Andrej Rublev

Having had the privilege of visiting Russia and anticipating a return next month, I admit to being a complete Russophile. The mystery, emotion and history of this remarkable country have found places in my soul I was scarcely aware of. This masterful film manages to evoke the sensations I felt during my month's long visit. The Russian people, among the dearest I have known, have suffered as have few others in all of history. The art of this magnificent country is always tinged in dark tones. The music, if not in a minor key, evokes minor key emotions. The literature, even with Gogol, clearly delineates the suffering and hardships with which all Russians are familiar. Therefore, it was not surprising to find all of this so strongly depicted in Andrei Rublyov. However, the beauty that somehow transcended the misery and bleakness constantly before the viewer was redemptive. The scene in which the iconographer holds the sobbing boy is one of the most touching and devastating on film. I sat before the screen with tears streaming down my cheeks. It may sound hyperbolic, but I found this film absolutely life-changing. I am returning to Russia to volunteer in an orphanage. Moreover, I am fully prepared to end my life in that great enigmatic country. Indeed, this film has changed my life. I cannot recommend it too highly.

This movie is set in mediaeval Russia, the world of unspeakable cruelty, poverty and injustice. And yet, this is a profoundly humanistic, profoundly spiritual, profoundly individualistic and profoundly uncompromising film. The photography is absolutely beautiful, mesmerising, original and superb. But it is the anguished soul and conscience of this film and of its main hero that truly make this a great picture.

There are no cliches here, no stereotypes and no sucking up to the audience. A brutally honest and yet very moving, touching and optimistic film. And it is not about the nature of a genius. Rather, it is about a man's ability and duty to preserve and be true to his humanity, his freedom, his soul, his heart and his gift, no matter what century it is or what the circumstances are. Watch it to remind yourself of what it really means to be human.

The life and times of Andrei Rublev, Russian iconographer of the early-15th century. Over seven periods in his life, spanning 1400 to 1424, we see the history of Russia, the power struggles, the role of the church and religion and Rublev's dedication to his calling.

A bit difficult to review this movie. It is clearly the work of a master craftsman: the exquisite cinematography, the sheer scale of the subject matter and time period, the themes, the obvious adoration director Andrei Tarkovsky has for his subject.

Yet it is often quite a grind to watch: clocks in at well over 3 hours and moves very slowly. Several scenes will go by without development in plot or theme. Furthermore, the separate time periods don't necessarily form a narrative. They often just feel like things happening, with no connection between them.

While acknowledging that the film is well made, I fail to see how it is so highly regarded. I did not come away feeling that I had just watched a masterpiece, something incredibly profound or moving.

"Andrei Rublev" is not merely my favourite all-time film; it transcends such pat, by-the-numbers praise. I have seen "Andrei Rublev" three times (twice on the big screen), at three very different points in my life. Each viewing, it has spoken eloquently and directly, has immersed and fascinated me. And has moved me with superlative skill and force. Other great movies have entertained me, inspired me, made me think; only "Rublev" has palpably altered my outlook on life.

Andrei Rublev was a medieval Russian iconographer; the film chronicles his struggle to maintain faith and artistry in a world of immeasurable cruelty and suffering. Rather than give us a crackerjack plot line with all the proper scene climaxes & paradigm shifts, director Tarkovsky presents us with a world in which we must immerse ourselves; once we are inside, we are confronted with rigorous pain and profound triumph. The movie is divided into chapters; the final one, involving an orphaned bell-maker's son, is a stunning film-within-a-film that provides a microcosm of the whole movie. That section, if it stood alone, would be my all-time favourite film.

Be warned: "Andrei Rublev" is SLOW. You have to slide into it; it's not a flick which dazzles, it is a world which beguiles, and which demands to be inhabited. Also, there are EXTREMELY difficult scenes to watch--torture and bloodshed abounds. Watching the Tartar attack on a Russian town is the most painful experience I've ever had--not just in a cinema, but in life.

For those willing to make the gruelling trek, however, "Andrei Rublev" is an inspiring, life-affecting experience. Created under an oppressive Soviet regime (which banned the film for years, recognizing its symbolic commentary on 20th-century Soviet government), the film shows how life can be valuable and even joyful, no matter how much suffering stands in the way.

Especially recommended for Tarkovsky fans, Dostoevsky fans, fans of medieval art, and anyone grappling with questions about suffering and human expression.

He has ruined cinema for me and this is one of the masterpieces that did it. Everytime you see one of his film's you proclaim: "That's the best picture ever made!" Which can't be true as that was the last Tarkovsky film you saw. I've seen this one many times at the cinema and is the best three hours of celluloid you're likely to see apart from Solaris, which is Tarkovsky anyway.

Tarkovsky wanted to make art that would change people's lives and in this he succeeded. Although his life was troubled and his projects clawed into life randomly from the grip of his film studio bosses, when viewed as a whole they seem to be all part of some great plan that was meant to reach fruition right from the start. He believed that ultimately it is best to do things that deepen one's inner life rather than impoverish it. That may explain why you leave most Hollywood films feeling soiled. There are too many great scenes and moments in this astonishing and monumental work to mention so I won't. Suffice it to say it would have been fascinating to have seen what Tarkovsky would have made had he lived and returned from exile to his homeland. Recent events in Russia and the Balkans make this film even more vital and pertinent today.

The trouble is Tarkovsky's films have such extraordinary purity and spiritual depth that no other films seem able to satisfy one in the same way. They seem flat, lifeless and unable to compete. Why watch the let's-pretend-grown ups like Tarantino when you can watch a real grown up? So like I said, Bloody Tarkovsky. He has ruined cinema for me.