Umirayushchiy lebed

Early ballet films followed the pattern of the Romantic-era ballet craze of its popular staged librettos where the dancers, almost supernatural in their movements, would invariably die at the end of the show wrapped in tragedy. The earliest existing ballet movie inspired by this century-old tradition is Russia's 1917 "The Dying Swan."

The mute heroine, played by Vera Karalli, is spurned by an admirer and seriously takes up ballet. Performing the original 1905 Anna Pavlova-dance, "The Dying Swan," in public, Karalli is spotted by an artist who is fixated by the illusion of death. He's sees something in her face that speaks of despair and ending it all. He convinces her to model for him with that look of gloom. But the earlier admirer returns to the scene, sparking a newfound energy in Karalli's face. This is when the movie's macabreness takes a twisted turn.

"The Dying Swan" was directed by Yevgeni Bauer, who had been called "the first true artist in the history of cinema." (See 1913's "Twilight of a Woman's Soul." ) Producing over 80 movies, he broke his leg on the set while directing his next film, "On Happiness." The later movie suffers because of his injury, as well as his last movie, "The King of Paris," when he was forced to direct in a bathchair while soaking his leg. While he was overseeing "Paris," Bauer came down with pneumonia. He was rushed to a Yalta hospital and died there June, 1917 at 52 years old. An actress in the movie stepped in to finish directing. His departure occurred just before Russia's transformation to Marxism in October roiled its movie industry, turning its independent cinema into a propaganda outlet for the government.

As for Vera Karalli, she played in several Bauer films and cited "The Dying Swan" as one of her best performances. A mistress to the Grand Duke Dmitri Pavlovich of Russia, first cousin to Tsar Nicholas II, she was at the palace of a co-conspirator with her lover the night the Tsarina Alexandra's confidant, Grigori Rasputin, was killed in December 1916. She fled Russia soon after the October Revolution and settled in Austria, living a long life teaching ballet.

Sadly, Yevgeni Bauer would die soon after this, a morbid reminder in and of itself that life sometimes reflects art first. And in viewing "Umirayushchii Lebed" it is nearly impossible to not think that Bauer was not influenced by the literary works of Edgar Allan Poe. There are too many parallels there. Particularly the influence of women on the lives of the two men.

While Bauer's earlier marks in film were more technical, it is the acting and Zoya Barantsevich's story that shines this time around. The cast is similar to his earlier "Posle Smerti" and again employs Vera Karalli as its star. Karalli plays a beautiful dancer (the dying swan) who tragically is also a mute. When the first suitor of her life breaks her heart a lonely artist becomes totally enthralled by her beauty as well...but in a completely different way.

Andrej Gromov plays this second of the two men in her life and does a masterful job of showing us an unhappy, dark, mysterious man-on-a-mission...for lack of a better term. The outdoor locations at the beginning of the film portray a happy world where the lovely Karalli lives with her loving father before her fateful meeting with Gromov. And once again Bauer shows us his fascination with dreams and their meaning, particularly as they coincide with the films ironic conclusion. And the film again features a nice score; this time by Joby Talbot and his violin-cello-piano trio.

The nutshell: not technically groundbreaking such as Bauer's "Posle Smerti" was but still comes across as more enjoyable because of its acting, storyline, and emotional response from the viewer. Again, not a feature length film but worth checking out...8/10.

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.

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.

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.