Arsenale

It goes without saying that silent cinema requires emphasis on the imagery. Alexander Dovzhenko's "Arsenal" is no exception. The look back at World War I over the past year should draw attention to this movie. Like Lewis Milestone's "All Quiet on the Western Front", this movie looks at the futility of war. The focus in the Kiev Arsenal January Uprising in 1918. Probably the most effective scene is the laughing gas: a man artificially laughs while surrounded by all manner of horror, a perfect metaphor for the disconnect between the image and reality of war.

The only other Dovzhenko movie that I've seen is "Earth". I understand that "Arsenal" and "Earth" are the second and third installments of his Ukraine Trilogy. I'll have to see "Zvenigora", as well as the rest of Dovzhenko's movies. Despite the obvious propaganda, this is still a movie that you have to see just for the imagery if nothing else. Like Sergei Eisenstein's "Battleship Potemkin", it contains some of the most unforgettable images in cinema history. Definitely see it.

I call this a near-masterpiece because of the basic purpose of it, which is propaganda. This film exists as agitprop, and while it contains phenomenal and ferocious imagery, ultimately the single-minded viewpoint hobbles it as art and undercuts its slight attempts at humanity. While it can be viewed as a Revolutionary piece, exhorting a 'proper' spirit of energy, knowing it was made by a Ukrainian in 1929 while the Stalinist regime was either plotting or bumbling their way to the Great Famine makes this film deeply questionable in a moral sense. The theme of a Ukrainian learning Revolutionary values in the Great War, then returning to destroy the 'corrupt' forces of 'old Ukraine' made me deeply uneasy. That said, the imagery and sequences in this (quite late) silent film are second to none. The toothless, laughing soldier is one of the most stunning single images ever committed to film; and the general pacing, with a deliberate, lingering sense of time, forces concentration on the set-pieces. Much of the film is brutal, inhuman, and cruel. This is both an accurate representation of the setting itself and of the type of violent us-vs.-them propaganda produced by the Soviets at the time. I find this film VERY unsettling from a moral standpoint, something I don't often find myself saying. But, again, the masterful and stunning imagery makes it well worth viewing more than once.

A group of Ukranian soldiers return from World War One to more fighting in the Communist Revolution.

This is an extraordinary, kinetic and moving piece of film making, full of metaphor and of great relevance for people throughout the world today. It isn't necessary to understand the complexities of the times to understand the rich emotional resonance. Particularly innovative is Dovzhenko's use of rhythm and inter-spliced scenes.

I was lucky enough to see a restored version of this at the Cambridge Film Festival 2003, with live musical accompaniment. Particularly memorable scenes are the undefeatable worker, the laughing gas, and the horse team rushing to take a fallen comrade to burial before returning to battle.

Don't be discouraged by this Soviet film's age or obscurity - it is one of the finest movies ever made, and it stands alongside Carl Theodore Dreyer's "The Passion of Joan of Arc," as the most modernist film of the 1920's. This is a spectacular visual achievement, and its visionary conception of cinema is moderinism that we've still failed to catch up with. Unlike most recognized masterpieces of Soviet silent cinema (e.g. "The Battleship Potempkin," "Earth," "The End of St. Petersburg," etc.), however, "Arsenal" is a surprisingly approachable film, and its strangeness and abstraction are consistently fascinating. Originally intended as a propaganda film, "Arsenal" is the second component of director Alexander Dovzhenko's "Ukraine Trilogy," and it details an episode in the Russian Civil War (~1918) in which the Kiev Arsenal workers aided the Bolshevik army against the ruling Central Rada. Dovzhenko's approach is somewhat similar to Sergei Eisentein, in that he relied heavily on montage, but his pace was less frenetic, and his Expressionism was more exaggerated. As detailed in the film's academic commentary, Dovzhenko was previously a political cartoonist, and you can see traces of this background in "Arsenal." The characters in this film are caricatures, sometimes grotesque and sometimes funny. Similarly, there is a strangeness and remoteness in "Arsenal," which makes the film's few intentionally lucid passages quite dreamlike. The DVD commentary is concise and informative, and a terrific primer for the first time viewing. If you have any interest in silent cinema, modernism, or film as art, "Arsenal" is a film you SHOULD NOT MISS. ---|--- Was this review helpful?

Dovzhenko is the one who most differs from his brilliant colleagues, who based a considerable part of the structure of their films on a sophisticated construction of scene montage, Dovzhenko has always followed a more naturalistic line, pure dramatic narrative, poetry and visual beauty, master to its time in capturing natural rhythms, "Arsenal" is a modern classic with a visionary conception, oscillating between raw and immediate images like a documentary and also almost expressionist, exaggerated, playing with framing or inverted symmetries, employing quite varied forms of reach a state of abstraction. Just imagine a cinematographic composition inspired by the classic icons of the Byzantine orthodox code, that is, sacred figures painted on wood with a background without perspective, except that, in place of the sacred figure, a potentially revolutionary worker appears. Dovzhenko adapted the religious "aura" of the icons to the characters emanating from the Marxist dialectical materialism prevailing in the aesthetic-ideological vision of the party.

Not only in the close-up portraits of the heroes, villains and victims of the historical process, but also of objects and nature. Surrounded by a halo resulting from a subtle out-of-focus, the foreground images - faces, flowers, mechanical objects - acquire a "corporeal significance", as defined by a Ukrainian critic, who crosses the Byzantine tradition and refers to the sacredness in pictorial representation. In Europe and in the beginnings of the Italian Renaissance.

These images seem to contain a self-sufficient solidity, almost arousing a sense of touch in the viewer. Cinema-poetry, of course, that articulates itself with the urgency of the historical moment of the socialist revolution to produce an awareness of historical transition and overcoming, sustaining at the same time a fruitful and original subjectivity. The source, finally, to which filmmakers like Tarkovsky, Paradjanov and Sokurov referred.