Kamennyy tsvetok

For the commentator below, I thought I had seen it on tape but I'm not sure. Most probably saw it an art house in Chicago or some university festival (Roosevelt University had a very good one back then).

The film's use of color was a landmark breakthrough. It was a process different and superior to technicolor. We can do it today in say, Kodacolor, and "The Red Shoes" did indeed quite approximate it but good as that was, it did not equal SF,

I wonder if Martin Scorcese, who did a commentary for "The Red Shoe" saw it. I'm sure he would have been impressed and if someone could get to him today he might even promote putting it on DVD just for gras artis gras.

The film was of some importance politically too in that it was the first kind of cultural exchange gesture the Soviets made at the height of the cold war. We probably sent them "Gone With The Wind." I mean that.

So says the grizzled old factory watchman at the conclusion of the folk tale he's been telling the children huddled around his fire through the Russian night. One of the young boys comes quietly up to him as the others leave, and tells him that he too wants to be a master-stoneworker, like the hero of the story: "ah!", says the watchman, "you got the point!" And the point's not just for children, either.

Ptushko's memorably beautiful film makes for a gripping parable about the conflict between the inner and outer life of the born artist, willing to risk sacrificing everything - even the woman he loves - in pursuit of artistic and technical perfection. At the secret heart of the Copper Witch's caverns, the Stone Flower itself represents that unattainable ideal of beauty, natural material fashioned so cunningly that it seems more real than reality itself. Danila, deeply unsatisfied with his work admired though it is by so many, has to study its form at any price, leaving his betrothal feast to pursue his ideal and hone his technique.

Will Danila break free of the Copper Witch's charms, and return to the "real world"? You'll have to watch the film to find out...

With only four significant characters - the young genius, the ageing and ailing master-craftsman who teaches (or is taught by) him, his faithful betrothed Katinka, and of course the Copper Witch herself - "Kamennyy tsvetok" is much more tightly structured and less riotously inventive than some of the other Ptuchko films I've been privileged to see, and the tension never flags.

Political content, too, is restrained - surprisingly so, given the film's date and the fact that it was (as other commentators have pointed out) the first major Russian film to be made in colour. The peasants are duly repressed by the fat and frivolous landowners and their brutal class-traitor henchmen, but (assuming that *my* brain has figured it out correctly!) the clear message is that whatever its conflicts with everyday life and relationships, art certainly transcends politics and class. Surprising indeed. There's even a moment in the beautifully depicted and choreographed folk betrothal where religious icons are bowed to with grace and reverence. It is amazing that Ptushko was daring enough to try to get that one past the censors, let alone manage to succeed!

The commentator who compared the visual feast on offer with Powell and Pressburger's roughly contemporary "The Red Shoes" was spot on: their "Tales of Hoffmann" is even closer in spirit. Ptushko's visual imagination and daring are in that league, and his colour process produced really breathtaking pictures. If his images here seem more illustrative and pictorial, less intrinsically filmic than the art of those English masters, they are none the less memorable. The magic scenes in the woods, and in the gem-sparkling caverns, are of a loveliness seldom matched in film of any era, and never surpassed.

The currently available RUSCICO DVD version is quite beautifully restored visually, and the sound is very acceptable too. With good extras, including a half-hour feature about Ptushko's life and work showcasing extracts from many of his other films, why not treat yourself and your family, if you have one, to this rich folk-tale? If you respond to it as I did, you may even manage - for one brief, shining moment - to feel that you are nine years old once again!

This faux (?) folktale, probably the best known film of Soviet fabulist Aleksandr Ptushko, is a paean to artistic individuality: a daydreaming youth becomes protégé to an old stone carver; visits the secret cave of a mountain witch to delve into his art; and then, with the unwavering trust of his deserted bride, finds his way back into the world as absolute master of his craft. A rather non-collective idea to find in the Stalinist film world of the time. Ptushko's style often looks like some over-decorated/Russian-themed Christmas window, but it certainly fits his subject. The crudity in the technique comes off as sincerity and the USSR color processing of the era is often quite lovely if you boost the brightness level on your equipment. Aimed at kids, but probably best for grown up cultural Sovietologists.

NOTE: Check out the DVD extras for an amazing stop-motion animation clip from Ptsuhko's 1936 pic THE NEW GULLIVER.

The Stone Flower as a piece of cinematic art, seems to surpass Disney, or The Wizard of Oz, in a similar visual vein, and always clearly presents it's own unique impeccable, and intricate attention to delicate detail, not found in many other films.

There is a pleasing sense of welcoming and invitingness to the film, and with kindness and gladness it opens itself up to you to come along and enjoy.

Great care, classiness, and refinement abound in the production of The Stone Flower, and it makes for a beautiful experience to watch. And whether you can understand Russian, or not, visually the story will keep it's pace, and lead the way for you quite clearly.

The Stone Flower is a tale of folk, and a tale of beautifulness and happiness, and it is sprinkled in the icing sugar of magicalness, and fantasy!

A very lovely film! :)

An old man recounts a fairy-tale to a group of children about a stone-cutter, "Danila", who strives for perfection and meets with the mystical "Queen of Copper Hill". She asks him to sacrifice himself and remain with her in her unreachable world of stone at the expense of his married life with "Katinka", the girl he loves and whom he has just married.

The film is made in colour which is refreshing for 1946 and it is 15 minutes longer than described on IMDb. However, the story drags. The Russian hierarchy is very effectively captured - we witness the cruelties of the ruling classes who take to flogging the poor. They don't just flog them, they beat them to death for not working hard enough or not finishing a piece of work in time. Danila's talent at stone sculpture results in him being commissioned to make a piece for a wealthy landowner who wants to show off. However, the "Queen of Copper Hill" intervenes. It takes ages for this part of the story to get going, though.

Vladimir Druzhnikov is good in the lead role as "Danila". He looks a bit gay and girlie and very much suits the artistic type that is required for the film. The sets within the world of stone in Copper Hill are interesting in a "Star Trek" kind of way but each section of the film just seems to drag on for too long. Apart from the dance sequence in the wedding episode - one of the more entertaining parts of the film.

I also felt that the ending of the film could have been better. It's a happy-ending story but it would have been far more effective as a tragedy. We are led to believe that the Queen of Copper Hill has an evil sacrifice up her sleeve and that someone is going to get turned to stone for eternity. This is exactly what the film needs. But it doesn't happen. She suddenly switches to a goodie and we get a "love conquers all" message which is a disappointment. The film keeps you watching with false expectations and I felt cheated at the end. The rules suddenly change from "You can never go back!" to "Ok you can go back now". Very lame. The film needed an effective finale, ie, some tragedy, to redeem the rest of the tedious film but it didn't happen. It scores for novelty value only.