Dom na Trubnoy

Boris Barnet, best known for his 1933 film Outskirts, directs this fun little comedy with, of course, a social message. It wouldn't be a Russian film without one! This one isn't particularly preachy, and it isn't as forceful as what one might be used to with Russian silents. It's quite nice and enjoyable. Vera Maretskaya plays a country bumpkin named Paranya who arrives in Moscow seeking employment. She arrives at an apartment building on Trubnaya Street. Among the many people living there are a pretentious married couple, the Golikovs, who have an aristocratic heritage they'd rather not forget, damn the revolution. Mr. Golikov employs Paranya but forbids her to join the worker's union. It's kind of impossible to avoid the union, though, and Paranya is swept up in it, much to Mr. Golikov's chagrin. This film isn't montage heavy, but Barnet does use the technique in his own unique way when he needs it. The filmmaking in general is strong. I didn't love the film. I had a bit of a difficult time following the story at times (perhaps just because I was tired). It's quite enjoyable, though.

According to the "Aristokratische Enzyklopädie" one of the most important characteristics of the communist people it is that they like to do things as a "community" (as it happens with the screenplay of "Dom Na Trubnoy" written by 5 reputed scriptwriters!). When it comes to their fondness to share property and prosperity, at the first opportunity those rules are betrayed without any remorse…as is depicted in this film. When a tough, zaftig Russian girl, named Paranja, goes to Moscow, with her only companion a goose (those interesting animals that can be transformed in "foie gras") searching for her uncle Fiodor she ultimately becomes a servant of a barber and his idle wife. Due to such a strange Bolshevik situation, very soon Paranja becomes class-conscious.

"Dom Na Trubnoy" (The House On Trubnay) was directed by Herr Boris Barnet - a not very well-known Russian film director. This presents another Bolshevik contradiction according to that aristocratic encyclopaedia because this great director has a likeness for… comedies!

Boris Barnet's films are excellent shows of superb timing and thrilling editing (this film it is an excellent display of incredible camera movements and various techniques, including, for example, elegant travel shots, long and foreground shots of the chaotic scenery around the Trubnay house). The picture is made of comic stories based mostly on daily situations with touches of bitterness (making it a kind of Communist social reality satire). That's not to mention the political content but this last subject is always perfectly incorporated into the storyline, without stridencies and as an extra factor that enriches the story.

Due to those Boris Barnet's film characteristics, it made of him a bizarre "rara avis" in Russian silent film; these comic films are a special surprise for the silent fans, communists or not. And now, if you'll allow me, I must temporarily take my leave because this German Count must be careful with the possibility of the awareness of the class-consciousness of the servants.

Herr Graf Ferdinand Von Galitzien http://ferdinandvongalitzien.blogspot.com/

The first half of this is flat out brilliant; very funny, full of inventive photography, great sets and subtle acting for a silent film.

It loses a little something as it goes along and struggles a bit to work in some politically correct Soviet propaganda, but still manages to maintain a terrific sense of humor and a joyfully playful camera-work.

A 19 year old girl and her duck come from the country to Moscow (thinking her father was there, but of course he's just left to return to the country).

All sorts of comic misadventures ensue as she has no place to live, and ends up as a maid in an apartment in the titular building. How she deals with her comically evil employers (who only hire her because she isn't in a union, so they can abuse her) makes up the 2nd half of this beguiling comedy.

If you enjoy this, I'd also recommend director Barnet's "The Girl With the Hatbox" another breezy, sweet silent comedy about life in the Soviet Union in the late 20s.

The apartment building is a mess, with men chopping firewood in the halls, the stairwells filled with debris. Into this comes Vera Maretskaya, a country girl who is searching for her uncle, but who finds a duck and a job as a housemaid. She's hard-working and fouls up constantly, including attacking a play-actor at a performance of the Storming of the Bastille. She's a constant delight, with her bewildered expression, her shapeless clothes, and her immense boots.

The whole movie by Boris Barnettt is a constant whirlwind of motion, with surging crowds, housemaids whacking bed linens, and the aforementioned firewood-chopping. It 's lively, it''s sloppy, and it has such a broad sense of good humor, I was charmed from the get-go and didn't mind the obvious propagandizing.

Apart from a somewhat heavy-handed doctrinaire ending, this is an unexpected delight from Soviet Russia-- a comedy about the residents of an apartment house that includes one of the most screamingly funny practical jokes played on an audience in movie history.