of the Soviet system.
Arsenal is an emotionally wrenching film.
Film: Arsenal
Release date: 14th February 2011
Certificate: 15
Running time: 87 mins
Director: Alexander Dovzhenko
Starring: Semyon Svashenko , Amvrosi Buchma, Georgi Khorkov, Dmitri Erdman, Sergey Petrov
Genre: Drama/War
Studio: Mr. Bongo
Format: DVD
Country: Soviet Union/Ukraine
