L'infanzia di Gorki

another viewer commented on the lack of propaganda; that caught my eye, too, because this is a soviet film about czarist Russia. the soviets were surprisingly even-handed on this one. the only overtly political comment i picked up was when the police arrived at the house asking after a former boarder who was known to be against the czar. this does bring up an interesting point though, for the characters in the family are admittedly and obviously guilty of assaults, torture, murder and arson, but the only time the police appear is when seeking the anti-czarist boarder. it would appear that in this time just about anything went and none were responsible for their acts, unless it was failing to feed oneself when the punishment was beggary. very little in the way of human sympathy existed, and when it surfaced it was repaid thrice over with malice. a mean time. but it is beautifully photographed and the acting is wonderful. there isn't that much of a plot, per se, just vignettes of growing up, but that doesn't detract. it is fascinating to see a time like this preserved. i imagine the ussr in 1938 was actually materially very close to the czarist time it represented. change must have been very slow, as it had been for millenia. i have to say i just love the final shot. it seems the very essence of a soviet statement: the child marches off, leaving his friends behind cheering him on, into a vast flat nothingness - mother Russia unending. he is confidence personified.

Detstvo Gorkogo (The Childhood of Maxim Gorky) - 1938 Directed by Mark Donskoy G. Shenotinnik

A Review By Ollie

The Childhood of Maxim Gorky, tells the story of Aleksei Peshkov a 12 year old boy, living in 19th Century Russia, who would later be known as Maxim Gorky, possibly Russia's most famous and celebrated novelist and dramatist. Made in 1938, the film is based on Gorky's autobiography `My Childhood', and is rich and powerful film which will capture your attention from the beginning.

Naturally, being made in 1938, the film is in black and white, although the story is so colourful and vibrant, with characters so alive, you would be forgiven for thinking the film was made much later. It definitely does not feel almost 65 years old.

Aleksei Lyarsky, who plays Gorky, is instantly likeable as the young protagonist. Capable of portraying emotions far beyond his years, he works superbly alongside a cast of commanding and believable proportion. There is an almost Dickensian feel to some of the characters. While desperately sad, and easy to sympathise with, the Grandfather has an ineffable quality, both humorous and self pitying. In stark contrast, Maxim's Grandmother is a simple woman, one of goodness and truth, representing all that is beautiful in the optimism of the poverty in which they live.

This film is more than an autobiographical look at one person's life. It is a peek through the windows of a time long since passed, a history lesson and above all a lesson in life, love and friendship. This is probably the most definitive coming of age drama I have seen, with more authority and gravitas than Truffaut managed in the much acclaimed `400 Blows'.

There are several scenes which stand out. From a simple act of kindness from Maxim, when he gives a crippled boy his pet mouse, to Gorky and his friends sitting around a fire dreaming of a Utopian Neverland; from his Grandfathers almost comedic reactions to their ever increasing poverty, to the tears of his Grandmother as he hands her a coin.

This is a rich and immensely strong film, advanced well beyond it's years, which holds it's own exceptionally well nearly 65 years later. This film will leave an indelible mark on your memory, if only from the simplicity of the tale it tells. It is, without doubt, pure cinematic poetry. A piece of film history which everyone would do well to try and see –it will not disappoint. An extremely well earned 10/10!

Ollie

A good-looking memoir whose nostalgia for the days of the Tsar is tempered by visits from the Secret Police and scenes of prisoners being lead to the Gulag (luckily a thing of the past by the late thirties!), punctuated by beautiful shots of Mother Russia...

The resemblance between Alexander Lyarsky as the young Alexei (as he is called in the film - a role he also plays in the next part of the trilogy - and his illustrious subject at that age has been well captured in the Russian style, as one would expect. That Lyarsky died during the German occupation sadly also doesn't come as a surprise...

Apparently, this is one of the most esteemed of movies in film history. Or was. The first of a trilogy, but what about the other two? Shouldn't a trilogy be a triptych, incomplete in just one third? But whatever, it's a 1930s Soviet movie and it is full of casual cruelty, envy, mischance, violence, anguish, and stubborn fortitude. Life is cruel and one must simply soldier on, at least until such time as one gathers the strength to give the rascals the slip. Don't let them grind you down, Alexei.

It's foolish of Hollywood, for example, to remake celebrated classics, movies that succeeded, for inferior copies are just that. Consign all the lousy spin-offs, reboots, prequels, sequels and the like to the oblivion bin likewise. But a movie like this? It could really use a rethink and a refreshment. It's just too antiquated, and too relentlessly depressing. A remake couldn't change that without becoming disreputable, but at least we could have colour and maybe more directorial vitality, even if that did soften the impact of the story's miseries.

I watched this because Youtuber Moviewise referenced it, and he hated it, but it is, one must allow, an esteemed film, but it ain't no Ivan's Childhood (still, for me, Tarkovsky's best). Now, I just have to go on wondering, who exactly is Maxim Gorky anyway?

"I tremble before your genius and admire you with awe," writes Maxim Gorky to Anton Chekhov in their correspondence, having just read Uncle Vanya.

This initially meant little to me... This trilogy, depicting the life of Maxim Gorky, can be considered an adaptation of three of his books.

"My Childhood" (1913), "In the World" (1916), and "My Universities" (1923).

"When it comes to beatings, I know more than the police," says Uncle Vanya to Maxim Gorky, one of the greatest writers of our time, whose real name is Alexei Maximovich Peshkov, and who writes under a pseudonym derived from the Russian word for "bitter," alluding to his childhood and youth. "Don't tense up when being beaten, it'll hurt more. Relax your body so it doesn't hurt as much."

For Maxim Gorky, who grew up amidst the sting of the whip, this is the best advice an uncle can offer. And the best uncle to offer this advice is Vanya, who isn't even his uncle, but a Roma child abandoned on their doorstep as a baby.

Mark Donskoy, a filmmaker born in the USSR, brought each of these three books to the screen in 1938, 1939, and 1940, allowing us to witness the life of this great writer.

Russia, under Tsarist rule at the time, is mired in deep poverty. The grandmother, the most virtuous character in the household, offers a poignant summary of both the author's and the Russian people's condition when she replies to one of Gorky's questions: "It's all because of poverty. Some people are so poor, it's impossible to describe with words."

This first film in the trilogy doesn't directly allude to the author's future successful career or the experiences that shaped it. However, a careful viewing offers a few clues. Throughout the film, we observe Gorky's inquisitive gaze, his questions, his inquiries, and his observations. Unlike his cousins, he doesn't just passively exist; he tries to make sense of what he sees and experiences. You realize that Gorky's grandmother plays a significant role in his development as a writer. Her constant encouragement, her protective instincts, and her storytelling prowess clearly leave a lasting impression on him. Beyond this, the film successfully conveys strong impressions about the author's character: his relationship with the chemist who rents a room in their house, his efforts to bring joy to a crippled child, his willingness to speak out against injustice, and his proactive nature are all evident in various scenes.

Resembling silent films, the movie occasionally employs intertitles, with phrases taken directly from Gorky's book. However, these phrases don't always express something essential or powerful.

Aleksei Lyarsky portrays the protagonist in this film, punctuated by intertitles that sometimes convey emotions, sometimes observations. This was Lyarsky's first and last film; he reprised the role in Donskoy's second Gorky film, "V lyudyakh," before tragically losing his life on the front lines in 1943 during World War II at the young age of 19.

His performance here is powerful, deserving of the labels "warm and authentic," and he holds his own amongst the adult actors. In fact, all the child actors in the film are quite impressive, and director Donskoy is known for eliciting strong performances from children. Compared to the other child actors, Lyarsky's performance might seem a tad more theatrical, but this isn't due to a lack of simplicity; it's likely a result of his central role in the narrative. Varvara Massalitinova, a renowned theater actress, plays the grandmother. Her experience allows her to stand out among the adult cast, and she beautifully portrays the significant role the grandmother played in Gorky's life.

While the film certainly doesn't feel like propaganda, it subtly aligns itself with the values of the USSR regime through two distinct characters. The first is the lodger, whose purpose and activities remain a mystery to the young boy. Although we're only told he's "anti-Tsarist," the police pursuit hints at his political affiliations. The second character is young Vanya, who works in the family workshop. Played with charisma by Daniil Sagal, Vanya's diligence, honesty, and positive qualities are emphasized in every scene he appears in - in line with the Soviet regime's emphasis on equality among ethnicities - "despite being a Roma." The tragic incident that befalls him also symbolizes the regime's stance on religion. Similarly, the illness of a workshop worker, caused by 37 years of exposure to chemical fumes, can be seen as a symbol of exploitation. The mysterious neighbor's praise for reading and learning can also be interpreted within this framework.

With its scenes of children spending time together, this film can also be seen as a rather charming "family film." The conversations, arguments, and especially their efforts to help their crippled friend make the film appealing to children and teenagers, offering them valuable and cinematically engaging lessons on solidarity, friendship, and honesty. It's noteworthy how Donskoy often paints a dark picture in scenes with adults, while aesthetically opting for brighter visuals in scenes dominated by children. The scene where the children go to the meadow, for instance, is quite successful in its emphasis on freedom and solidarity, and the emotional resonance it creates. Pyotr Yermolov's cinematography also creates a similar distinction between scenes with adults and those with children, favoring wider shots in the latter. The serene and luminous shots of nature interspersed between scenes, with their poetic quality, seem to remind us that there's an alternative to a world dominated by poverty, exploitation, and oppression.

The film concludes with young Gorky, resolute in his declaration, "I will go, grandmother, I will go far away!", leaving home. It closes with his words: "To life... to life... to do everything good and human. Our hearts and minds are a part of this." While the now somewhat dated cinematic language might make the film feel a bit slow-paced, it remains a compelling work that blends poetry and realism. Despite having issues with the regime during Stalin's era and being placed under unofficial house arrest, Gorky's works are today considered masterpieces of socialist realism. Filmed largely in Nizhni-Novgorod, where he spent his childhood, this film holds a particular appeal for those interested in early Soviet cinema and those who wish to witness the early life experiences of a great writer.

The Russian literature books in my library, especially those by Maxim Gorky, were inherited from my father, with whom I never had a good relationship. These are films I watched at the "Beyoglu Sinemasi" under his insistence...

This trilogy is a beautiful 3-DVD set worth watching even if you don't like Russian literature... Which I can't say I particularly enjoy.