Po zakonu

With a gripping story and effective technique that establishes a memorable atmosphere and heightens the suspense, this lesser-known Russian-made silent melodrama is well worth tracking down. The plot, which (interesting to note) comes from a Jack London story, is quite efficient in getting a world of possibilities out of a situation that involves only a handful of characters. The technique relies mostly on the kind of montage approach that some of the Soviet film-makers apparently favored, and it shows how effective that technique can be when used in the right setting.

Set in a remote, frozen, and often claustrophobic location in the Yukon, the story focuses on the dilemmas faced by a husband and wife who must contend with a crazed killer even as they battle the elements. Both the practical challenges and the ethical/moral decisions they face are brought out well by the way that many short takes are pieced together in a fashion that constantly emphasizes the unstable and confused nature of the situation that the characters face. Only some occasional overacting (especially by the wife character) detracts from the effect, and it all leads up to a compelling final sequence. Overall, it's a distinctive and most interesting film that works quite well.

By the Law tells the tale of five people who have set up camp in the Yukon in hopes of finding gold. From the moment one of the gang— Dennin—finds gold, it is easy to tell that he is the outsider; one can quickly foreshadow that he is probably going to do something drastic later in the film. Indeed, soon enough—he does do something drastic: he comes in while others are eating and loses it—he takes his shotgun and shoots two of the five dead on the spot. The other two—husband and wife—are able to subdue him before he can do anything else. They are then left with a decision: do they wait until they can make it back to civilization to give him a trial, or do they take the law into their own hands and conduct the trial and sentencing themselves? This film doesn't have very many action scenes, but the one action scene—the scene where Dennin goes crazy and kills his fellow gold miners—is quite something. Kuleshov's use of montage seems to make the quick paced scene go even faster than it actually does. This one scene of action provides a lot of excitement for an otherwise dull movie. Another thing that stands out in the action scene is the way Kuleshov really focuses on the actors' faces. Their expressions add a whole different emotional effect that would not have otherwise been present. Another interesting part of this film is the fact that even a painting—Queen Victoria— can cause the Kuleshov effect to occur. During the trial Kuleshov flashes the camera back to her several different times and it seems almost as if her expression changes— even though it is very clear that as a painting it has not. Kuleshov does a great job using modernist techniques to give this story life.

You just know from the first handful of images that you are in the presence of a master filmmaker with this; one who understands the multiple planes of seeing, the different perspectives of seeing life around us, the more meaningful life inside, and the cosmic grind of life to which our life is merely pattern, and knows how to align them. Who can then pour universal soul, his, ours, into this cycle that reconciles disparities and unifies vision.

See here. The scene is set; turn-of-the-century Yukon, prospectors with feverish dreams, restless lives clawing at the edges of the known world. What could they humanly discover where no one goes?

The Irish worker hastens back to the campfire to break the good news to his company, everyone rejoices at the prospect of gold and begin dancing; except no one with him, he is left alone, dancing awkwardly a little out of way while tapping his empty food plate - the empty plate, next to the larger where dirt is sifted for gold nuggets. A little further, his dog, excited at the noise and merrymaking, stands at hind legs and eagerly performs his learned trick. How brilliantly Kuleshov conducts all these images, sustains in them each other's metaphor.

This is the very thing. There are many filmmakers who can paint a beautiful sunset or turn story-telling beats with some urgency or suspense, or even give us an intelligent metaphor about these things. But so few can draw a meaningful image that connects itself with what is behind- and gives rise to it; so few who can brilliantly invent, picture the notions that will restore the world from our narrow perspective into its original dimensions.

So, there is this solitary hut in the middle of the blasted, windswept tundra. Nights flutter with rain. Inside is humanity entire; this is how wide Kuleshov sees. The man, the worker who was wronged and wronged back twice harder, the couple who had no time to spare him from their cruelty but will spend so much solemn, dutiful time and effort to bury their dead in the wind and rain. They are both guilty, both probably never having meant to, and they're all waiting for the thaw, the law to come and settle scores.

This is not agitprop like was commissioned from Kuleshov's pupils, Eisenstein and Pudovkin. The worker is not merely the prole, exploited but brave with adversity, his employees are not just the faceless cut-outs of corrupting evil. The figures are rich with ambivalence, they have actual faces equally damned and damnable.

Tensions simmer as they grow paranoid together in the small hut, minds become unhinged. There are some pretty unforgettable images of this, faces and bodies locked in ghastly grimace as though something contorts from inside the soul. Baleful eyes. Again how Kuleshov conducts his metaphors though; outside is constantly pouring hard, and begins to seep inside with the madness.

And then the ice begins to break; these are some of the most breath-taking images in film, certainly the most erudite in silent cinema, exactly because of the cycles they insinuate. It is the mind shattering with the surface of the earth, the universe above. So the three of them are basically growing mad while the world is torn asunder beneath their feet; except it's more than that, it's washed away implying a floating that renews. The overall notion framed in images is so powerful, I had to hold my breath a little as it happened.

The law, or Law equally as good, they've been waiting for never comes of course. So they arbite to decide matters themselves, embodying the law in the absence of it with Bible at hand and a poster of Queen Victoria on the ramshackle wall. This is what is so valiant about the human effort in general, yet also equally misguided. It falls on us - and us alone - to devise the order that will nurture and sustain us.

Oh, the couple devise their order as best they know, fair or not. But the maddening vision is not over, and the end is a bit of a stunner.

If you seek this out, try for the restored FilmMuseum version. It comes with amazing ambient music by Austrian composer Franz Reisecker; sparse techno beats like Plastikman, now dissolving with static hum. It's great stuff.

I'd be lying if I said I didn't fall in love with this movie from the very start. Whether or not the Russian countryside believably fills in for the Yukon is a question I leave to those with more geographical expertise - but in any event, the great thing about cinema is that we already have our suspension of disbelief prepared. More substantively, I have a profound admiration for the approach director Lev Kuleshov took in building shots and scenes, and for that matter kudos as well to cinematographer Konstantin Kuznetsov. The small cast, simple landscape, and utilitarian set design and decoration makes for rather distinct, stark imagery. Pair with this many shots from the very beginning in which the cast are not centered, but perhaps their hands are seen, or objects they're interacting with - a manner that rather serves to isolate and diminish the human element, even as these few characters are seen conducting themselves in a social fashion. Figure in the hard work, spartan lifestyle, and sparing rewards of panning for gold, and I feel 'By the law' establishes itself as an early example of a psychological drama. It is, immediately, a fascinating viewing experience.

True, my perception of that angle may well be influenced by the musical accompaniment of the instance where I watched this - a ruminative modern electronic score by Franz Reisecker, ambient and atmospheric, with tinges of industrial noise on the edges. Yet as I watched I couldn't help but marvel at how every slight element seems to feed into the notion that this is a fine predecessor of more well known, often underhanded, deeply affecting dramas and thrillers. The assembled actors give bewitching performances full of adept range and physicality, seemingly accentuating the thoughts and states of mind of the roles they inhabit. In Kuleshov's direction - his guidance of the cast, his orchestration of each scene - and in the adapted screenplay he developed with Viktor Shklovsky, the same bent seems very plain. In my eyes the characterizations appear to be developed as an exploration of managing tragedy, violence, hardship, and indeed sanity in surroundings and circumstances where survival is already a daily chore. In turn, much of the camera's vision specifically captures close-ups of actors' faces, highlighting the toil and emotive fervor as the narrative progresses. The dialogue, as related in intertitles, denotes barefaced reflection of either the reactions and feelings of the characters, or the plainspoken course of events - and both serve the same slant. And in the writing and realization of each scene, and the story each collectively builds - once more, truly: we're given a presentation of deepening madness and woe as Dennin, Hans, and Edith fight through the dire scenario. Personally, I think this is altogether extraordinary.

The cast is fantastic. Without hesitation, the three primary stars - Aleksandra Khokhlova (Edith), Sergey Komarov (Hans), and Vladimir Fogel (Dennin) - wholly embrace the wild, spiraling plot, and above all the states their characters are increasingly driven into as time wears on. For all the tremendous value of the silent era, few performances from early cinema have done so much to earn my favor so sharply and quickly. One could perhaps argue that the rough situations the production accordingly endured played into the exceptional, dour zeal of the acting, but even if so, the fact remains that the displays we see make a huge impression. And, frankly, so it is on down the line with every last aspect of the feature: all appearing to support the captivating psychological drama unfolding, all terrific in their detail of consideration and execution.

So awesomely rich and vibrant is 'By the law' that I quite think it could nearly pass for a modern art film delving into the same genre and concept; the only significant difference, of course, is the total lack of sound. Yet the picture is so vivid and dynamic that it feels to me as though our own mind conjures the rancor of human conflict and unforgiving environment as strongly as though we were hearing it with our own ears. Very honestly - I love silent films, but for all the stupendous, unforgettable titles I've watched, and many more I can't wait to see, I'm completely blown away by what this Soviet adaptation of Jack London's tales has given us. This is one of the most unswervingly arresting, riveting movies I can recall watching - in recent memory, at any time in my life, of the silent era, of cinema at large. I cannot overstate how wonderfully engrossing and rewarding the feature is.

I should note a content warning for violence (if minimalized, in the standards of 1920s cinema), and there's a passing line of racism that can't be missed - though one could argue it's merely a reflection of the prejudiced code of law in a somewhat lawless, certainly unpopulated region at a particular time in history. Still, for whatever indelicacies may present - the writing, the direction, the acting, the contributions of every single person down to every last small facet: 'By the law' is phenomenal, an exquisite exemplar of film that far exceeds the typical approach to storytelling of the time. It's surprisingly intense, inescapably engaging, and marked with utmost excellence in every possible way. I do not jest when I say I think this might be one of the greatest movies I've ever seen. Wherever and however you can watch 'By the law,' as far as I'm concerned this is an essential must-see and earns my very highest recommendation!

If there was a specific characteristic among the Russian films after the Bolshevik's advent to power, it was a special care about film aesthetics circumscribed in propaganda; avant-garde films that perfectly combined a political message with fascinating imagery. However sometimes Bolshevik films deviated from that norm thanks to the mastery and inventiveness of their directors.

That certainly happens with "Po Zakonu" ( By The Law ), an astounding and brilliant cinematographic exercise directed by Herr Lev Kuleshov in the silent year of 1926. Herr Kuleshov's film theories play an important part in the success of the film.

The film tells the story of five gold prospectors on the banks of the Yukon River trapped during a terrible winter and is an adaptation of Herr Jack London's story "The Unexpected".

With minimal sets and cast ( this was a personal challenge for Herr Kuleshov, the claim that it is possible to accomplish a great film with few resources ) "Po Zakonu" is a remarkable and disturbing masterpiece. Fascinating shots of a wild environment ( nature is a main and decisive character in the film ) emphasize the claustrophobic atmosphere that drives the characters to desperation in their solitude (one of them shoots two other members of the crew).

The film is also a disturbing physiological study wherein every gesture and facial expression is studied as well as the impressive Russian body language. Here the avant-garde technique is in the service of a nightmarish atmosphere and tense drama.

And now, if you'll allow me, I must temporarily take my leave because this German Count must dig for gold in one of his Teutonic heiresses' private rooms.

Herr Graf Ferdinand Von Galitzien http://ferdinandvongalitzien.blogspot.com/