Directed by:
Nikita MikhalkovCinematography:
Vilen KalyutaCast:
Oleg Menshikov, Nikita Mikhalkov, Ingeborga Dapkunaite, Nadezhda Mikhalkova, Vjačeslav Tichonov, Svetlana Kryuchkova, Vladimir Ilyin, Alla Kazanskaya (more)VOD (1)
Plots(1)
A long summer day in 1936. Colonel Kotov, an aging military hero of the Bolshevik revolution, is enjoying the sweet life in his country house, together with his captivating young wife Maroussia, their six-year-old daughter, and numerous family members and friends. Into this idyllic setting enters Dimitri, a young man who was Maroussia's lover a decade ago, before leaving under mysterious circumstances. Dimitri now works for Stalin's secret police, and it becomes clear that he has returned with an agenda. (official distributor synopsis)
(more)Reviews (7)
Michalkov's adept storytelling art, skillfully used within his capabilities, with a determined ambition to unveil the aura of mystery surrounding one of the many dark actions of Stalin's regime, is unquestionable. The unusually used form of probing into an officer's family compels the viewer to ponder the prevailing situation everywhere. However, the two-and-a-quarter-hour narration through the most tedious possible form, consisting of long dialogue-heavy scenes that (perhaps) lead to "something" progressing the plot, occasionally deviates from its original intention of delivering a certain dose of epicness, which was meant to contrast with the minimalist casting of the family circle. Despite the intentional slow pacing, the film leaves something behind in the viewer after it ends, automatically resonating on a deeper level. And that "something" is not a pleasant thing to think about, even though that was Nikita's point.
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In the end, a brilliant indictment of the Stalinist purges in the Soviet army of the late 1930s. At the beginning the film deceives with its body, Michalkov lulls the viewer with a plethora of humorous situations and the depiction of Colonel Kotov's idyllic family life, only to grab them by the throat at the end and strangle them with a demonstration of the practices of NKVD agents. Michalkov and Imbragimbek's film is both kind and terrifying, and the Oscar is in the right hands. And what I would also like to highlight are the performances of all the actors involved, especially Michalkov himself and his real daughter Nadezhda, who is absolutely disarming with her immediacy, as if standing in front of the camera is the easiest thing in the world.
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When I first saw the film in the 1990s, it had a profound effect on me. Today, however, I am a little disappointed with it. I'm not saying it's a bad movie, but it's not worthy of the adoration I felt at the time. Nevertheless, I think it is one of the key works of Russian cinema, so it is worth paying attention to. In particular, I never cease to be fascinated by the alarming contrast between the carefully drawn rural idyll full of poetry and the final dramatic sequence of events. (85%)
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This film won me over years ago. What I enjoy most about it is the brutal contrast of the relaxed summer idyll with the harsh reality of Stalin's purges, the perfect atmosphere, and the three outstanding performances by Oleg Menshikov, Nikita Mikhalkov, and Nadezhda Mikhalkova. I've said many times how I feel about children in film, but Nadia gave a truly excellent performance as Nadia, albeit mightily supported by her daddy/co-actor/director/screenwriter.
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A film in which the poetics of The Cherry Orchard meet the poetics of socialist realism. The poetics of the old peaceful bourgeois world with a chaotic and bizarre new order of the Stalinist line. In the peaceful setting of the Soviet countryside, in the harmonic rhythm of a traditional Russian family, an inconspicuous, but then absolutely captivating story of revenge and conscience plays out. The story of a man in the meat grinder of history, a man scorched (not tired!) by the sun of revolution. There is no doubt that the intimate story, similarly to Yugoslav cinematography, metaphorically mirrors the world of the Stalinist USSR (a world shaped and dragged by ideology). It mirrors it with almost frightening suggestiveness, yet unforced by the shallow shocking shots. At the same time, Michalkov plays out extraordinarily pure and believable tones of romance, in which the incredibly charismatic performance of the director himself, and especially of his daughter Naděžda, dominate. Their mutual harmony is absolute, beautiful, indescribable. Because of these two things, the drama of a man who believes in the religion of the new order, the utopia of a beautiful tomorrow, but who eventually becomes a victim thereof, is civilly harmonious and drastically dramatic beneath its surface. Oleg Menshikov also gives a fantastic performance - his study of an internally divided man has a legible structure and enormous internal dynamics. Michalkov's feeling for the composition of the image is absolute, and for alternating peaceful scenes of the Old Russian family and even comically conceived intrusions of socialism into people's lives. The leitmotifs of the ball lightning and the wandering mover frame the precise composition, giving it a regular rhythm and a touch of absurdity. The construction of the Stalinist balloon then symbolizes the eternal presence of the leader in everyday joys and sorrows. Not to mention the song that gave the film its name and which, with its melancholy, brings tears to the eyes. Michalkov's statement about the Stalinist regime is therefore so effective and so immediate that it is not in and of itself an accusation, but rather a biased account of people's fates. People whose lives have been burned to ashes by the phantom leader of one-sixth of the world.
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