And how they tell it! From the deepest-felt (one might say exaggerated) romanticism of Tchaickovsky to the grandeur and intellectualism of Rachmaninov or Prokofiev, you can hear the human warmth written in words by Dostoyevsky, Pushkin, Pasternak, Chekhov, Sholokhov, Turguenef; from the great ballet companies to the roving theatre groups and the splendid musicians that Russia has produced, we can easily see that the culture of the Russian soul emanates from the deepest roots of human feelings; the legends of the great expanses of land from Kazakhstan and Siberia to Byelorussia and Ukrania have their story to relate.
I am not given to idol-making; idols are easily perched up on pedestals for consumer appetites, and just as easily knocked down and replaced by others, dictates of economic needs. But Russia has, at least romantically, signified so much in terms of human values, now subjected to the necessities of adjusting to a competitive world that has fallen into uncontrolled anarchy and corruption. And my feelings go out to Russia and her people, a land full of the simplicity of greatness but which has hardly ever been able to flourish into great tangible results, which is what we measure wealth by here in the west. Russia's wealth lies in her heart, not in her bank accounts.
However, Pavel Chukhraj has come to the surface with `Vor', one of the first Russian films I have been able to see. And I was not disappointed: here is a beautifully polished diamond amid so much uncut rough glass, with that hallmark of authenticity from whence came The Brothers Karamazov, The Don Trilogy, The Idiot and even Doctor Zhivago. What I think most marks this wonderful film is that the story in the Russia of the 1950's is so plausible, so probable, and is carried out without any of the acting going over the top; indeed so natural are the interpretations one almost feels that nobody is acting, but living out a true story. I mean, you see this lad of eight years of age interpreting a six-year-old without any superfluous gestures; he carries out his rôle as if he were playing himself; just how do you get an eight-year-old to act, anyway? Misha Philipchuk (Sanya) in fact is Tazhiki: his infinite blue eyes look at you from the screen, and as they bore into your soul you reach down into his. And that does not happen from simply acting. There is something else there, and Chukhraj understood that clearly. The other main actors, Mashkov, who is Tolyan Vor, the thief - and Yekaterina Rednikova as Sanya's mother, play their parts with such genuine interpretations; there is none of that overacted shrieking for the sake of the box-office; there is only the naturalness of flesh and blood people seeking warm hearts with which to share the events of life. A cruel life for so many Russians.
Beautiful, wonderful, heart-warming but chilling, `Vor' is a great little gem. It cannot even be called a character-driven drama: precisely because there are no scenes of the usual grandiose dialogues associated with such a concept. Here the whisper is heard much more audibly than the yelling. After all, Russians have always been great conversationalists; here in the hustle and bustle of the west we only know how to talk, but we do not listen, such that conversation real conversation is rarely possible. Bear with the subtitles and listen carefully to how the dialogues work.
Bravo! Russia: am I glad that you are still there!
I am not given to idol-making; idols are easily perched up on pedestals for consumer appetites, and just as easily knocked down and replaced by others, dictates of economic needs. But Russia has, at least romantically, signified so much in terms of human values, now subjected to the necessities of adjusting to a competitive world that has fallen into uncontrolled anarchy and corruption. And my feelings go out to Russia and her people, a land full of the simplicity of greatness but which has hardly ever been able to flourish into great tangible results, which is what we measure wealth by here in the west. Russia's wealth lies in her heart, not in her bank accounts.
However, Pavel Chukhraj has come to the surface with `Vor', one of the first Russian films I have been able to see. And I was not disappointed: here is a beautifully polished diamond amid so much uncut rough glass, with that hallmark of authenticity from whence came The Brothers Karamazov, The Don Trilogy, The Idiot and even Doctor Zhivago. What I think most marks this wonderful film is that the story in the Russia of the 1950's is so plausible, so probable, and is carried out without any of the acting going over the top; indeed so natural are the interpretations one almost feels that nobody is acting, but living out a true story. I mean, you see this lad of eight years of age interpreting a six-year-old without any superfluous gestures; he carries out his rôle as if he were playing himself; just how do you get an eight-year-old to act, anyway? Misha Philipchuk (Sanya) in fact is Tazhiki: his infinite blue eyes look at you from the screen, and as they bore into your soul you reach down into his. And that does not happen from simply acting. There is something else there, and Chukhraj understood that clearly. The other main actors, Mashkov, who is Tolyan Vor, the thief - and Yekaterina Rednikova as Sanya's mother, play their parts with such genuine interpretations; there is none of that overacted shrieking for the sake of the box-office; there is only the naturalness of flesh and blood people seeking warm hearts with which to share the events of life. A cruel life for so many Russians.
Beautiful, wonderful, heart-warming but chilling, `Vor' is a great little gem. It cannot even be called a character-driven drama: precisely because there are no scenes of the usual grandiose dialogues associated with such a concept. Here the whisper is heard much more audibly than the yelling. After all, Russians have always been great conversationalists; here in the hustle and bustle of the west we only know how to talk, but we do not listen, such that conversation real conversation is rarely possible. Bear with the subtitles and listen carefully to how the dialogues work.
Bravo! Russia: am I glad that you are still there!