Russian Movies
Mar. 29th, 2013 02:00 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
osprey_archerRecently I showed my friend Emma my favorite Russian movie, House of Fools, which I've seen an unprecedented three times and still love and think is a brilliant introduction to Russian movies. The cinematography is characteristically stunning, none of the characters we care about die, and when characters are offered chances to behave horribly - they don't automatically use them!
So at the end of the movie, misty eyed with cinematographic bliss, I looked at Emma - only to find her huddled on the opposite end of the sofa. "Most depressing movie ever!" she croaked.
Which I suppose it is, until you've seen other Russian movies; then you will realize that House of Fools is in fact far, far behind in the brutal race for the "most depressing" Oscar. Consider its competition:
There's Tycoon, which is The Social Network, Yeltsin-era Russian style. Platon and his college buddies make a ton of money by manipulating the newly liberalized Russian banking system to steal from widows and orphans. Then Platon betrays everyone and his former friends come after him. With guns!
And if that's not enough betrayal for you, there's always Brother, in which a veteran of the Chechen wars becomes embroiled in criminal shenanigans that end with him shooting his older brother who planned to offer him up as a fall guy to his criminal bosses.
And speaking of the Chechen wars - and who can get away from the Chechen wars - House of Fools also takes place during the Chechen wars - there's Prisoner of the Mountains. Two Russian soldiers get taken prisoner by partisans in the Caucasus, escape, get caught, at which point the older one gets shot, but the younger escapes again with the help of the young daughter of one of his captors with whom he has developed a Stockholm-syndromian affinity.
And then, as he trudges away, her village gets carpet-bombed. He's the only character in the whole movie who survives.
But we’re still several echelons above the bottom of the barrel of despair. Next up is Burnt by the Sun, a slice of Stalinist Russia with gorgeous sun-dappled cinematography reminiscent of that in Bright Star.
But as we all know nothing gold can stay, particularly not in Russian movies. A bitter NKVD agent proceeds to insinuate himself into this golden world in order to get his former beloved's current husband arrested. The titles at the end helpfully inform us that this will lead to the whole rest of the family, including the adorable daughter, getting shot or sent to the gulag.
Don't date future NKVD agents. It never helps.
For a lower body count but, stunningly, even higher misery quotient, there's The Barber of Siberia, in which young cadet at a tsarist military academy falls for a visiting American woman. Unfortunately, his commanding officer falls for her too. The cadet, driven mad by jealousy, leaps off the stage in the middle of a performance of The Magic Flute, attacks his commanding officer, and is duly sent to Siberia.
This may be the single most depressing movie ever made, not so much because it is brutal - it's not like anyone's died, after all! - but because the tragedy is so pointless. Really? He couldn't even wait till the opera was over to attack his commanding officer? Really?
I could go on, but there I’ll stop. Almost every Russian movie I've seen, but for a couple Soviet comedies and the delightful Cheburashka children's movies, wends its way through misery to end in black despair.
Why, then, do I keep watching?
Well. The cinematography is stunning. The light is crisp, the colors are saturated, and the depth and length of the shots gives the stories an epic quality - the more so when coupled with despair. There’s lots of despair in epics. Beowulf dies, Achilles dies - actually I think that doesn’t happen in the Iliad proper - Odysseus’s entire crew bites the dust, etc. etc.
And they’re unpredictable. Doubtless Russian movies have their own patterns - all kinds of movies seem to have their own patterns; but the patterns are different from Hollywood patterns, which means I can’t necessarily shout “That’s the love interest/red herring/villain!” at the screen with 99% accuracy whenever we meet a new character. It's so refreshing!
So at the end of the movie, misty eyed with cinematographic bliss, I looked at Emma - only to find her huddled on the opposite end of the sofa. "Most depressing movie ever!" she croaked.
Which I suppose it is, until you've seen other Russian movies; then you will realize that House of Fools is in fact far, far behind in the brutal race for the "most depressing" Oscar. Consider its competition:
There's Tycoon, which is The Social Network, Yeltsin-era Russian style. Platon and his college buddies make a ton of money by manipulating the newly liberalized Russian banking system to steal from widows and orphans. Then Platon betrays everyone and his former friends come after him. With guns!
And if that's not enough betrayal for you, there's always Brother, in which a veteran of the Chechen wars becomes embroiled in criminal shenanigans that end with him shooting his older brother who planned to offer him up as a fall guy to his criminal bosses.
And speaking of the Chechen wars - and who can get away from the Chechen wars - House of Fools also takes place during the Chechen wars - there's Prisoner of the Mountains. Two Russian soldiers get taken prisoner by partisans in the Caucasus, escape, get caught, at which point the older one gets shot, but the younger escapes again with the help of the young daughter of one of his captors with whom he has developed a Stockholm-syndromian affinity.
And then, as he trudges away, her village gets carpet-bombed. He's the only character in the whole movie who survives.
But we’re still several echelons above the bottom of the barrel of despair. Next up is Burnt by the Sun, a slice of Stalinist Russia with gorgeous sun-dappled cinematography reminiscent of that in Bright Star.
But as we all know nothing gold can stay, particularly not in Russian movies. A bitter NKVD agent proceeds to insinuate himself into this golden world in order to get his former beloved's current husband arrested. The titles at the end helpfully inform us that this will lead to the whole rest of the family, including the adorable daughter, getting shot or sent to the gulag.
Don't date future NKVD agents. It never helps.
For a lower body count but, stunningly, even higher misery quotient, there's The Barber of Siberia, in which young cadet at a tsarist military academy falls for a visiting American woman. Unfortunately, his commanding officer falls for her too. The cadet, driven mad by jealousy, leaps off the stage in the middle of a performance of The Magic Flute, attacks his commanding officer, and is duly sent to Siberia.
This may be the single most depressing movie ever made, not so much because it is brutal - it's not like anyone's died, after all! - but because the tragedy is so pointless. Really? He couldn't even wait till the opera was over to attack his commanding officer? Really?
I could go on, but there I’ll stop. Almost every Russian movie I've seen, but for a couple Soviet comedies and the delightful Cheburashka children's movies, wends its way through misery to end in black despair.
Why, then, do I keep watching?
Well. The cinematography is stunning. The light is crisp, the colors are saturated, and the depth and length of the shots gives the stories an epic quality - the more so when coupled with despair. There’s lots of despair in epics. Beowulf dies, Achilles dies - actually I think that doesn’t happen in the Iliad proper - Odysseus’s entire crew bites the dust, etc. etc.
And they’re unpredictable. Doubtless Russian movies have their own patterns - all kinds of movies seem to have their own patterns; but the patterns are different from Hollywood patterns, which means I can’t necessarily shout “That’s the love interest/red herring/villain!” at the screen with 99% accuracy whenever we meet a new character. It's so refreshing!
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no subject
Date: 2013-03-29 06:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-03-29 06:34 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-03-29 07:05 pm (UTC)I gather there are other ways in which it plays into the context of its time as well.
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Date: 2013-03-29 07:28 pm (UTC)did you see country of the deaf and hipsters (stilyagi)? first is depressing like whoa but stars STUNNING khamatova performance, and second is bright and shiny and wonderful.
no subject
Date: 2013-03-29 08:27 pm (UTC)I haven't seen either of those movies, but Hipsters looks awesome (although I bet a lot of the English viewers who saw it were totally confused, like, those aren't hipster clothes at all!).
And Khamatova was in Good Bye, Lenin! That was an awesome movie.
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Date: 2013-03-29 08:40 pm (UTC)khamatova is one of the best russian actresses, hands down.
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Date: 2013-03-29 08:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-03-30 09:40 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-03-30 03:09 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-03-29 07:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-03-29 08:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-03-30 12:06 am (UTC)I also found it interesting because there are a few scenes where they used real explosives in real forests. No big orange Hollywood explosions here! There's something about whole trees falling down that lends realism to a scene.
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Date: 2013-03-29 08:20 pm (UTC)http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Moscow_Does_Not_Believe_in_Tears
p.s I am very fond of the soviet-era cinematography :)
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Date: 2013-03-29 09:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-03-30 08:50 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-03-30 11:40 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-03-30 03:08 pm (UTC)