Guerre et paix I: le prince André

Part I of Sergei Bondarchuk's relentlessly ambitious 1965-67 War and Peace, "Andrei Bolkonsky", debuted at the Moscow Film Festival in 1965 and won the Grand Prix. It was also torn apart by critics at that time, according to The Criterion Collection, because it was played at that festival in an unfinished state. It later went to regular theatres, finished, in 1966 and became part of a cinematic phenomenon. Part I gives us an appetizer for the battle scenes to come with Austerlitz. These scenes aren't as impressive as the ones in parts III and IV, but they are gripping and terrifying in their own right.

From the word go, War and Peace boasts an elaborate production speaking to a director with an artistic vision. Nothing is "too much": In Part I, we see a bear attend a debauched aristocrats' party, because why not? We could cut the bear to spare the expense, but no, keep the bear. The creativity is also there, and even if we're looking at something ordinary, it still leaves me impressed. A tree almost comes to life, as if by magic, and we also see some ghostly images as viewed by Natasha. Natasha appears fairly young here, and as with Boyhood (2014), War and Peace offers a rare experience of seeing characters age naturally, a result of a years-long production.

Part I also gives us some philosophy to contemplate by means of Andrei and Pierre's discussions. The fact that Pierre refers to Napoleon here as "the greatest man in the world" is, to say the least, interesting considering what he plans to do in Part IV. If you've finished Part I, fasten your seatbelts - there's a lot more to come.

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.

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.

In addition to being the most faithful adaptation of the novel, this work is really a marvelous masterpiece of direction. Not only the battle scenes were realistic and fascinating, but the detailed portrayal of Moscow's looting, destruction, vandalism and humiliation at the hands of the invaders was striking and expensively arranged that I played those scenes repeatedly to mark all the details.

Bondrachuk as Besukhov was so fit in the role that one forgets he's in fact the director.

The only thing I could never comprehend is why Slava Tikhonov considered this as his worst performance that he thought to quit acting and was surprised when Bondrachuk offered him another role afterwards ... I believe he made a fine Andrey, definitely better than all other known versions. Of course not his own best role but that's related to both the novel itself as well as to the overwhelming cinematographic visuals which make any individual performance just a tiny drop in the ocean of splendid scenes.

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.