HELL YES!!! Ok, now that I have admitted my nerdy unrequited love of the fantasy/scifi genre we can move on. What was most interesting about Night Watch was how it differed from the established fantasy thrillers in cinema, especially the powerhouse Hollywood blockbusters. Most obvious is the fact that, at least in this film, the bad guys win. If there is one true rule of the fantasy genre, it is the good guys have to win. The fantasy genre thrives on the sorts of cultural archetypes that have grown into euphemisms and mentalities in our cultures, the white knight must always triumph over the black knight, etc (admittedly, I don't know a lot about Russian folk tales or myths, so I can't really set up a paradigm for thinking about archetypes in Russian culture). This is why I find the film so interesting, it takes what we think we know about fantasy adventure movies or stories and turns it on its ear.
The "Warriors of light", the good guys in the film, are sneaky bureaucrats who work in the shadows and licence the very evil they seek to destroy, all in the name of balance. It is no surprise that we do not hear one of the night watch espousing the virtue of good over evil, they instead regurgitate the mantra "its our job". It would probably be a little far-stretching to say that the bureaucracy of the night watch and the battle of good and evil is satire for Russia's social situation at the end of the 20th century, but it is not hard to imagine that the film takes on the cultural aspects of the society in which it was created.
Moving on to Anton, the main character, the hero... the white knight. Anton is a semi-violent drunk, who in order to get his wife back tried to murder his unborn child with the help of a witch... frankly if he was not the character most on screen, we would assume him to be the villain. He is in fact the impetus to the breaking of the one true archetypal rule of fantasy film; it is his betrayal of his son that eventually causes the boy to join the warriors of dark and tip the balance in favor of evil. Anton is not completely evil, he does have compassion for people and his recently realized son, its just that his choices have condemned him to be the harbinger of doom.
Ultimately, I liked it, and I think a lot of it had to do with the fact that it did invert the fantasy paradigm. On a minor note, the plot tends to jump at a few points, which is a little characteristic of many Russian films, you have to get used to not being spoon fed the plot. Also, you can definitely see the trend in Russian film to look like it was made ten years prior than its release date. But if you can get past the graphics and plot jumps, its a pretty good movie (but keep in mind that I love that great cinematic milestone and pinnacle of film achievement "Krull").
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
The Return
Ok, so here's what's what, I'm torn on this movie's interpretation, so let's get the basic stuff out of the way. First the "visual quotes" from Tarkovsky. Water is the defining element to this film, bordering on the obsessive. The sight of it, the sounds of it, the water's movement all create the perpetual water motif in The Return, the movie involves itself with so much water that by the end of the film even the audience feels just a little soggy. Whether this is a concrete metaphor or more of a Tarkovsky-esque nature theme is a little hard to discern, the water could be a metaphor for emotion, possibly fear or sadness in particular. It may also be an emulation for those emotions already being experienced by the main character Ivan. Then again, it could just be water.
Now, moving on to the father. This character is enigmatic, on one hand his cruelty to his sons is inexcusable, but on the other he seems to have squeezed 12 years worth of parenting into the course of a few days. Keeping in mind the end sequence when Ivan and Andrei must drag their father's body back to the car, all the skills they use from the point of the father's death are from lessons he himself taught them. Even certain lines of dialogue are used in refrain, like "with our little hands". It is obvious that the father did not nurture his sons on their journey (which was really just his journey, although we don't know for what, suggesting possibly that parenting his children was the last phase of his journey and he was meant to die), but he did instill them, however harshly, with certain values that resonate at the end of the film once the boys have to fend for themselves. So even though he was the biggest ass-hole dad of all time, he was still a dad.
Now, moving on to the father. This character is enigmatic, on one hand his cruelty to his sons is inexcusable, but on the other he seems to have squeezed 12 years worth of parenting into the course of a few days. Keeping in mind the end sequence when Ivan and Andrei must drag their father's body back to the car, all the skills they use from the point of the father's death are from lessons he himself taught them. Even certain lines of dialogue are used in refrain, like "with our little hands". It is obvious that the father did not nurture his sons on their journey (which was really just his journey, although we don't know for what, suggesting possibly that parenting his children was the last phase of his journey and he was meant to die), but he did instill them, however harshly, with certain values that resonate at the end of the film once the boys have to fend for themselves. So even though he was the biggest ass-hole dad of all time, he was still a dad.
Monday, January 26, 2009
Brother
Aleksei Balabanov's Brother marks Russian cinema's first foray into the mafia/gangster genre, and Sergei Bodrov's Danila contends with many classic film mobsters. His arrival in St. Petersburg is sort of vague, we understand that Danila was a soldier doing some kind of war, and although he claims to have been a clerk at HQ, his familiarity with violence and guns seems to suggest otherwise. He is in this sense enigmatic, he is a kind, genuine, and generally amiable character who just happens to be good at violence. This is ironic then that his brother is the contract killer, when his brother is mean and apparently horrible at killing people. First, Viktor is not seen actually killing anyone throughout the entirety of the film, and gives all of his assignments to Danila; second, he sells Danila out to Kruglyi. I think Danila could best be characterized as initially apathetic (aside from his love for music), just doing things for his brother because they are brothers, not because he likes killing. He merely does the things that he is good at, and it really isn't until the end of the film when he makes a choice to continue people when he begins hitchhiking to Moscow. Keep in mind that all the killing he has done so far (and really everything else he has done so far) has been reactionary, the assinations are done for his brother, and the extra killings of other hitmen are done for the safety of people he meets and cares about, even his defense of Sveta is because her husband beats her, which actually suggests a moral code for Danila, which is in turn supported by his love for his family. To put a capstone on it, Danila Bagrov is like Michael Corleone on steroids and with an itchier trigger finger.
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Little Vera
Pichul's Little Vera takes place in the starkly different Perestroika period. Amidst the crumbling of the Soviet Union we follow the life of the titular protagonist Vera and her struggle to fit with her surroundings. Prof. Isham asks in the prompt to this blog if we can call Vera a heroine, and the answer is yes. Although she is not necessarily a perfect character (she's disrespectful, impulsive, and dismissive), she induces that sort of mixture of admiration and pity which we often find in tragic heroes in literature. We are meant to understand her desire to be her own person (whether or not we like the person she is becoming is ultimately irrelevant). It would be a little cliche to say that Vera is a product of her environment, but it is not difficult to she how an impoversihed dysfunctional family coupled with a lack of direction in her countries social structure have lead Vera into a problematic life situation. This film is also presented as much grittier than other films we have watched (Moscow Does Not Believe in Tears, Irony of Fate) even when tey are temporally similar, this add to the dismal gritty realism that Pichul is trying to portray.
But what I found most singularly interesting about this film is when Vera attempts suicide. I personally found myself hoping she would succeed in her attempt, yes she would be dead, but she would be free of her f*#$@ed up situation (and yes, that is the only way to describe it). So I suppose the tragedy of the whole situation is that she has to live to deal with the seemingly unmerited circumstances of her own life.
But what I found most singularly interesting about this film is when Vera attempts suicide. I personally found myself hoping she would succeed in her attempt, yes she would be dead, but she would be free of her f*#$@ed up situation (and yes, that is the only way to describe it). So I suppose the tragedy of the whole situation is that she has to live to deal with the seemingly unmerited circumstances of her own life.
Moscow Does Not Believe in Tears
Vladimir Menshov's Moscow Does Not Believe in Tears is the story of the factory worker Katya and her abrupt transformation into adulthood upon the birth of her illegitimate child. The film depicts Katya as the moderate character between two extremes. Antonina, who is loyal, caring, and in a steady marriage through most of the film, and Liudmila, who is somewhat of a gold digger and is constantly scheming to find a wealthy well-to-do husband. These two characters represent the extremes in which Katya fluctuates, the boring or the scheming (the irony being that she reaps the benefits of neither lifestyle and ends up with a fatherless child because of Liudmila's schemes).
The transition in time for the film also gives insight into the collective mentalities of the film concerning both the thaw and the era of stagnation. It is evident at the beginning of the film that all the characters are filled with dreams and hope, and this is amplified by their youth. The second part of the film deals with the realization that all the dreams were ultimately illusions. In this regard Katya has the distinct advantage of finding out early that her dreams were illusory, and this might account for her success (at least socially) in the second half of the film. It would appear that this film impresses itself with idea that the era of stagnation was a time of realization for people and in the case of Katya it would be the triumph of personal happiness over the choices of her past.
The transition in time for the film also gives insight into the collective mentalities of the film concerning both the thaw and the era of stagnation. It is evident at the beginning of the film that all the characters are filled with dreams and hope, and this is amplified by their youth. The second part of the film deals with the realization that all the dreams were ultimately illusions. In this regard Katya has the distinct advantage of finding out early that her dreams were illusory, and this might account for her success (at least socially) in the second half of the film. It would appear that this film impresses itself with idea that the era of stagnation was a time of realization for people and in the case of Katya it would be the triumph of personal happiness over the choices of her past.
Ivan's Childhood
The most impressive part of Ivan's Childhood was really the most impressive part Tarkovsky's films in general, his ability to recapture reality. We saw in Mirror, Tarkovsky's lack of the Socialist Realist imagery or message that had dominated Russian cinema, and this trend id really perfected in Ivan's Childhood. Tarkovsky's depiction of Ivan is problematic in this way, as I wrote in my paper for this class (and yes, this is blog cheating, but I don't care). Ivan's Childhood could be seen as anti-Nazi or anti-war, but what seems more poignant in this film is Tarkovsky's recapturing of the dismal situational aspects of war in general, otherwise he would probably not show his protagonist as a strong-willed, and almost unstoppable character, but rather as an unwitting victim (although in the case of Ivan it is probably both). This attempt to capture reality by the director then really has no message itself; it only has the message which we, the audience, project onto it. Tarkovsky's film is not anti-Nazi or anti-war, but instead it would be more fitting to say that we ourselves are anti-Nazi or that the war itself is anti-war through the progression of its own atrocities.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Mirror
Ok, so this one was tough. I could try and make some broad sweeping analysis, but it would be shallow and most likely wrong. So instead here's what I can figure out...
- The main character is one actress playing both Alyosha's mother and wife.
- Tarkovsky is playing with major elemental imagery using water, fire, wind, and earth. (but I can't seem to figure out what it means exactly)
- The sequences in black and white are either dreams or bridges between the "mother" and "wife" phases of the main character.
... I know, its not a lot, but the only analysis I can offer is that the lives of the two women (wife and mother) are mirrors of each other, especially concerning Alyosha.
- The main character is one actress playing both Alyosha's mother and wife.
- Tarkovsky is playing with major elemental imagery using water, fire, wind, and earth. (but I can't seem to figure out what it means exactly)
- The sequences in black and white are either dreams or bridges between the "mother" and "wife" phases of the main character.
... I know, its not a lot, but the only analysis I can offer is that the lives of the two women (wife and mother) are mirrors of each other, especially concerning Alyosha.
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