Krieg und Frieden - Teil 1: Andrej Bolkonski

What on Earth was that?

I watched the first hour and switched off. I couldn't bear this film. I dread to think that there were seven more hours to go. It committed the Adaptational Cardinal Sin: making me doubt my appreciation for the source material.

This is a very austere adaptation of War and Peace. Really, this film's true audience is cinéastes! If you are studying filmmaking or enjoy lavishly crafted, well-directed shots, this is the film for you. Every shot is very stylised. You could take each one individually and turn it into a painting. "Spectacle" is certainly the film's priority. Far be it for me to critique the talent that has gone into it, because obviously the production effort is overwhelmingly impressive.

But as an adaptation of Tolstoy, I just hated it! It's so dreary.

"...if I were to be told that what I should write would be read in about twenty years' time by those who are now children, and that they would laugh and cry over it and love life, I would devote all my own life and all my energies to it." ~ Leo Tolstoy

Nobody is laughing and crying and loving life over this film. At all.

The actors averaged about one facial expression each. (There are no exceptions.) The camera barely panned onto their faces in some scenes where emotionally crucial things were happening. I know that might be deliberate, as it could symbolise the very Tolstoyan theme of human smallness amidst the broader, 'infinite' world...but no. Tolstoy is still interested in people despite his belief in their smallness! He still zooms in and privileges their experiences. Indeed, his moments of happiness and humour are exquisitely written.

Not in this film.

Some scenes were just ridiculous. Natasha and Boris's youthful engagement 'kiss' was played to dreary religious music and background noise, and we barely even see the characters speak to each other. Another botch-job is when Marya gives the cross to Andrey. In the book, that scene is heartwarming and poignantly funny! Andrey is a bit cynical about religion but humours his sister anyway. She is aware of this but insists. There's an affectionate humour underlying it. In this film, she puts the cross on him, they make the sign of the cross several times, they both look very grim and miserable, dreary music, cut away to another gorgeous shot...

Jesus Christ.

I reserve judgement because I didn't watch the whole eight hours, but from what I did watch, no. No no no.

Few people have been daring enough to even read Leo Tolstoy's epic piece of literature, "War and Peace (1865-1869)," let alone adapt it to the cinema screen. At over 1000 pages in length, the novel is notorious for its intimidating thickness, but those who have read it will usually agree that it is one of the finest achievements in the history of literature. I've never been courageous enough to attempt the story myself, but Sergei Bondarchuk's 1960s adaptation, 'Voyna i mir (1967)' seems an equally ambitious undertaking. At over eight hours in length – usually divided into four parts – the Soviet film defines "epic" in every sense of the word, and, with a budget of $100 million {over $700 million when adjusted for inflation}, it is also the most expensive movie ever made. Watching such a lengthy film in one sitting seemed a rather daunting task, so I've instead decided to segregate my viewing into the picture's original four parts, over four consecutive nights if possible. The experience began last night with 'Voyna i mir I: Andrey Bolkonskiy (1965),' first released in July, 1965 at the Moscow Film Festival.

I'm the first person to admit that I am disproportionately impressed by epic cinema. The story may be non-existent, the performances may be merely adequate, but if there's sufficient spectacle then I'm a sucker for it. Part One of Bondarchuk's 'War and Peace' possesses spectacle in great abundance, and, in every frame, the picture's considerable budget has been put to excellent use. Even the most brief and discreet sequences are gloriously embellished with lavish set decoration and costuming, to such an extent that the flood of colour and creativity becomes almost overwhelming. Unlike comparable masters of epic cinema, such as the wonderful David Lean, Bondarchuk apparently has little use for precise cinematographic composition, and frequently the photography is entirely hand-held, no mean feat considering the bulkiness of those 70mm cameras. In some ways, the unexpected use of this filming style is distracting and occasionally sloppy, but it also adds a unique liveliness to the proceedings – if I'm going to have to sit through a stolid costume drama, why not brighten things up a bit with a dynamic camera?

The opening hour of 'Andrei Bolkonsky' is a watchable but occasionally tiresome introduction of the major characters, none of which are overly interesting, with the exception of Pierre Besukhov (Bondarchuk himself), whose habit for alcohol and recklessness must be stifled following the inheritance of his father's fortune. It is only during the first bloody battle that the director finally spreads his creative wings, and Bondarchuk's magnificent cinematic scope is almost awe-inspiring to behold, as thousands of soldiers courageously fall in a breathtaking conflict amid the blood and smoke of open warfare. During these sequences, the film generally avoids spending too much time on any one character, and the director is evidently most concerned with offering an "God's eye" view of events, rather than from the perspective of war's insignificant pawns. Using this method, which he also employed to great effect in the English-language picture 'Waterloo (1970),' Bondarchuk is able to retain the "sprawling" tone of his source material, even if such spectacle comes at the expense of any intimacy that we might have had with the story's characters.

'War and Peace' is from personal perspective one of the magnum opuses in literature. It is very powerful, admittedly not the easiest to be gripped by straightaway, and the story is very rich with complex characterisation and themes. It is very difficult to adapt as a result of all of this, as well as the mammoth length. From personal experience, as an avid reader of all genres this and Stephen King's 'IT', at least they're the ones coming to mind at the moment, have the longest lengths of any book.

Anybody who even as much attempts to adapt Leo Tolstoy's magnum opus 'War and Peace' deserves at least a pat on the back for trying, regardless of how successful it is in doing so or not. This adaptation from Sergei Bondarchuk is one of the best, evidenced already in this first part, alongside the 1972 mini-series. When it comes to flawed but towering achievements, this adaptation immediately fits that distinction, something that shouldn't be missed regardless of whether you speak or have knowledge of Russian or not. Part 1 is excellent and starts the adaptation off on a more than promising note, though all four parts have so many fantastic merits in their own way. Even if more than one sitting is necessary as the whole adaptation is very lengthy and heavy going (not meant in a bad way).

Pacing at times could have been tighter as we are introduced to the characters. And the tone is occasionally a touch too sullen, the savage satirical bite that is sometimes adopted in the source material could have been brought out more.

Mostly though the acting is fine. Particularly Vyacheslav Tikhonov, while Bondarchuk himself as Pierre has grown on me and Pierre is one of the more fleshed out characters here.

Visually, 'War and Peace Part 1: Andrei Bolkonsky' is stunning. The scenery and period detail is spectacular and gives a sense of time and place far better than any other version of War and Peace and the cinematography is inventive and enough to take the breath away. The scope and spectacle is also enormous and that is apparent in the truly gut wrenching war scenes. Enhanced by a truly chilling music score, not only music that was emotionally powerful and beautiful to listen to but also gave a sense that the story was set in Russia in the way that few of the other versions managed to achieve, only the 2016 music score came close.

The script is rich in detail, thoughtful and mostly true to Tolstoy's style, and the story while not the easiest to get into straightaway is compelling on the whole, at its best in the war scenes. Fans of the book will be thrilled to find as many of the key scenes, themes and characters kept intact as much as possible and with the full impact they should do, while the human drama is more often than not thoughtful and genuinely poignant, even if here a lot of it is set up. The characters don't come over as caricatures, with Pierre actually being the most real character here. Bondarchuk's direction is remarkable, his task was monumental and he succeeded in making it completely fascinating and the spectacle is not just jaw dropping visually it has soul and emotional impact.

Altogether, excellent first part to a towering achievement. 9/10

I'm really impressed so far. The amount of characters and story is teetering on overwhelming (especially because I've never read the novel nor seen another adaption of War & Peace), but I'm following well enough. The battle sequences have been as insane as everyone else has described them, the scope in all the non-battle scenes is impressive too, the camerawork is frequently risky and inventive in ways that work, and there are some surprisingly surreal and philosophical sequences that are actually working for me and not feeling boring (I say that as someone who isn't a huge Tarkovsky fan). Here's hoping the remaining parts are just as good.

So many good directors began their careers as actors. It's the last thing you'd expect. Bondarchuk, like surprisingly many other actors, knows how to handle a wide screen, how to enchant his images, how to keep seemingly mundane footage alive; he can handle everything from soliloquies to mammoth battle scenes; and he ALMOST manages to put it all together into a perfectly constructed seven-hour epic. Alas, not quite. Instalments three and four (three especially) have the air of having been made in the editing suite, after the director had failed to assemble all the shots he needed. But instalments one and two are perfect. Of the two, Part One is the more breathtaking ... not that there's anything wrong with Part Two, but its scope is narrower: it's heavily pre-occupied with its title character (Natasha), and the "war" part of the story is lost even as a backdrop.

The "war" scenes in Part One are the best in the whole four-part movie, by a long shot - mainly because they have a point. The scenes of Russia away from the front are all implicitly related to the war (and, by some magical means - it's all in Tolstoy, and I don't understand how it works there, either - to each other), and when we see the actual war, crystallised in a single battle, Bondarchuk (as Tolstoy was doing in the early parts of the book) is trying to convey something other than mere chaos.

Watch the whole four-part film. It's amazing. But almost all of the secret of its success is contained within Part One.