Bratya Karamazovy

I read the book over a decade ago, the entire 900 pages plus, and then saw the 1958 Yul Brynner movie version which was okay and all the principal actors were terrific but the story left out the Grand Inquisitor and Ivan's hallucination with the devil, two of the most memorable chapters in the book. So needless to say there was some disappointment with the Hollywood version. Though I will say it's understandable why those very lengthy chapters, philosophical in nature and not something most Americans have patience sitting through, were omitted.

Thankfully with this 12 part mini series the most essential parts of the book are covered, including the Grand Inquisitor and the Devil scene. The Brothers might have looked differently than what I imagined when reading the novel over a decade ago, but I genuinely found them to be the characters in the book. And since this was filmed almost a decade ago, it's a great companion to anyone who has the read the book. I'm only reviewing this now because someone I know just watched the Hollywood version, but she didn't know about the more complete storytelling of this novel is found in the Russian formats (with necessary English subtitles). This is definitely better than the 1958 Hollywood version, but I still recommend reading the book first.

On it's own this 12-part mini series re-tells the story as close to written words as possible. Really well done, not dull and yes it has a "soap opera" quality that makes it entertaining. Recommended for anyone who had patience to read the novel, then see it in action!

The Brothers Karamazov is for me one of the masterpieces of foreign literature, and has very quickly become an all-time favourite, because of how compelling the story is, how interesting and thought-provoking the themes are and the brilliance of the multi-dimensional characterisation. Because of the huge length, the somewhat sprawling structure, the religious and philosophical elements and the amount of depth there is to the characters it is also an incredibly difficult book to adapt.

Of the two adaptations seen of The Brothers Karamazov, this and the 1958 film, this is the superior version of the two. Both this said are more than watchable on their own merits and adapt the book bravely. This 2009 Russian TV series version has shortcomings. The music score is a little uneven, sometimes it's fitting, elegantly simple and hauntingly beautiful but in other places it can feel too lush and sentimentalised where a grittier, suspenseful approach would have been more appropriate. Sergey Gorobchenko does well as Dmitri, especially in the more vulnerable parts, but doesn't quite bring the same amount of intensity that Yul Brynner did so splendidly in the earlier version, and while it was good to have the Grand Inquisitor scene included this time it felt rushed through, also feeling heavy-handed and with nowhere near the tension and impact it ought to have. There were times where the subtitles were rather suspect and out of sync, but the translation made sense mostly and wasn't too hard to follow.

However, Bratya Karamazovy looks great, with a great sense of the 19th-century Russia period with its grittiness and opulence, beautifully done exteriors, evocative costuming and props and very handsome photography that didn't feel too staid or too flashy. The script writing is very clever and thoughtful, as well as making a real effort and succeeding in keeping the essence and tone of Dostoevsky's writing without being too rambling or wordy. With the story, it is here where it scores better than the film version. The longer length meant that we were treated to more of the story and that the major scenes were utilised to their full potential, and while the pacing is measured it never felt dull because there was a lot happening, with more of the substance and impact than in the film and with more time to let it all sink in and reflect on it all. The telling of the story is quite faithful on the whole, with the big deviations being the beginning and the end, and, apart from the disappointing treatment of the Grand Inquisitor scene it's told with the right amount of tension, suspenseful mystery and emotion.

Characterisation is also superior here, while understandably not as complex as in the book the characters are better developed here, with the writing for Alexei/Alyosha being significantly improved and far more interesting and a better balance between characters, Dmitri's story is pivotal here but the rest of the characters thankfully are not treated any less importantly. It's well directed and the performances are solid, with Sergey Koltakov's intimidating Fyodor (a very juicy patriarchal character that could have easily been overplayed or too much of a hammy caricature), Masha Shalaeva's playful but touchingly conflicted Liza and Anatoliy Belyy's very nuanced Ivan being the standouts. Aleksandr Golubev charms and moves as Alexei, Elena Lyadova allures while also bringing an appropriate amount of earthiness and without being too genteel, Viktoriya Isakova is spot on as Katerina and Pavel Derevyanko's Smerdyakov is suitably insidious.

All in all, a very well done version of a very hard-to-adapt masterpiece, and superior to the 1958 film version. 8/10 Bethany Cox

I watched this adaptation just after having finished the novel. To adapt his last and longest novel with the intention of following the source material as close as possible, and succeeding, is, alone, worthy of praise. This adaptation follows the original novel with all the important scenes, no characters being left out, while changing certain things from the novel just enough so that the story works better in the film format rather than prose narrative.

Giving the characters the attention they deserve was done very effectively in this adaptation. Comparatively to the 1958 film, one major flaw I saw was the lack of development given to Ivan, and even Alyosha neither of whom in that film is got anywhere near the time they deserved. That is not so in this version, with the 12 episodes, Mitya, Ivan, Alyosha and Smerdyakov all get sufficient development so they are understood, especially if one hasn't read the novel.

All the major actors do their roles quite well, especially Aleksandr Golubev as Alyosha, the hero of the whole tale; Sergey Gorobchenko is also well performed and can easily be empathized with as Mitya, and Pavel Derevyanko is also superb as the mysterious and cruel Smerdyakov. Sergey Koltakov did the role as the selfish and hedonistic Fyodor Karamazov as if the character was right from the pages. The actors for the other minor characters are also well chosen, whether that is Mariya Shalayeva as Alyosha's mischievous love interest Lise, or the gentleman who portrayed Father Zosima. The only slight casting error I think was made was the two central women: Grushenka and Katya, played respectively by Elena Lyadova and Viktoriya Isakova. Both are very good actresses, but I sort of feel it *might* have worked better if their roles were reversed, with Mrs. Isakova as Grushenka and Ms. Lyadova as Katya. It's doesn't at all detract from the show however and they both nonetheless did quite well with their very emotional roles they played.

Most other aspects of the series are great as well: the cinematography, while clearly on a budget, was often beautiful, and the music was atmospheric and added to the emotions felt.

Overall, the series is a great adaptation of Dostoevsky's final novel that captures all the drama, emotion and power of the novel for anyone looking to experience the novel again, or just wants to familiarize themselves with the story before reading it.

Highly recommended.

This overwhelmingly beautiful and true to the original rendering of one of the greatest novels ever written, if not the greatest, leaves nothing else to wish for, and yet it is worth while comparing it to Richard Brooks' version of 1958. Maria Schell and Lee J. Cobb remain supreme in their interpretations of Grushenka and the monstrously self-indulgent father, while all the brothers are more convincing and true in this ultimate Russian version. It is nine hours long, and yet you willingly sacrifice all the time it takes and afterwards look forward to seeing it once again in a later future. The colouring is not as expressionistic as in the Richard Brooks version, the drama is not overstressed by intensity and outbursts but much more contained, the colour imagery is on the contrary rather Spartan and not far from a black-and- white impression, only contrasted by some beautiful sweeps into nature, especially the very last scene, which is more Tolstoyan than Dostoievskian. But the main triumph of the film, which underlines its character of infinite and bottomless and yet triumphant tragedy, is the music, very modest and simple but strikes the heart immediately, by Henri Lolashvili. Just the introductory scene, which presents each of the twelve episodes except the last, strikes such a true chord of the story that any heart could melt immediately. This is a regular triumph of classical Russian realism. Enough said. It's a self-evident full score without reservations.