Sumerki zhenskoy dushi

So very early in the history of cinema, there's much about this picture that seems to emphasize its place. Actors break the fourth wall to smile at the camera as the opening credits introduce them; sequencing, and the very execution of individual scenes, accentuate that they are pointedly staged in the course of the production. It's worth noting, meanwhile, that there are also some marvelous techniques employed here - double exposure to overlay one length of footage over another; rudimentary tracking shots - that mark the very, very beginning of development of the art form. There's an inarguable simplicity and even innocence in the very craft of the picture that is endearing, that makes it truly feel like the type of piece that would be displayed alongside wax cylinders in museums as an exhibition of budding technology - or which may make it difficult to abide for viewers who aren't already enamored of silent films. For all that, however, 'Twilight of a woman's soul' is well made and very enjoyable.

Between prohibitive cultural norms delineating "decency," presumed censorial rigor, and basic good taste, there are certainly some scenes and story beats that are somewhat curtailed with an austere hand that means they're not imparted with all due gravity as they present. That is to say, principally, that the film delicately tiptoes around acts of violence, and in a more general sense plot development sometimes skips from A to C. For that shortcoming, however, and for what we don't see - what we get instead are strong performances to highlight the perspectives, reactions, and mental states of the characters. This especially goes for star Nina Chernova, starring as troubled protagonist Vera, who even being thusly limited by the construction of the movie still demonstrates capable range and nuance. And though she is most prominent, so it goes as well with Chernova's co-stars.

Director Yevgeny Bauer shows a keen sense for shot composition - the fundamental arrangement of figures and objects, and indeed the camera itself, within a setting - and it's clear that his reputation as a pioneer of the medium is well-deserved. Rich details like filming locations, set design and decoration, costume design, and hair and makeup are all quite fetching, adding greatly to the worth of the feature. And not least of all - abbreviated (truncated?) as it may be, I quite admire V. Demert's screenplay. Though inherently condensed to their most elementary form in such a tightly structured film, characters as written possess plentiful depth. Scene writing is duly varied, ensuring each adequately conveys the course of events and all necessary feeling regardless of how the tableau is shown to us. And while certainly depressing - frankly what fiction out of Russia is most known for - the overall narrative is coherent, cohesive, and complete, telling a fairly compelling story; if anything, one wishes the tale could have been fleshed out more than what a 48-minute movie in 1913 could relate.

'Twilight of a woman's soul' is quite distinctly a title belonging to the earliest days of cinema, with all the indelicacies and burgeoning inventiveness that quality may carry with it. Yet even with all possible issues that one may perceive with the feature, it's anchored with excellent acting and writing. And despite clocking in at a hair under 50 minutes, the substance of the movie is given room enough to flourish and keep viewers engaged. Again, I think it's fair to say that this probably is a silent film for audiences who already favor the stylings of the era - but with that caveat in mind, I think this is well worth the minute span of time it takes to watch.

This film tells a fairly simple story of a young noblewoman who helps the poor, only to be taken advantage of by an unscrupulous man. When she tells her newlywed husband her dark secret, it affects both of their lives forever. It was a rather haunting film, and the earliest of Bauer's work that survives. It's not quite as refined as what Griffith was doing at the time, but the lighting and camera angles are occasionally quite interesting. The acting shows the influence of contemporary theater work, but it's more subdued than some other efforts from this time. Overall it's pretty intriguing, and it tells the story in a very economical and precise way.

Russia's Yevgeni Bauer has been called "The greatest film director you never heard of." Spending years in theater as a producer and set designer, he became involved in movies in the 1910's. His directorial debut, August 1913's "Twilight of a Women's Soul," is a stunning testimony of Bauer's justification of earning the right to be labeled the "first true artist in the history of cinema." "Twilight" is a story of a woman who gets raped and then kills the rapist. Later, she meets a prince who appears to be a very caring person-that is until she relates to him the rape episode shortly after they marry. He's distraught and fails to sympathize with her.

Bauer sets this domestic drama with psychological implications, a trademark of his. Two sequences reflects Bauer's mastery of his unique set designs in his rookie effort: the bedroom scene where our heroine is sleeping and the soon-to-be-rapist passes her a note. The room is amassed in gauze, symbolizing the dream state she's in. The second scene is where she's become a famous stage actress, and the prince, after two years of searching, finds her to ask for his forgiveness. The room is filled with adoring flowers from her fans, showcasing her new-found confidence in her conversation with him.

Bauer would go on to direct 70 films between 1913 and 1917, with only 26 surviving. He would die of pneumonia that year, ending an incredible run of aesthically-charged films. But his influence in Russian cinema would be immense afterwards.

This early Yevgeni Bauer feature is good in itself, but more than that it shows the potential that he would soon realize in the compelling melodramas he was to film in the mid-1910s. In itself, "Twilight of a Woman's Soul" is just a little better than average compared with the dramas being made elsewhere at the time, but there are flashes of the mood and the techniques that soon afterward made Bauer one of the most creative and interesting (if also under-appreciated) film-makers of his time.

Bauer's technique is even more restrained here that it is in his later features, with very sparing (but effective) use of camera movement and other such techniques, with the movie relying more on the lighting, sets, and actors to create its effect.

The story centers on a lonely young aristocratic woman whose search for a purpose in her life is sadly exploited by one of the men whom she tries to help. The rest of the movie focuses on the ways that this one incident affects her life, and the lives of others, in the years that follow. It's the kind of plot that Bauer, in his later features, would examine deeply, and he would learn how to involve the viewer's emotions almost to the breaking point.

This feature never becomes as chilling, as gripping, or as heart-rending as his best movies do. But it is a solid drama, and a drama that also has plenty to say. Bauer soon learned to make his points even more memorably, but this is also worth seeing, especially for anyone who appreciates his unusual and imaginative style.

Very few directors strike gold with their first effort. The subtle nuances, finding what the camera is capable of, dealing with actors, scripts, and so forth, can make for a hell of a time finding yourself. Yevgeni Bauer is no different. And if you watch his works backwards, as I did, you find out that the man is human after all. On a career built on working with lighting, shadows, tracking, and the morbid netherworld, Bauer's first effort, "Sumerki Zhenskoi Dushi," does see him hint at these elements but he is a bit away from anything close to the genius of his later works.

Believe it or not, this is a simple love story about a prince, a high society girl, and the secret that threatens to end their marriage. At times it seems nearly Shakespearean. The two leads, Vera Chernova and A. Ugrjumov, certainly don't damage the picture in any way and V. Demert as the villainous Maksim plays his bit quite well. But the story line is surprisingly bland, drawing little emotion from we the viewer and exceptionally unclimactic.

It does draw slight interest just to see what Bauer does with the camera angles and the way he plays with the lighting but all in all it is just a bump in the road to the director's full grasp of what he will go on to be capable of.

The nutshell: only recommended for hardcore Bauer fans to see how the man began his career. Students of cinema should proceed immediately to "Posle Smerti" to wow over. I'm only giving it the rating I have because it has Bauer's name...6/10.