Envisioning Russia - and Mosfilm.

Mother Russia has come to Manhattan's Walter Reade Theater, and she'll be staying a while: three weeks to be exact, through February 14. As Richard Peña, program director for the Film Society of Lincoln Center, pointed out (to much laughter) during his introductory remarks at the opening night of Envisioning Russia: A Century of Filmmaking, the closing of the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics (USSR) and the opening of the Walter Reade Theater both took place in the same year: 1991. Russian film, not coincidentally, has long been among the staples of the WRT's programming. The Russian Ministry of Culture has designated 2008 as the centenary of Russian Cinema, so the time seems most appropriate for the FSLC and its partner in this event, Seagull Films, to host a Russian program this all-encompassing.

Updated through 1/30.

Unlike the FSLC's annual French, Italian and Spanish festivals that give cinephiles a look at what's currently happening in those countries, Envisioning Russia is much more concerned with the past than the present. Of the 29 programs/films, only four are from the 21st Century: last year's festival favorite, Aleksandr Sokurov's Alexandra with Galina Vishnevskaya; Aleksei Balabanov's Cargo 200 (given a small rave by David Denby in this past week's New Yorker); Sokurov's Rostropovich/Vishnevskaya documentary Elegy of Life; and the grand prize winner at the most recent Moscow International Film Festival, Vera Storozheva's Traveling with Pets.

Opening night festivities included the thankfully brief and rarely seen 1938 movie by Aleksandr Medvedkin, The New Moscow. This extremely odd combination of comedy, documentary, farce, musical, romance and propaganda has a few very funny moments and some enchantingly fresh-faced actors who spin a story involving city vs country, a "living" model of the future Moscow, a missing pig, polar bear costumes and more. There are a couple of nice songs, some interesting views of the Moscow of the 30s, and lots of love on the loose. At just 80 minutes, the movie does not outstay its welcome, and there is irony aplenty in the smiling, positive attitude of all these youngsters on view, so thrilled to be looking forward to all the upcoming Russian delights - including, of course, Joe Stalin. (The New Moscow will screen again on Thursday, January 31, at 8:15 pm and on Sunday, February 3, at 4 pm.)

The remaining films span the 1920s through the 1990s, with stalwarts such as Eisenstein's Battleship Potemkin (1925) and Tarkovsky's The Mirror (1974) screening along side two New York premieres: a John Ford-inspired 1936 "eastern" by Mikhail Romm entitled The Thirteen and the Russian folktale/American western combo White Sun of the Desert (1969), one of the most popular Russian films ever made. Other record-breakers include the 1980 Oscar-winner for Best Foreign Language film, Moscow Does Not Believe in Tears and writer/director Karen Shakhnazarov's Jazzmen (1983) and Courier (1986).

Mr Shakhnazarov is currently the head of Mosfilm Studios, the most famous and long-lasting of any Russian film studio, the output of which is the main focus of Envisioning Russia. You'll undoubtedly recognize the Mosfilm logo - a man and woman holding aloft a symbolic torch - which seemed to precede just about every Russian film I can remember seeing.

I snagged a few minutes of Shakhnazarov's time to learn what is happening these days at Mosfilm, which, since the time of perestroika and glasnost, has undergone some major changes. "Ten to 15 years ago," explains the studio head, "the Soviet film industry was nearly in ruins. The middle of 90s - it was a disaster. But the Russian film industry is these days growing very fast. There is much production now in both films and TV. TV channels, in particular, are growing fast, getting bigger and more numerous - and they are especially now investing money in theatrical films. Mosfilm is involved in more than 100 projects, both theatrical and TV. Sometimes we don't even divide this up: We just call them 'projects.'"

The downside - and of course there is one - notes Shakhnazarov, is that now, "Everything has become, in general, very commercial, which is not so good for creative projects. In this, I can say that Soviet cinema was much more creative before perestroika. This is strange. But the big Soviet filmmakers had more interesting and creative ideas then than we seem to have currently. I suppose today you could say that we have a crisis in terms of creative ideas."

What does Shakhnazarov see ahead for his studio? "My idea was to make Mosfilm a modern powerful factory for making films. And we have very well succeeded in modernizing. Now I would like to see us have more artistic projects, not only commercial. We could have a better balance, I think. This is just my opinion, of course."

Of course. But it sounds like a good one to me. Why would the embrace of capitalism in a country such as Russia not lead to the almost total commercialization of its film industry? Could it be any other way - at least for awhile? Unlikely.

I took a look at the two Shakhnazarov movies included in this festival and found one of them, Jazzmen, surprisingly commercial, given its pre-perestroika time frame. This unusually zestful film, full of energy and sly visual and verbal wit, is an homage to the early days of jazz in Russia. It features wonderful performances from its quartet of jazzmen and a raft of funny scenes, the best of which involves the senior member learning to improvise. At times the movie threatens to become a full-fledged musical but then stops short. And there's plenty of coincidence. Do our boys need to find a fellow who plays brass? You can bet they'll wake up in jail right next to one.

"Jazzmen was a huge hit in Russia," Shakhnazarov explains. "I suppose when it first appeared, jazz was a new theme. Not that Russians didn't know jazz, for it was already in the Soviet Union. But it has always had an up-and-down history, sometime forbidden, sometimes allowed. But to make a film about such things was very new. And to make a musical without political themes was even more new." The writer/director tells me that, at the time of the film's release, a journalist from Hungary told him that the movie was such a big hit because "It was so unexpected in Hungary - 'like a breath of freedom for us!' Jazzmen was filmed just prior to perestroika, and because of censorship, certain things had to be cut out." Even so, 25 years later, the film still seems surprisingly fresh - and very enjoyable. (Jazzmen will screen Sunday, January 27, at 7:15 pm and Wednesday, February 6, at 4 pm.)

Even better is Shakhnazarov's other film in the program, Courier, made in 1986 during the perestroika period. Beginning with a scene in divorce court, it lays out its characters - mother, father, son - with economy and wit. It also offers as good a depiction as I have seen of youth trying to figure out adulthood before it arrives there and fucks it up. The lead actor, a young man named Fyodor Dunayevsky, is priceless: Imagine a combination of Tom Cruise (circa Risky Business) and Michael Cera and you'll have an idea how very unusual is this character, Ivan. Cynical, bright and refusing all offers of peace, he consistently charms his way into something good - and then shoots himself in the foot. Perhaps the most surprising thing about this fine film is how little it has dated. It holds its own against any teen movie, past or present, that I can recall.

"Courier," explains Shakhnazarov, "was adapted from a novel I had written that was published prior to perestroika. It was not possible to make this film before perestroika, and it was among the first films from that period. The hero was very unusual for Soviet cinema at that time, someone who is against everything." As big a hit as was Jazzmen, Courier achieved even more. "It had the biggest success of any of my films in the Soviet Union." When I mention to the director that, even today, his character seems new and timely, Shakhnazarov notes that teenagers are always trying to find themselves. "They try to clear a place for themselves, but it's never easy." When we talk about the ending of the film, the director points out something, time-wise, that I had not realized and that impacts hugely upon its concluding scene: When the film was made, Russia was smack in the midst of losing its war against Afghanistan. (Courier will be shown Sunday, January 27, at 3:15 pm and Thursday, February 7, at 9 pm.)

Before we part, I asked the writer/director if he can suggest any particular must-see film in this festival. "I think that Richard Peña has done a very important job in choosing these movies. The problem is to show the reality of Soviet cinema over a long period. All the films are interesting, but I would suggest you see the film of Marlen Khutsiyev called July Rain. Khutsiyev influenced directors such as Tarkovsky, and I think he influenced very much the whole development of Soviet cinema. I would recommend that film. But, still," he pauses for a moment, "all the other films are interesting too!" (July Rain will be shown Saturday, February 9, at 2 and 6 pm.)

- James Van Maanen

Bruce Bennett in the New York Sun: "This three-week retrospective of classic movies produced under Soviet rule and recent fare created to compete in today's global economic free-for-all is an unusually far-reaching survey of Russian film's unfathomably deep creative well."

Earlier: Aaron Hillis in the Voice; and Lucy Ash in the New Statesman on White Sun of the Desert.

Update, 1/28: Online listening tip. Shakhnazarov is a guest on the Leonard Lopate Show.

Updates, 1/30: Nicolas Rapold in the L Magazine on The New Moscow: "Alexander Medvedkin’s 1938 comedy... cruises along blithely with a loony charm beyond standard patriotic kitsch, although throwaways about the desire to build and to love never hurt.... Of course, Medvedkin, who died just before the fall of Communism, has already gotten the full historical treatment in Chris Marker's 1993 essay film The Last Bolshevik, devoted to the filmmaker, the 20th century, cinema and the usual sardonically philosophical 'Etc.' But even without harvesting its ideological import, The New Moscow can stand on its own two silly feet."

Current series at the New Museum's Night School: After the Red Square. Post-communist art and film.

Posted by dwhudson at January 27, 2008 9:36 AM