peter-209

...but do we watch films for their technical accomplishments? The director of "Russian Ark" decided of his free will to put a severe technical limitation on his work - namely, as everyone knows by now, to shoot the whole film in one take. Of course, other artists work within the more-or-less self-imposed confines of their particular art: the filmmakers of the Dogme movement resigned from artificial lighting and sound; poets, at least the classical ones, imposed on themselves the rules of rhyme and rhythm; and let us not forget the people who make sailing ships in glass bottles as well as writers who write whole books without using the letter "e" (actually, I think it was just a short story and the writer was either Raymond Queneau or Georges Perec). Undoubtedly you can see that I am dragging the argument ad absurdum. It is ironic that the director Sokurov claimed that he did not want to be commended for technical accomplishment. Well, I think that the film could have been much better if it was made more traditionally - the inherent rhythm of the story, going through 22 different rooms and scenes, cannot be ignored even in the continuous take and Sokurov used some "dirty" tricks, such as black curtains covering the technical going-ons behind and zooming on a person's hands and gloves for no apparent artistic reason. And the film might even have been cheaper if filmed traditionally: there would be no need for thousands of extras and thousands of costumes - they could have been reused in different scenes. And obviously there would be no need for 22 assistant directors and hundreds of supporting

personnel, such as make-up, prop, or lighting people. After this criticism, I have to say that I still liked what I saw, mostly due to the opulent beauty of the production, an incredible camera work and the fluid surreal atmospere ("Russian Ark" is, after all, a sophisticated ghost story, is it not?). I only think that the 300 hundred years of Russian history deserved better: I would suggest a slightly more conventional technical approach and longer time - perhaps something like the 7 1/2 hour "Satantango" (1994) of Bela Tarr or the 9 1/2 hour "Shoah" (1985) of Claude Lanzmann...

This is, and I guess, will remain, an extremely underrated film. There is no chance that those of us who are just a little bit intellectually lazy will like it. The viewer's participation in creating (or re-creating) the plot is absolutely required, to an even higher extent than in Bertolucci's "Besieged". This short film consists of several disconnected vignettes from the life of the Red Army soldiers living, training, working - and let us not forget: washing themselves - on an army base. The country is deserted and the buildings are dilapidated, but everything is beautifully shot. The atmosphere is oneiric, the dreams and imaginations blend with the reality, thus resembling the works of the Master - Andrei Tarkovsky or the Disciple - Aleksander Sokurov. There is not much dialog, which leaves us on our own to interpret sometimes surrealistic happenings on the screen. As in many other soldier movies, the topic is the clash between individual's humanity and the inherent brutality of the system. The clash is treated very delicately, there is not a single scene of the direct physical violence in the movie. Yet, we witness - or infer, for that matter - hazing and several deaths on the camp. Although not an overly gay film, it is remarkably open in its homoerotic subtexts. In contrast, the scenes with direct nudity, like those in the showers or the pool, are devoid of eroticism. They are shot in a documentaristic style, but the beautiful sacral music of Johann Sebastian Bach gives them another meaning and elevates them to unanticipated heights. The film opens with a biblical motto and it is not a chance that the story of St. George battling the dragon appears twice in the movie. Another hint to a deeper meaning of the film is that two persons of the cast are named Death and Angel... As for the acting, there will be some that will not like it, but, incredibly, all the roles are played by real-life soldiers, except for one professional actor (guess which). Watching "Sto dnei do prikaza" (and I recommend to watch it multiple times ) is a strange, difficult, but rewarding experience.

The film is a dated, incoherent, and pretentious rambling about fictional revolutionary, or rather quasi-revolutionary, terrorist group(s) in Tokyo in the sixties. Although there may be some resemblance to early Godard, Wakamatsu seems to be much less accomplished thinker, revolutionary, or craftsman than the French master of the New Wave. Notwithstanding the typically Asian overacting, all the persons in the "plot" act as detached mechanical puppets (perhaps intentionally?). They are not good in making either revolution or love. The frequent sex scenes were quite irritating not only because the participants recited quasi-political slogans, but also due to sometimes awkward choreography or cuts necessitated by the bizarre Japanese censorship law that does not allow a glimpse of pubic hair on the screen.

I wonder if the sign "WEAPON WEARHOUSE" on a weapon warehouse in the film is a joke for insiders or rather a testimony on the level of production values in this movie.