Priklyucheniya Buratino

its music. the emotions. the characters. and the fragments from the book. for few generations from the East, "The Adventures of Buratino" remains one of the most important memories from childhood. a kind of embroidery of feelings who has a lot of similarities with the circus show or with the games in backyard but who preserves, against the passing decades, its fresh flavor. the face and the voice of Dmitry Iosifov, the terrible huge Vladimir Etush as Karabas - Barabas, Arlekino and Malvina, the cat and the fox, the poor Carlo and the last episode. all as gems from a box of secret treasure.it is almost impossible to describe the state, front to TV screen, in each Sunday, for see a new slice of well known adventures who are different by the reading pages. sure, only emotional memories of the child inside us. but important for this small detail. because " The Adventures of Buratino", more than example of Soviet cinematography, it is testimony about a period from the recent history.

One of my childhood movie. After years, it is fresh and amusing, delicate and unique. Piece from Brezhnev era, it is a window. Not to a better world or to circles of dream but to basic truth and deep feelings. The story of puppet is known. Collodi first, than Tolstoy opens same door to adventures, moral lesson, magic and wisdom. But each adaptation has its soul crumbs. In this case - joy of game, honest tale , good actors and art of director to give force to atmosphere. Buratino is more than character but shadow of each child for who world is ball of questions. Like a very old toy in hand of teenager, this film is herald of lost moments whose embers still burning.

While Carlo Collodi's acclaimed Pinocchio book has remained a staple of moral literature for decades, Russian writer Aleksey Nikolayevich Tolstoy's adaptation The Golden Key is also a fascinating take on the classic. What started as a reimagined take for Tolstoy's own children became a staple of Russian children's media from 1936 onward, resulting in numerous film adaptations. One of the most cherished is Leonid Nechayev's made for television musical feature, The Adventures of Buratino (Italian for puppet). Regarded as a cult classic during and after the Soviet era, there's a lot to admire in the film for all ages.

The film follows a boy made of wood named Buratino, who meets the children of Karabas Barabas' theatre and sets out to free them. His goal to do just that is to discover a golden key given by the turtle Tortila. It's easy to say that the film is about the morality of being safe and secure as a little wooden boy, and in presenting that, the filmmakers allowed Buratino to shine on screen. Buratino is a dramatically dynamic character getting himself into countless situations, like being swindled by the crooked Alice the Fox and Basilio the Cat and being followed by the malicious Karabas and his loyal friend Duremar. In addition to his heartfelt creator Papa Carlo, Buratino's supporters include the children's theatre commedia dell'arte performers, who keep trying and failing to teach the titular wooden boy about being good in the world. The contrast between good natured and ill intent are quite obvious through the differing characters, yet thanks to the boastful cast, their performances shine through humor, pathos, horror, anger, and lots and lots of happiness.

Much of the entertainment comes from the soundtrack by composer Alexey Rybnikov and songwriters Bulat Okudzhava and Yuri Entin. Known for their previous work in Russian children's films, the songs are often presented more than spoken dialogue throughout the more than 2 hour runtime, allowing for the story to be told in lieu of musical accompaniment. With a strange balance of serious subject matter and energetic surreal metaphors, it's almost as if we as the audience are experiencing a live theater recreation of the original Tolstoy book. The limited choreography is not as important as the songs' messages and presentation of retro Italy, especially through the eyes of people that lived during those times. Next to the songwriting crew, the real star of the picture is child actor turned filmmaker Dmitry Iosifov as Buratino himself, as he brings the character to life with the right amount of spunk and sarcasm needed for a curious lad like that. The mere factor that he went on to voice Pinocchio of all people later in his life shows just how much of an impact he left on the Russian public.

Although it will obviously catch on more to the European public than internationally, there's no denying how much The Adventures of Buratino has lived on as a classic for the ages. Regardless if you're unfamiliar with the original Tolstoy book or even Collodi's work, this is definitely worth a watch for all ages, albeit with subtitles outside of anyone non-fluent in the Russian language. Much like how Tolstoy was inspired by Collodi to turn one work into another, as well as Nechayev, here's to another possible future for like minded creatives to create their work based off of their own childhood favorites.

It seems that fairy tale films were considered by Soviet filmmakers to be an important genre, as studios devoted large budgets to them, and some directors, like Alexander Row, even specialized in them. This is a film that I happened on at a website devoted to Russian DVDs, videos and CDs. It offered generous clips of most of the films offered, and the look of this particular film really struck my fancy. Even so, when it arrived, I was unprepared for how seriously wacky it turned out to be. It's easily as strange or stranger than `The 5000 Fingers of Dr. T.'

`The Adventures of Buratino and the Golden Key' was Alexander Tolstoy's re-telling of the classic story of Pinocchio, which he remembered from his childhood, but had modified and rewrote over the years. Tolstoy's version has since become a classic in its own right in Russia, and this filming of it was apparently made for Soviet TV in 1975. It's in two separate parts, each about an hour long.

Buratino (i.e. Pinocchio) is played by a remarkable little actor who's kind of a funny-looking kid to begin with, and is transformed into a manic, almost frighteningly cheerful imp by the bizarre costume and makeup he wears. His high-pitched voice and shrill laughter could very well leave your ears ringing, if you have a low tolerance for it, but his performance is sharp, nuanced, and fascinating to watch. The characterizations overall are very broad and over-the-top, and there are lamentably clumsy attempts at slapstick humor by some of the adult actors. The young kids in the cast, however, are a delight to watch, as their performances are natural and apropos, and their costumes and make-up are strikingly beautiful, as are the sets and locations. Most of the younger cast portray puppets in the guise of various traditional theatre characters, (Pierrot, Harlequin, etc.). A couple of scenes almost remind me of live-action versions of Japanese anime, i.e. cute little kids in strange costumes, performing on bizarre, surreal sets.

The overall look of the cinematography seems old-fashioned to me, and most of the time it's hard to guess when this was filmed. Maybe the 1940s, ‘50s, early ‘60s? But the occasional musical set pieces give its vintage away. When a character breaks into song, their voices suddenly and jarringly change into an over-reverberant, highly processed acoustic. The swinging rhythms and accompaniment clearly show signs of being from the latter half of the 20th century. Equally jarring is the old-fashioned look of the cinematography, sets and costumes in contrast to the swinging, commercial jingle-like music. Some of the wackiest elements of the film are in these musical numbers, i.e. a kick-line of frogs (kids in frog outfits) dancing atop a high arched wooden bridge, before jumping into the water one-by-one. Street-cleaners dance joyfully in what appears to be a European town of the late 1700s or early 1800s, except that they are spraying the air with pressurized water hoses as they dance.

There are a few actual puppets in the film, including what appears to be a cricket playing a violin and dispensing sage advice, an element left over from the traditional Pinocchio story. The wily fox and cat who continuously try to bamboozle Buratino are played by adult actors as a shabby pair of beggars, their costumes and makeup only subtly suggesting animal characters.

Unfortunately, the DVD that I got (and supposedly the VHS version as well) are in Russian only, with no subtitles. Anyone familiar with the story of Pinocchio can more-or-less follow the story, and on the web is a synopsis in English of Tolstoy's version that parallels this film almost scene-for-scene. This is a fascinating bit of foreign exotica from the Soviet era, and I'm very glad I had the opportunity to see it. I recommend it highly to anyone who enjoys bizarre and colorful imagery on film. Even if you don't understand a word of Russian (as I don't), it's not very hard to follow, and it's a treat for the eyes.

Bu! A real "boo" in this family feature is a weird cricket and a malicious talking rat (its presence is simulated by a naughty shadow).

Ra! Or rather "rah"! The movie is one delicious treat for anybody who has ears to hear and eyes to see. Personally was quite enchanted by this movie in my early childhood. "Rah!" to Buratino ("A ya govor-r-r-ryu..."). "Rah!" to Karabas Barabas. "Rah!" to Kot Bazilio and Lisa Alisa. "Rah!" to Duremar. "Rah!" to everybody behind this cinema product.

Ti! Tea. After watching the film it is very important to have two or three cups of tea with some candies. To ponder on life's meaning is essential.

No! No disappointment during the film at all. Only crazy ecstasy ("Kva!").

Russian Buratino is a firestorm. His "birth" scene is one of the best in movie industry. Buratino is making good use of wooden sticks in combat. Bang, bang and Arlekin is down on the floor. At the same time he is no evil imp, but a good fellow and a reliable friend. Then goes Buratino's voice: it is very loud, high, and disturbing, with wonderfully pronounced "r-r-r-r" sounds.

What makes this movie so special is frantic music and songs. When watching some musical, there is a feeling that one or two good songs are wrapped into the rest pointless "add-ons". But here every song and every piece of music counts. The words are clever, too: "Na duraka ne nuzhen nozh..."

One musical piece, when the dolls are jumping into the old chest, is simply not of this world, though quite simple.

A few years ago there was a heavy metal composition "Buratino" on the "Radio of Russia" wave. This new version of the old tune sounded great, adding even more "toughness" to the perception of the original.

One of the IMDb reviewers compares "Buratino" heroes to Japanese anime characters. That's err... weird, but it has a point.

The highest mark for this one is all right. Thank you for attention.