Poruchik Kizhe

I went to see this film out of curiosity, and to settle an argument. The film is now best known from the suite of music Sergei Prokofiev extracted from his incidental music to the film, the Troika movement even turning up in pop arrangements. The general outline of the plot is well known from the sleeve notes on various recordings. A clerk accidentally generates a non-existent Lieutenant Kizhe in a list to be presented to the tsar. The tsar is interested in this person, and rather than tell him he doesn't exist, the courtiers and officers maintain the pretence that he is real. Kizhe is exiled to Siberia, recalled, promoted, married, promoted again, dies, is given a state funeral, revealed as an embezzler and posthumously demoted to the ranks.

I had heard conflicting stories about how the clerk invented Kizhe, involving ink blots and sneezes, but I'd heard the film was lost, so there was no way to find out what happens. Then the film turned up at the Barbican in London as part of their Prokofiev festival. For the record, it turned out that all that happens is that the clerk confuses two words whilst writing an order and turns Kuzhe into Kizhe. As the tsar is in a hurry to see the order, there's no time to correct the mistake.

Having gone expecting an historical curiosity, I was pleasantly surprised. The film is very funny, and the audience, myself included, laughed continuously. Although most of it is filmed straight, set mostly in the palace, there are a few "trick" shots where multiple images appear on the screen. For instance, the tsar's army is represented by a small group, repeated across the screen. Four identical guards perform perfect drill in perfect unison. Two identical servants scrub the floor.

One slight drawback was it was very difficult to work out who everyone was. There were two women who might have been the tsar's daughters, or a daughter and a servant or something else. And very few people were named. But all in all, an enjoyable film and I'm surprised it's not seen more often.

Made in 1934, this brilliant piece of filmaking combines elements of Expressionism, Dada, and Surrealism with directorial style reminiscent of Cocteau, Renoir, Leger and Bunuel. Add the music by Prokofiev and it transcends cinematic art. I've followed, sought and studied film for over four decades. This is a seminal work of early cinema with superior subtitling. An absolute must see for those who love the art.

I thought this was lost but a watchable copy of the complete film can be found on Google Video. At last you can see how Prokofiev's music fits in. It's a bizarre film, with exaggerated Russian comic acting, but quite stylish. The score is, of course first rate and and comes over well even on a fairly poor copy.

The famous Troika appears as a song during chaotic night time ride and the romance is sung as a solo with harp accompaniment.

On the whole the sound is as goo as most prints of Alexandeer Nevsky that I have seen - though i await a restored version from Ruscico - the Russian Cinema Council.

I hope they do a restored version of this forgotten classic.

This is a movie with a point to make. That point being that the Czar and everyone of his supporters and soldiers was a laughable jerk. It's an understandable point to want to make, and farce is broad by nature, but this movie seems like a sort of inside joke, something that might be very funny to angry Russians still bitter about their treatment under the Czar, but a failure in terms of comedy that is relatable to those for whom the Czar is not such a big deal.

The score by Prokovieff is, of course, brilliant. And the basic idea is really cute. But the movie is forced and not funny at all. Sometimes a hint of subtlety is more powerful than nothing but broad strokes.

While Tsar Paul is napping, a lieutenant and court lady are necking. When she gives him a playful pinch, he shouts for the guard, waking the Tsar. He's furious and orders the obvious freethinker discovered, flogged, and marched to Siberia. While preparing the indictment, the selfsame lieutenant has his pen slip, producing a fictitious Lieutenant Kizhe. So the whippers whip the air; the officers march nobody to Siberia, and drink the vodka and food; and when the Tsar is jollied out of his snit, he promotes the non-existent officer to General, grants him extensive lands, and orders him married to the court lady who pinched the lieutenant.

It's a very silly and amusing little fable about absolute power in the hands of an egomaniacal, paranoid moron. In Russia in 1934, you could make such a movie, so long as it was about Tsarist Russia. Still, I am reminded of what another Tsar said when he witnessed his courtiers and bureaucrats laughing at the premiere of Gogol's THE INSPECTOR GENERAL: "Don't they realize they are laughing at themselves?"

Sergei Prokofieff composed the score for this movie; it was his second movie credit. It has become a standard orchestral work as "The Lieutenant Kijé Suite."