Alexander Nevsky (Nikolai Cherkasov, Nikolai Okhlopkov) 1/2
Alexander Nevsky is one of the foremost examples of propaganda of the last 100 years. Filmmaker Sergei Eistenstein was commissioned by Stalin in 1938 to create a work that would emphasize the civilian importance of fidelity and patriotism to then pre-war (and pre-invaded) Russia. Eisenstein wrote the screenplay with Pyotr Pavlenko and began shooting the intense battle scenes using members of Russia's army as extras. Backed and banked with Stalin's approval, the result was an immensely popular film with a centrepiece battle sequence that remains unrivalled in terms of scope and detail.
The story is simple, but entrancing. It takes place in the year 1242, when Russia was a target of invading armies from other lands. The town of Pskov has just been conquered by the Tetutonic Knights, who, with their swastika-shaped crosses and masked faces, were blatant symbols for modern day German Nazis (in the film, they are depicted throwing babies into fires and killing Russians by the dozens). The revered leader Alexander Nevsky (Nikolai Cherkasov) is asked to lead his countrymen in defending the land. He recruits the help of the citizens of Novgorod, one of the few cities still unvanquished. Among the citizens who join the fight are the jovial Vasili Buslaj (Nikolai Okhlopkov) and Gavrilo Oleksich (Andrei Abrikosov). They make a pact to be heroic in battle, so that the bravest can marry the beautiful Olga (Vera Ivashova). The Russians mount an attack on the Teutonic Knights in the hopes that a disguised river of thin ice will make for a clever trap.
Rarely has a musical score meshed so well with a film. Classical composer Sergei Prokofiev ("Peter and the Wolf", "Romeo and Juliet") adds atmosphere to Eisenstein's sombre black and white images. The minor chords that accompany the passages featuring the Teutonics are counter-balanced with the patriotic stirrings of the Russians. And Eduard Tisse's cinematography is open and expansive -- a reminder it is set in the 13th century, despite the more deliberately anachronistic embellishments. Most of the performances are subservient to the camerawork and the nationalist dialogue.
At the root of Alexander Nevsky, there is action, heart, and even humour. Certainly, knowing it was made under the compromised auspices of swaying a nation is cause for guarded acceptance, but nevertheless the scope and impact of this epic is an attestation to Eisenstein's skill as a director. Through riveting battle scenes and innovative montages, we find ourselves swept away by the prospect of a Russian victory and marvel at the eloquent manner in which it is presented and executed.
