Many scholars agree, that Fjodor Dostoevsky is a writer, whose works are notoriously hard to adapt into movies. This is not solely due to the length of many of his later novels, but because of the author's psychological storytelling, and the importance of inner monologue in his works. I've read "Crime and Punishment" twice, I really like it, and it's my favorite of his books next to "The Brothers Karamazov". If the adaptations of "Karamazov" have a nasty way of turning into simplified "whodunnits", the adaptations of "Crime and Punishment" are often tempted to become "perfect crime" narratives, if not straight-up Columbo episodes.
This being said, I usually have a fondness for adaptations of this novel, just like I have toward adaptations of Shakespeare's Hamlet or MacBeth. Even if the films are not masterful, they might still greatly benefit from the source material and stand out above average. The version by Sternberg and Peter Lorre is comically short, but has a certain charm. The same goes for the modernized treatment of Finnish director Aki Kaurismäki. Just because adapting Dostoevsky is hard, doesn't mean you can't try it.
This adaptation, by director Lev Kulidzhanov, is often hailed as one of the best "Crime and Punishment" adaptations. And it is very good. Due to the lengthy duration clocking in at almost four hours, this film has time for proper character development and thorough depiction of Raskolnikov's agony. And the visuals of the whole thing serve it great. This film is black and white, but most often it's really nothing but gray in its color palette, making it feel like a fever dream that refuses to end. It's dead calm and tormenting, which fits the novel perfectly.
The lack of a novel-like storyteller in a movie is fixed by giving the characters long monologues and dialogues, that can last small eternities. This really adds some feel of the book to the film. There are minor differences and things omitted from film, but this is always the case with adaptations, and not against the law. If some versions show Raskolnikov commit his crime mostly because of his Nietzche-like super-mensch theories, this adaptation stresses the financial difficulties that he faces. I love the look of his apartment in this film, with his living quarters being much smaller than in some western adaptations. When the protagonist has visitors, which is nearly always, it feels like they are really pressing towards his skin. This film is very claustrophobic.
My favorite character in this adaptation, and in most adaptations, is Porfiri, who is played in quiet determination by Innokentiy Smoktunovskiy. This was my favorite performance in the film, the character is sparingly used and many of his lines are kept in tact from the novel. The Raskolnikov in this version is one of the most distant, and least-relatable I have seen in any film. This might have to do with the subtle way, that the lead performance has been written and directed. He has many great scenes too.
In conclusion, in all areas of film-making, this Soviet film has merits to it. Though it's not perfect, and no adaption can beat the book, it's dark, ambitious, made with determination and appreciation for the source text.
