Umirayushchiy lebed

I can assume that Bergman must watched this and created THE MAGICIAN's character (Max von Sydow did a perfect job). And our infamous, notorious Hideshi Hino's cult masterpiece MERMAID IN A MANHOLE, somehow utilized this tragic novella by Zika Barantsevich (what a genius, made every artists reflected themselves in a hysterical way including both of cult of feminine and pursuing of death).

How close that beauty is between death, and I think it would be no necessity to bring up Kierkegaard's theory or Psychoanalysis to kill this beautiful images, which to itself is brilliant enough in the cinematic way.

The mute protagonist, what a brilliant sleight of hand to adapt into the silent film, well indeed, it is way more moralizing to appreciate those tragedy in a disability's POV, and we awry feel that the dishonesty of the male in the beginning is way more pathetic than the ending of killing. Perhaps, we do not have enough hysteria from this crazy artist, but what we see somehow is a quintessential and clear pathos that Russian directors at that moment bring to us, this peculiar art of morality and psycho.

I see also a lot Bergman's threads in it, like the stage-within-film, painting-within-film. And even some avant-garde, dolly out, tinted dream surrealism, and depth in the composition with a beautiful parallel action from the front and back with dishonesty of the partner, how brilliant, how moralizing (decreased the CITIZEN KANE's reputation again). And some tribute, probably to the CARMENCITA(1894)or Annabelle's dance (1894-1895) I'm tired with figuring out which dance is earlier, but they do somehow ground this aesthetic of reproducing the dance over the screen.

Poor Gizella Love the plot, evoke my new script.

I am afraid Vera Karalli. After watching the second film with her participation, I was convinced of this. I did not see so sad a face from anyone of actress. And it is exactly not plaintive, like "uncle, give me kopeck" (It is Russian idiom), namely sad, mystical sad. As for me it is a clear why she was taken to the role of Gizella and even, based on film plot, clear why she with her "The Dying Swan" was image of death. In combination with face of Karalli, appropriate music and Black and White and Blue colors the episode of the prophetic sleep of Gizella was shown to me more terrible than any there "Jawes" and "Pets cemeteries". By the way, they selected actor to the role of maniac- artist ideally. Perhaps, unique persons, who pleasant to me in this history, are, certainly, Vitold Polonsky, who as always is charming and lovely, Ivan Perestiani and Alexander Kheruvimov. And nevertheless I do not like films with the ending-death (I did not see anything pre-revolutionary film where in the end nobody would die). As for me the Soviet silent movies and early sound Soviet films are somehow closer. Let it is a socialist realism, let in the ending enamored heroes march on the Red Square and sing songs about Motherland, but all it looks though and is utopia, but whether more humanly that.

The Dying Swan is surpassingly beautiful, the kind of movie you can sink into. Bauer seemed to be someone who loved the medium of film, there's beautiful framing and deep focus photography from the very first scene where a father and daughter go fishing whilst in the deep background we see a horse lolling at the waterside. It's a film filled with sunlight (seems strange that the black and white medium could be used so effectively to portray natural light). You get the idea that filmmakers used to be more subtle, Bauer crafts beauty from the shadow of a palm frond on a sunny porch, and uses moving camera shots sparingly and for maximum effect.

The film also has elements of humour, Bauer clearly enjoying making a mockery out of a fatalistic death-obsessed Count who sees his own amateurish daubs as masterpieces. Russia was supposedly in the grip of morbidity in this period.

The story is about a young woman (Gizelle) who is mute and lives with her father. She falls in love with a young man, stintingly, and is upset when she discovers a dalliance of his. The great passion of her life is dancing so she resolves to leave home and become a ballerina. She is sad and dances a solo ballet piece which is meant to imitate the death of a swan, and is in fact, very beautiful. The actress Vera Karalli was actually a great ballet dancer and danced with Diaghilev's Ballets Russes. Often the dancing in old films is a bit less than spectacular (I'm thinking of Les Vampires, and Der Heilige Berg), that is not the case here.

I've mentioned the painter Alma Tadema in reviews before, and I think Bauer does some shots which are similar to his type of preoccupations, shots of architecture, generally balconies with glimpses of landscape or seascape in the distance. Bauer is not quite as exaggerated, which is good seeing as the story is of folks more introverted that the Romans. I think early filmmakers particularly Griffiths were highly influenced by Victorian painters, unfortunately film's love affair with painting and image seems to have wained since then.

What I like about Mr Bauer as well are his dream sequences, which seem to resonnate at a primordial level (one might even call them Lynchian - especially as the one in this film is premonitive). There is a terrific one in Bauer's After Death (1915). The dead Zoya Kadmina (Vera Karalli again) appears to the student Bagrov in a dream, a wonderful rolling landscape of wheat-sheaves rolling away into the distance, her face incandescent. In Dying Swan Gizelle dreams that the Count who is painting her has already killed a predecessor of his obsession, she warns Gizelle that this is what is waiting for her and takes her down to a dungeon where hands close in on her, grasping.

Recommended to all.

Yevgeni Bauer's "The Dying Swan" is a finely-crafted melodrama that involves all of your emotions, making the viewer not just a witness to, but a part of the psychological struggles of its characters. The story idea is an interesting one, and the script very nicely adapts the idea to the silent screen.

There are essentially only five characters in the story, yet they present a finely-tuned balance between the three ordinary, predictable characters and the two creative geniuses who live for their art. The ballerina Gizella and the artist Glinskiy are both very interesting, and with Bauer's expert guidance the actors (Vera Karalli, who contributes an enchanting ballet sequence, and Andrei Gromov) bring them to life effectively. The artist character is especially nicely drawn, highly eccentric and obsessive, yet with enough balance to make sure that he does not become a stereotype. The other three characters are used effectively as a balance, both in the story developments and in establishing the personalities of the two leads.

Bauer's technique, as always, shows a sure hand, using special techniques at the right places. The dream sequence is particularly affecting, with an atmosphere carefully established, the camera slowly drawing away from Gizella's bed, and then the dream itself using some creative visuals.

The story of love and obsession draws you in almost effortlessly, and it's not possible to pull back, even when the sense of foreboding becomes almost unbearable. As a whole, it's a tightly constructed movie that makes a memorable impression.

A mute ballet dancer is jilted in love and finds herself crossing paths with a deranged artistic noble and inevitable tragedy results. Good directing and good acting make this slow-going film worth the watch. The mousy and odd-looking but charming Vera Karalli acted well considering she started out as a ballerina. The film features a segment of her dancing and what an inspired moment in film and a marvel of fate it survived for posterity. If only the same can be said for Nijinsky. This melodramatic decadent curio from the dying age of the Tsars is a dated but charming remnant from the distant past.