La dame au petit chien

gentle, fragile, delicate. Tchekov spirit in an impressive adaptation of a very well short story. a show of nuances in which Iya Savvina is fabulous. for the measure of gestures, for the force of words, for the translation of a profound drama without any cure or limit. a film of nuances about shadow of happiness. a man, a woman, a husband, a wife, Ialta. and few walks. entire flavor of a time is recreated. entire charm of a great writer creation is exposed in magnificent mode. like an old song," Dama s sobachkoj " is a kind of time travel. in heart of lost world. in middle of bitter circle. in fact, only continuous present far from every mask.

This film was made for the 100th anniversart of Anton Tchekhov, and like almost all Russian films made on their literature it is extremely faithful to the original. Anton Tchekhov is all there from beginning to end, and although the film mainly consists of only trivialities, like David Lean's "Brief Encounter", it is only the more exciting and spellbinding for its attention to the smallest details and the pettiest characters showing up on the way. Alexey Batalov and Iya Savvina are more than perfect in their leading roles, her melancholy frailty shines throughout the film with absolute truthfulness, and his resigned broodings, you actually get nothing to know about him until long after you learned everything about her, adds to the very romantic nature of this adorable cinematic poetry, unique and unsurpassed in its kind. Another important support and enhancement of this extreme romanticism in all its very restrained discipline - there is not one superfuous detail in the whole film - is the mesmerizing and unforgettable music by Nadezhda Simonyan. The tune will haunt you forever, and although this is a story without end, nothing is resolved, there are only question marks and incertitude in the end, that is actually where the film and story starts. You'll never know how it continues, but somehow it will continue forever.

I admired the fact that the director paid such close attention to local detail that he included several scenes to point out the Moslem presence in Yalta (some 20% of the people are Tartars). There is a scene in which two touristy looking males order drinks in the hotel and then stick a pinkie into their glasses. This is a custom among westernized Turks who wish to follow the Koran's admonition that "the first drop of alcohol shall not pass your lips." So the first drop is removed. Then the coachman does his prayers while waiting for the lovers. And a mother is shown wearing a birka as the children are drilled in their Russian declensions. My fedora is tipped for him.

They don't make films like this any more. In film you either make it in the best time honoured classical tradition: logical sequence, irony, exquisite painstaking set-ups with perfect lighting, costumes, extras, everything pleasing to the eye and the heart and you find others watching it with a smile on their faces; or you make it so fast, jump edits, ramping, so wild that only you know the rules. Well you can do it the Clint Eastwood way which is the perfectly oiled machine: film them during the rehearsal. He really belongs to the classical genre. The problem with the second way is that you can't sit easily through two hours of a movie made like that. A pop video of two minutes fine, otherwise you emerge from the cinema with your brain fried and the stupid expression you get after sitting through three hours of watching ad commercial festivals. I've done it many times, and it's unnatural, and not good for you. THE LADY WITH THE LITTLE DOG is a perfect little story, superbly acted, observed, costumed, directed, lit, everything. A masterpiece of black and white. It cannot be faulted in any way. It must have taken ages to do the set-ups, something no one can afford to do these days; but then with the state paying the salaries, who was counting? So it was made during the Soviet era: but what is perfect, is perfect, for all time.

"Dama s sobachkoy" or "The Lady With the Dog" is an adaptation of the famous (and rather good) Anton Chekhov short story of the same name. Director Iosif Kheifits approaches the film sensibly by adapting not only the story but also many of the sensibilities and characteristics present in Chekhov's writing.

First of all, the pacing: In keeping with Chekhov's short story the pacing is natural in the way one would relate a truly affecting story from their life- slowly but also in a sense relentlessly and without break. Also typical of Chekhov and thankfully not changed in this film version is the lack of a moral 'message' as well as the subtle characterization that depends on highlighting character traits rather than blatantly telling you what sort of character to expect.

As a film "Dama s sobachkoy" is definitely impressive with the striking black and white photography by Dmitri Meskhiyev and Andrei Moskvin perfectly accentuating the various moods of the film. There's also a memorable score by Nadezhda Simonyan to add to the film with the main theme being particularly effective.

I'm not sure if I see any real flaws in "Dama s sobachkoy" but somehow it doesn't come off as a classic. What it does succeed in is becoming an excellent adaptation of a memorable short story that is pulled off unusually but very well regardless.

8/10