Jonah-7 Reviews

Ashik Kerib (1988)

A stunning experiment in living icons

[10/10 · 23 August 1999]

This is Sergei Paradjanov's last film. He died after it's completion.

Ashik Kerib is based on a the poem by Mikhail Lermontov which he wrote while in exile in the Caucasus. It blends many cultures; Armenian, Georgian, Moslem, and Orthodox iconography.

Paradjanov meant the film for children, there is no dense, intellectual symbolism in it. There is also no dialogue. It was his ideal to create a visual myth. The film is incredibly beautiful, truly an experience.

One thing to note is how he makes two-dimensional icons come to life in the film. If there is a man that "paints" on celluloid, it is Paradjanov.

Come and See (1985)

The greatest depiction of war in film . . . ever.

[10/10 · 22 August 1999]

I have never been so affected by a film. At no point in my life have I hated war as much as I did throughout the watching of this film. Now I understand why Come and See was used to educate East German students as a sort of "Just Say No" propaganda film against neo-Fascism. However, while I watched it not once was there a moment of self-reference in relation to the film or intellectualizing over the mise en scène. This is owed completely to the effectiveness of Elem Klimov's intentions. The title, "Come and See," is his direct invitation to the audience to join in the horrors of 1943 Byelorussia. We are not permitted any moment to wander through the scenery. This is a polar contrast with Tarkovsky, who gives us the gift of time and silent contemplation as if we were reading a spiritual text. With this film every moment is charged with a negative beat tied to an even more negative beat looming on the horizon. The sequence in the forest with Florya (Aleksei Kravchenko) and the girl (Olga Mironova) is an ominous allusion to innocent love, yet through sound and the handling of the camera we are not allowed to relax in the children's fantasy. It suggests a traditional youth-in-love sequence, but a constant unsteadiness of camera and a cacophony of discomforting sounds mocks the viewer. We are not allowed to find solace in their relationship, because the viewer possesses a sober omniscience of what is likely to come thus separating us from their delusion. Klimov uses unsteadiness of camera and erratic panning to keep the viewer dreading the coming events. Even when the subject is not moving through the scene there is a subtle chaotic motion of the camera, contributing to the feeling that the very air that the characters inhabit is thick and unbearable, that to move through nature is to traverse a battlefield.

Chapaev (1934)

An interesting account of a Russian war hero . . .

[22 August 1999]

Chapayev was an illiterate war hero in the Russian Revolution. He is an interesting character. Completely illiterate, he was an inspiration to his men by being simple, brave, modest and honest. Think G.C. Scott's "Patton" or "Sharpe's Rifles," this is Chapayev! It rings vaguely of propaganda, like most war films of the 30's. The White Guard officers are portrayed as greedy, abusive dilletantes, whereas Red Chapayev and his Bolshevik comrade and assistant are honest, wholesome folk. This film is a good war flick, and one interesting thing about it was that the brothers Vasiliev attempted to film everything in the actual locations where the battles took place. Chapayev really died where he did in the movie. Good for history buffs, definitely.