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Abel Gance's masterpiece, Napoleon, was made in 1927 - towards the end of the silent film era. It is over five hours long, and some sections require three synchronized projectors and three screens for theatrical presentation. I saw it many years ago in the last San Francisco theater equipped to show it as intended, with Paul Honegger's original score played on a giant theater organ which could simulate the sounds of an entire orchestra (including drums). The only videotape edition (which I have), released by Coppola in 1989 with a score by his father, is long out of print, and a DVD issue is reportedly prevented by legal complications. But Gance's 1934 re-edit would make a perfect DVD. It would easily fit on one disk, is designed for a single screen, and has voices dubbed in by the original actors. The lip synch is perfect, because Gance made the actors in the silent version speak their lines (perhaps anticipating the advent of sound). While we can hope that the 1927 version eventually makes it to DVD, the 1934 film stands on its own as one of the greatest historical films ever made.

Kozintsev was one of the great Russian directors, whose career started in the silent era. His star, Nikolai Cherkasov, played a hero who used brains as well as brawn in Eisenstein's Alexander Nevsky, and a politician who becomes almost demoniacally subtle and unscrupulous in Ivan the Terrible. As Don Quixote, he plays the would-be knight-errant with such quiet dignity that his delusions begin to seem preferable to the reality around him. Sancho Panza, as solid and earthy as his master is gaunt and unworldly, shows up the nobles who amuse themselves by playing along with Don Quixote's delusions as even more deluded and out of touch with reality. One can't help seeing a reference to Soviet society, perhaps too subtle for the censors to catch. This film, as well as Kozintsev's Hamlet and King Lear, are overdue for release on DVD in the United States.

Eisenstein describes his collaboration with Prokeviev as an equal partnership, where they worked together to match image and music, scene by scene. Unfortunately, the sound recording was a disaster, so for once the devotion to authenticity in Criterion DVD's backfires. Fortunately, there is at least one restored version of the film on VHS (BMG Classics) with an excellent re-recording of the music (by the St. Petersburg Philharmonic Orchestra and Chorus).

It is interesting to compare this film with contemporary propaganda films in England, Germany, and the United States. Eisenstein's film was made in 1938, in response to the fear of a German invasion; and Olivier's in 1943, when a German invasion of England was still expected. Both films are stagey, but in different ways. Olivier begins by showing a staged performance of the play in the Globe Theater by Shakespeare's own company, then takes us out of the theater to a more cinematic (though still stylized) setting. Eisenstein's film is cinematic from the beginning, but the dialog and speeches are still influenced by the melodramatic acting conventions of the old Russian theater. This works very well for Cerkassov's speeches as Alexander, because part of his job as a prince and military leader was to play a role in public.

In Nazi Germany, the first major propaganda film was Leni Riefenstahl's tedious Triumph of the Will, which recorded a huge political spectacle - massed crowds cheering Hitler's ranting speeches. The propaganda in her masterpiece, the film of the 1936 Berlin Olympics, is much subtler, with its worship of the athletic male body carrying disturbing undertones of the Aryan superiority myth. But wartime German propaganda films could also be subtle. Karl Ritter's Urlaub auf Ehrenwort (Furlough on Word of Honor) is typical. It shows a young lieutenant letting the men in his company go on a 24-hour leave before returning to the WWI trenches (and almost certain death). Against the advice of veterans, he accepts their word of honor to return, though he will be courtmartialed and shot if they don't. Naturally, they all return, (though some of them berate themselves for it), presumably inspiring the audiences to similar displays of duty to their country.

In the United States, one of the better WWII propaganda films was Howard Hawks' Air Force. In it, we follow the mismatched crew of a bomber as they bond to each other with the experience of battle, and overcome obstacles to continue their part in the war. Typically for Hawks' films, however, their real loyalty is more to each other than to their country.

Eisenstein has to reach far back in history to find any Russian military triumphs. Ironically, Alexander (like the other Russian princes) is descended from the Vikings who sailed up the Russian rivers to conquer and rule their own fiefdoms. So he is a conquerer repelling another would-be conquerer. Physically, they are not that different (though the actors portraying the German princes were obviously chosen for their ugliness and smirking stupidity). But the real contrast is between the common soldiers. The Russian peasants are as tall and strong as the nobles; whereas the German peasants who scuttle out of the shield wall to kill wounded Russians are a foot shorter than their masters. There is some historical truth in this contrast. Russian serfs in the Middle Ages were much better off than their European counterparts, because they could always escape into the wilderness and clear their own land.

Eisenstein's film also cleverly gives us our first sight of Alexander as a fisherman. In the battle with the Germans, he uses his fisherman's knowledge of the ice as well as his knowledge of their military tactics to defeat them. When Gavrilo breaks the shield wall, they are forced to regroup and mass on the West side of the lake, where the ice is thinner.

One of the other pleasures of Eisenstein's film (which most audiences miss) is the historically accurate way that he portrays the politics of medieval Russia. Cities like Pskov and Novgorod owed their growing wealth and prominence largely to trade, which put the merchants into power, and sidelined the princes until their military expertise and feudal levies were needed to repel invaders. In the film, Alexander is shown not only as a military leader, but also as a master politician, who knows how to wait for his time, and how to make the most of his popularity after the victory.