One of the books I have read recently has been Cinema and Soviet Society, 1917-1953, which, most interestingly for me, contains a comprehensive look at the cinema industry policy and how it affected the content of film.
But one of the most striking things that can be drawn from the book is the infighting within critical and artistic circles about the merits of each film’s ideological purity - did, for instance, the montage technique pioneered by Eisenstein and Vertov reflect the revolutionary cause? And how could the need to break with the capitalist way of film production be reconciled with the need for ‘art for the masses’?
I had the luck of getting a hold relatively easily a copy of Earth (or Zemlya), directed by Aleksandr Dovzhenko, a film which had been rather viciously accused by Soviet critics and other directors for ideological impurity.
This discussion rings true for watching silect movies: there is much to adjust to, and the fact that they are silent is the least challenging. In the past, I’ve tried a number of solutions to make adjestments - watching one copy of Nosferatu with a particularly atrocious musical soundtrack, I often turn it to mute and listen to a different music. You’d think this would be jarring - the mood of the music wouldn’t match up to the images - but sometimes this matching is so woefully done that playing your own music has at worst a neutral effect on the film.
Earth is no exception - it is extremely slow and overacted by modern standards. The plot seems simple, and the characters poorly drawn (but, unlike the famous Eisenstein or Vertov films which more people may be vaguely familiar with, at least there are characters.) In the copy I watched the dialogue sometimes seemed ludicriously irrelevant to the plot - although the coherance of the film may have been damaged by the passage of time; it was not uncommon for films to be cut and recut by local distributers.
But there is a lot that is fascinating in Earth. It seems shocking, at least to a modern viewer, that this film could ever be considered ideologically impure by the standards of the time. Its plot is simple; a tractor arrives in a village, giving the poor villagers the will and the energy to overthrow the exploitative capitalist farmer. To emphasis how evil the capitalist is, he murders the handsome male hero.
It was condemned, perhaps understandably, for showing the hero’s girlfriend mourning his death by trashing about naked in her room. But it was also condemned for insufficient adherance to the party line and for excessive use of artistic techniques.
I have to admit - many of these films I watch not for their aesthetic pleasures, which do exist but do not necessarily fully reward the amount of effort it takes a modern viewer to find them. Instead, they are most entertaining in their historical context - knowing when they were made, how they were made and how they were received. (Whatever the film’s merits, can anybody say their appreciation for Citizen Kane is not greater than after learning the story behind its production and consequences?) Reading a fascinating book like Cinema and Soviet Society makes you want to watch as many of these as you can - to see the stereotypes and cookie-cutter plots on screen rather than in theory.