Shinel

Nikolay Gogol's short story is one of the major classics in Russian literature and tells the story of a small man constantly humiliated by his fellows and by his fate, which strikes him with overwhelming cruelty, as he reaches some kind of glory at his humble situation as a clerk by raising his status considerably as he acquires a decent overcoat, for which he is even celebrated, until one evening some hoodlums attack him in the street and rob him of his overcoat, turning his life into mortal humiliation. The film sticks to Gogol's original with pious fidelity, and Rolan Bykov's impersonation of Akaki Akakievitch is more than convincing - it is overwhelming in its heart-breaking pathos. This is a film you will never forget. I saw it as a child which brought me headlong into Russian literature, and I always looked forward to seeing it again. After almost 60 years I recognized almost every detail, as the film is made with an expressionistic cijnematography that makes every scene visually impressive in its exquisite art. This is a oarallel masterpiece to "The Lady with the Small Dog" of the same year with Alexei Batalov as the male lead, who directed this picture.

Watching Mira Nair directed film 'Namesake' eventually brought me to this Russian movie. One of the iconic lines mentioned in 'Namesake' is 'we are all from Gogol's Overcoat'. The quote is attributed to Dostoevsky, who meant the whole Russian literary world owe their ideas and styles to Gogol, the pre-eminent satirist and literary realism.

Gogol's Overcoat had made it to the silver screen many times over. From the silent film production in 1916 to the 2018 animated version, some of it carries different storylines.

This 1959 Soviet production stays true to the original short story. I also managed to catch up with a made-for-TV adaptation for 'Douglas Fairbanks Jr. Presents' starring Buster Keaton named 'Awakening'. Both of these movies are available on YouTube.

Akaki Akakievich, the protagonist in Gogol's story, is a sad character who leads a boring life. He works in a governmental agency doing seemingly mundane job of keeping records, writing and copying documents. In his mind, he is doing something quite profound. He knows all the figures and numbers like the back of his hand. His eccentricity is actually the butt of joke among his co-worker. Akaki earns pittance, and it shows. He lives in a rented room in the poor side of town. His overcoat is so worn out and cannot be patched anymore, according to his tailor.

He stinges through to be able to sew a new coat and receives attention from his co-workers when he shows up with his new overcoat. The usual socially awkward Akiki is feted with an office party in his honour. Akiki is extremely happy with his decision, but still, his new purchase cannot change his awkwardness. He personifies his coat and cares for it dearly, sometimes over the top. He even removes the coat when it snows, not wanting to get it wet.

Going home, his flashy coat draws unwanted attention. He is mugged. Muggers scoot off with his pricey possession. Next comes the lengthy bureaucracy of reporting his theft. He is given the runaround. His loss and exposure of cold proved too much for Akiki. Akiki succumbs to pneumonia and haunts the neighbourhood. A meaningless death to a person leading a meaningless life.

The Buster Keaton version (The Awakening) has a slightly different ending. Akiki does not die, but instead, is determined to relive his dream where he raises up to assassinate the chief of the tyrannic system.

The story is a symbolism of a broken system. Even though people's patience has been stretched thin with ridiculous policies and unwise decisions, the people go on thinking that they are doing alright. Not realising that the joke is on them, they blindly give themselves a pat on their back for a job well done. Unbeknownst to everyone changes can be detrimental, but then, the Truth or generation after them will rise to the occasion. This is shown as Akiki coming back as a ghost to haunt the living daylight of the people of St Petersburg.

Aleksey Batalov's 1959 production of The Overcoat is an earnest adaption of Gogol's famed short story. Batalov closely depicts Gogol's critical portrayal of Russian society. The emphasis of humorous aspects of the narrative gives way to a somewhat genteel spin on Gogol's central character, Akaky Akakieyevich, but the tragedy of the story and the critique which it underscores remain resonant in the film as a whole. Some of Gogol's frankness and the authenticity of third person experience are lost in the humorous flourishes of the movie.

Even in the opening scene, where viewers find Akaky Akakieyevich in the cradle attended by his mother, who rocks him gently, an amusing spectacle cast in a charming light takes the place of Gogol's rather stark and unnerving scene. The mother is surrounded by friends who offer her names for her child. She gingerly dispenses with each suggestion in favor of the name of the father. Here bestowal is a redundancy, which in Gogol's darker treatment sets off a theme of austerity. His account of the room is dissimilar. Godmother and Godfather list names for the prone mother who protests bitterly, only to choose the above in deference to "fate." Akaky then cries and makes a "wry face" as if to foreshadow his gloomy existence.

Departing from Gogol's tone, the film adopts a rather organic understanding of Akaky's debacle. The repetition of familiar scenes depicting modern trifles in humorous light deaden the impact of pathos. Akakieyevich bumbles in his apartment plagued by a meddling and captious landlady. The theme of chill is evident in the commute scene but its prevalence does not match Gogol. The society of the office is a farce the extent of which ruptures Gogol's realistic scale. Akaky is a persecuted hero who speaks directly to his attackers: "why do you persecute me." His words find purchase in the consciences of his coworkers even amid social distraction. The scene takes on a fable- like quality which undermines its relevance.

Gogol directly apologizes early in his story for the indulgences of his narrative which bring peripheral characters into view. He notes, too, his decision to omit the name of the department under discussion, "to avoid all unpleasantness." This places his character in direct correspondence to a social atmosphere. The reader understands the author is subject to a dangerous set of liabilities. The story seems timeless even in this context of social oppression. Akakieyevich is tethered intractably to a condition which itself seems eternal. The film portrays a man, whose tale is floating in the nebula of history, a fiction of import unattached to place and time. The humor is a modern variety reminiscent of Charlie Chaplin. Episodes, such as Akaky's struggle to do laundry in his landlady's quarters, resonate with Gogol's themes but fetch laughs which drown the author's intentions in the absurd.

"Shinel" is adapted from Nikolai Gogol's story about Akaki Akakievich (literally translated, that comes out as "without evil without evil-son), who always has the worst luck in the world. Stuck in a dead-end job with an abusive boss and co-workers, nothing ever works out for him. His apartment looks like something out of a Jean-Paul Sartre play.

This certainly is a good adaptation, although you may feel tempted to throw out "MST3K"-style comments at it, due to the movie's overstuffed sense of itself. I jokingly called the character an Arte Johnson lookalike, although it's only actor Rolan Bykov who looks like Arte Johnson. All in all, this is a good movie, with a real classic feeling of Russian fatalism.

The opening scene of Aleksei Batalov's "The Overcoat" has a baby crying on being given his lousy name- Akaki Akakiyevich. It's a moment that is both sad and funny, and establishes the tone of the story, which is about a good-hearted man who just seems to have been cursed with low status and bad luck. Akaki grows up to become a clerk in an office filled with people who mock him and make him the butt of their practical jokes. He goes home everyday to his dingy apartment, where he has a stash of money hidden so he can save up for an overcoat. When he finally buys it, the coat brings Akaki a kind of warmth and companionship that he has been missing. No one else can see why it's so special to him. Then, one day, his coat is stolen...

Anyone familiar with Gogol's justly famous short story will probably like this film. It has a few flaws: Rolan Bykov, despite having a strong lead performance, is a little too doe-eyed at moments (such as when he tearfully asks his bullying co-workers "Why do you persecute me?" and they are immediately overwhelmed with sympathy), and the sense of humor that was so crucial to Gogol's masterpiece diminishes as the film progresses. But the pluses outweigh the minuses by far. The script is very faithful to the story, allowing the twist at the end to come as a satisfying surprise for the audience, just as it should. Yelena Ponsova is delightful as the crotchety old landlady, and the other supporting actors all have enjoyable performances. The music score adds a nice touch, and the beautifully lit black-and-white photography is often stunning. At 75 minutes, Batalov's film is a short work of art in its own right- not always perfect, but very likeable and deeply felt.