Testimony

Tony Palmer's tour de force biopic of the great twentieth-century Russian composer is, cinematically, a work of genius. Aided by Nic Knowland's stunning cinematography and the director's own well-observed production design, the film is visually compelling and a fine manifestation of cinema as art.

Palmer edited the film himself, and it shows. On the one hand, he has an imaginative grasp of montage - there are thrilling sequences of images denoting the 1917 Revolution and the hagiography of Stalin. On the other hand, it isn't always clear from the sequences of images what point he is trying to put across; the Babi Yar sequence is confused in its apparent attempt to equate Stalinism with Nazism.

One thing is clear, however. Without a good knowledge of Shostakovich's life and his music, a viewer cannot get the most out of this film. Even if like me you have read the composer's disputed memoirs several times, you often find yourself asking: "What year are we in now? Who is that character? Which part of his life are we dealing with?" Narrative clarity is not Palmer's priority, and perhaps it shouldn't be; but newcomers to Shostakovich would not be advised to start here.

Kingsley's performance as Shostakovich is impeccable. Although he doesn't resemble the composer precisely, his bearing and delivery convey the composer's inner torment and private battles with perfection. Veering between nervousness and furious sarcasm, he brings across all Shostakovich's difficulty of reconciling his private vision with his public role. Mention should also be made of Terence Rigby as Stalin - wordless for at least half the film, he carries a malevolent presence which suggests the sheer imposing terror of the man himself.

In other respects, the film is flawed - the appearance of household names in small roles is distracting (Frank Carson as a Russian clown, for heaven's sake!) and Russian names are frequently mispronounced and mistranscribed. Including footage of present-day musicians performing Shostakovich's music is not as incongruous as it sounds; but it is a pity that the works are sung in English, robbing them of the natural poetry of the Russian to which they were set.

That 'Testimony' is a labour of love is unmistakable; that it is, technically, one of the most compelling pieces of British cinema is indisputable. But it is too long, the parallels between Shostakovich and Stalin are perhaps foregrounded too much, and there is a danger that this enigmatic composer will seem even less accessible after watching. That does the composer a disservice; but, on the other hand, let's be grateful that this film was made at all.

It doesn't need a lover of classical music to appreciate the dramatic conflicts in the life of Soviet composer Dmitri Shostakovich (1906-1975), but the heavily camouflaged screen treatment presented here is more an artistic interpretation than a traditional biography. The film wants to expose the (often bitter) core of the composer's musical inspiration, by daring to be more expressionistic than any of his symphonies. It doesn't even make sense to evaluate Ben Kingsley's starring performance, because the entire design of the film is pitched so far beyond any standard of objective realism, with hypnotic, dreamlike imagery shifting from black and white to color and from dramatic facsimile to actual archival footage. The results are both powerful and pretentious, working best when the music itself is highlighted in historical context. Shostakovich was very much a witness as well as a victim of his era, and his music often reflected the violent events and conditions around him.

Testimony would be a firm and undoubted entry on my list of the ten greatest films ever made.

I'm not really interested in the debate over whether this movie is a 'true' portrayal of the composer. I'm only really considering it as a piece of cinematic art. From that point of view, it is a masterpiece, a classic. It's not a traditional movie. It is like a completely different, fresh approach. It is closer to masterpieces like 'Nosferatu' or 'the Cabinet of Dr. Caligari' than to any modern film. In some ways it is like an extended video clip - a montage of narration, sight and sound. It leaves unforgettable images on the mind.

Everything about this movie is first class. It is a very contrasty, noir B&W movie which fully utilises the artistic possibilities of that medium. I won't detail the greatest images, because that would spoil it. But there are many very powerful moments that are unforgettable and loaded with meaning. The narration and script are masterly. The powerful music of Shostakovitch is completely integrated. That music is difficult and complex, and to reveal it to the viewer and to make the viewer love it is a wonderful feat. The acting is first class, equal to the best ever seen on screen. Kingsley's performance as Shostakovitch is extraordinary. Terence Rigby, who I think of as a ham actor but whose presence in a movie is often very powerful, conveys silent menace as Stalin. Images, sound and acting can scarcely be bettered.

This movie is about a true genius and artist living at a time when the image and cult of one man totally dominates the whole of society and where any question over loyalty to that figure is deadly. But ultimately this movie is only about itself. It's not really about Shostakovitch any more than a Caravaggio is a comment on society. The question is whether it completely grips for its whole length. It does.

The film could have used a good editor. It is at least 45 minutes too long, with lots of repetition of dialogue and scenes from earlier in the film, which renders the last part quite tedious. Also, the massacre of the Jews by the Nazis at Babi Yar seems to be laid directly at Stalin's feet, which is historically incorrect and therefore confusing. Also, as another reviewer has pointed out, some previous knowledge of Shostakovich's conflicts with the regime of Joseph Stalin will help in following the story line, which is sometimes unclear.

Volkov's book, by the same title, is a collection of sarcasms, unique to Russians, about living under the Soviet system. Except for use of sarcasm in the script, the book has no relationship to this very complicated movie. Some of these comments here, seem like they came from folks who have not read the book.

The movie is hard to categorize. I have never seen anything like it. Tony Palmer is a genius! I met Shostakovich in about 1960 when he attended, I think Meistersinger, at the Shrine Auditorium in Los Angeles. From my impression of Shostakovich, I felt that Ben Kingsley had somehow studied the man and connected with him, Kingsley being as ideal as you would expect, such as his preparation and ability to portray Gandhi.

This movie is certainly for insiders; still there were a few things I didn't quite understand. I think perhaps the surreal moments had to do with the vanity of a pretentious society and it futility, such as his playing a keyboard on a raft in the fog and capsizing, or him walking among the clowns coming at you on the sidewalk.

Tony Palmer and Ben Kingsley got me very deep into the Shostakovich pathos and the conditions under which he survived, and I haven't been the same since.

The DVD has been released and there should be copies on eBay. I am disappointed that the DVD was not mastered from a better copy of the movie. I once had a pristine copy that I taped off of PBS. I loaned it to a noted conductor and never got it back.