Ottobre!

This film is highly reminiscent of Eisenstein's later work, POTEMKIN, in that it looks like like a typical historical film but more like a re-creation of the events--much like a documentary. However, like POTEMKIN, it too is a very politically driven propaganda film. While most of the moments on film are pretty realistic, Eisenstein and Alexandropov also intersperse little scenes that portray the Communists as noble peasants and the Kerensky government as patently evil. While depicting the Czarist regime that preceded the Kerensky government as evil is pretty accurate, the story of Kerensky isn't quite that cut and dry. While he did create his own downfall due to the foolish decision to continue the war against Germany after the May Revolution (the non-Communist revolution of 1917 that sought reforms and forced the czar to abdicate), Kerensky and his men weren't quite the evil pigs they were depicted as in the film. But, of course, considering the October Communist Revolution was still recent history when the film was made, this sort of hyperbole is rather understandable. Plus, given the control exercised over the Soviet film industry, it is doubtful that Kerensky and his cronies could have been depicted any other way.

Particular standouts in the film are the interesting and very imaginative camera-work as well as the brisk pace and realism of the film. About the only negatives (other than the way they depicted the Kerensky government) were the excessive use of some footage to make a simple point--such as showing men scrambling out of a doorway again and again and again to let the audience know people are pouring into a room or returning to the same shot repeatedly. At the time, this was pretty forgivable and normal, but today it appears, at times, like it could have used a bit tighter editing.

This, Eisenstein's third film, represents the peak in development of his montage technique. It is arguably the "biggest" film he had made to date in the sense that it was made with the largest number of extras and highest budget he had yet handled. Also, it steps further into the characterlessness of his previous silent films, being in many ways closer to a documentary than a historical feature.

The montage in October is taken to new heights. In an early scene in which a machine gun regiment opens fire on a demonstration, incredibly rapid editing back-and-forth between a shot of a gun barrel and the mean look on the gunner's face suggests both the action and the sound of the gun. Another aspect of the montage which Eisenstein makes extensive use of in October is expressing ideas by editing in shots of objects from outside the setting or at least unrelated to the narrative. For example, images of the Tsar's clockwork toys are spliced into a scene in which the highly unpopular provisional government ministers meet together. In another scene a series of increasingly primitive looking religious statues from all over the world are paraded to ridicule the church. While often ingenious, this crosscutting can sometimes be a little heavy handed and obvious. For example, do we really need to flit back and forth so many times between a shot of Kerensky and a statue of Napoleon to understand what is being implied? As well as the allegories conveyed through montage, there are also a few metaphors in shot composition or basic action. When the red guards are ransacking they have a laugh amongst themselves when pulling a decorative cushion off an ornate chair reveals a commode. There are also plenty of Eisenstein's trademark funny faces – particularly ugly or bizarre looking actors are cast as people Eisenstein wanted to appear ridiculous, such as the Mensheviks and provisional government ministers.

Eisenstein's direction of crowds is, as ever, flawless. So much so in October that parts of it have been mistaken for actual historical footage of the revolution. A very convincing look-alike of Lenin also pops up from time to time, although I have to say the guy who plays Trotsky looks more like a young Rolf Harris. The events portrayed do seem to be largely historically accurate, albeit from a skewed angle. The Bolsheviks are hero worshipped out of proportion to their actual importance at the time, and Eisenstein constantly promotes the Leninist notion that the masses cannot progress without the guidance of the party. Still, this was the philosophy of the dictatorship in which Eisenstein was operating.

October may be the most technically proficient and finely crafted of all Eisenstein's films. However, it lacks the humanity of Strike and Battleship Potemkin. It's an incredible film, just highly impersonal, which can make for difficult viewing. One final note – the only version available on DVD here in the UK is from Eureka, which as well as having no extras has some terribly translated intertitles, although I understand there are very nice editions of all Eisenstein's films available on Region 1 from Criterion.

Oktyabr October This is one of the few times in film that the movie and history agree. It is a historically accurate account of the Bolshevik revolution and the overthrow of the monarchy in 1917. Oktyabr is full of symbolism that many will find amusing. For instance, the scene where the tsar walks through the doors and a shot of a peacock flashes on the screen, giving the illusion that the tsar walks into the peacock's butt. This is also a fairly graphic film, showing the deaths of many people. This is comparable to what someone would see if they viewed old World War II footage. The film mainly documents the revolution and makes intellectual connections between people and events in history. Many conclusions can be made about the connections that someone who recognizes the symbolism can make. For being a historical documentary type of movie, it does a good job of telling the story while still providing some interesting parts to keep the film viewer entertained. I felt that this movie gave me a greater insight to what happened in Russia during that time period. If you are interested in Russian history, this is definitely a movie that you want to see.

I first saw this film in the late 80s at the NFT (UK National Film Theatre) with a piano accompaniment. The print was scratchy and the inter-titles longer than several of the scenes. I was expecting it to be interesting as an example of Eisenstein's use of montage and cross-cutting (and indeed the audience seemed to be composed mainly of film students), thus worthy and perhaps a little dull. Instead, I was stunned. Now released on DVD with a Shostakovitch score and sparse sound effects, the film is revealed as masterpiece which surpasses both Battleship Potyomkin (1925) and Alexander Nevsky (1938) in its use of these two, and many more, filmic devices.

It's a young man's film and completely of its time and place, that is to say it gives a romanticised and idealised view of the Bolshevic revolution and its origins. The Tsar is directly compared to a horse's arse, Lenin harangues from the front of a steam engine, the proletariat are the true beneficiaries of the revolution. Statues fall apart and are re-formed in reverse motion, the people re-enact the storming of the winter palace (and climb its real gates), the battles cross-cut from faces and hands to carefully staged set pieces. In the second most famous sequence in early film history (the other being the Odessa steps from Potyomkin), a young woman's hair flops over the edge of a rising bridge while a cart and dead horse drop into the water.

The film is politically naive but decades ahead of its time in every other respect. The young people who inhabit these pages might like to compare its editing and pacing with that of the average music video and CGI-driven special effects film. I contend there is essentially nothing in these which they will not find in Eisenstein, and in October (Oktyabr) in particular. Yes, it's black and white, and silent but for the lately added score, and yes, it's from the early 20th century (by no means the earliest history of film), but it still stuns after repeated viewing. This is where modern film-making started, and everything we think we know about it (slow motion, montage, cross-cuts, reverses, you name it) had its origins in Eisenstein. The inter-titles (not sub-titles) still go on too long, though.

I think that Sergei Eisenstein, who has (rightfully) been credited as one of the grandfathers of modern cinema, is sometimes forgotten as someone who can really direct great epic scenes along with making them expertly edited. The filmmaker here knows he's pushing along an ideology, one that is not only encouraged but all but required of him to give to the public. But he also knows that to put out the message there needs to be some conviction, surprise, something to catch eyes as the information's already known. Perhaps even to a greater extent than Battleship Potemkin, October: Ten Days That Shook the World puts on display a director with total confidence not only in his flourishing, insistent style, but in that of his mostly non-professional actors, crowds, real-locations, sets, and his crew. It's one of the most assured pieces of silent film-making I've ever seen, and it's taken a few viewings to take in everything in one sitting (I ended up watching half an hour, and then sitting back trying to remember everything I just saw, or thought I saw).

Some uses of montage in the film- make that most if not all- rival those of even the better editors working in commercials and music videos today. Like those editors, they're working with images meant to be dynamic and to the point. Here it's the story of the 1917 Bolshevik revolution in Russia, where Lenin took control of the reigns of the provisional government with left the country at a stand-still in poverty. Or, at least, that's how the film would definitely lead things onto. Watching a film like this and seeing 100% accuracy is irrelevant. But watching it to get a sense of what cinema is supposed to- and can do- with tricky subject matter, is completely worthwhile. Some of these scenes are just pure masterpieces of crowd control; when the people mass together in the town square, for example, one might immediately think of the Odessa stairs from Potemkin. Here, however, there's more than one chance for such operatic takes on harsh realities. The beginning- where they tear down the statue- is striking enough. But just watch when the crowd has to disperse and runs around early on in the film, or especially the storming of the Winter Palace. Could you do the same material with computers today? More than likely, but not with the same conviction and 'this-was-really-happening' feel that a camera (recreating) on the scene could get. And, sometimes, as when the monument/statue gets 'put back together', it's almost amusing but still convincing of what the medium can do.

And soon enough Eisenstein reaches his climax, the immense lot of 10 days that brought the country to a peak of change and possible prosperity for its people. It's like October for the Russian people of the time is like a thousand or so snapshots of that time and place in the world. The one point that Eisenstein poses for his viewers- not just for his of-the-period silent film crowd but for those watching today- is that he is not making it boring for those who can give themselves to the images, the moments taken with some shots more than others. Anyone getting into editing, I think, should see at least some of Eisenstein's films to get an idea of where the smoke of post-modern film-making generated. October is probably one of his prime examples; if you want to watch it for purely historical or political contexts it may be hit or miss depending on point of view, but it is hard to see as a misfire in telling a story using spectacular and imaginative compositions with the frame, lighting, and with specific, profound musical accompaniment by Edmund Meisel.