Movie Review: Aleksandr Sokurov’s Russian Ark (Update 03-28-2007)
Since I make it a point to forego reading reviews, plot summaries, and descriptions before embarking on a movie, the thing that intrigued me the most about Russian Ark was the metaphor: Where and What is a Russian Ark? It was only halfway through the movie I realized the absence of that omniscient modern-day device in American moviemaking: 5 choppy angles and cuts-per-second a la Bruckheimer. I ignored it and continued watching the film. Of course, a part of me did marvel at the technical feat of pulling off such a long take, but to appreciate the Russian Ark because the movie was filmed in one continuous take, would be like asking someone to admire Proust’s Remembrances of Things Past because it has 1.5 million words. (After all, haven’t we all learned from Franz Liszt that quantity doesn’t always necessarily mean quality?)I’m not sure whether the trailers were geared towards American filmgoers, since the whole selling point seemed to pivot on the motto: “2000 actors, 300 years, 90 minutes, 1 take.” How could anyone forget the almost non-sequitur American trailers to Bergman films in the sixties?For fans of Russian filmmaker Andrei Tarkovski’s work (whom Sokurov is seen as the heir), the notion of “Sculpting with Time” is brought to its logical and technological limit in Russian Ark. The continuous shot utilizes formalism to create a flow that may take getting used to. Having seen Sukorov’s Second Circle and Robert Hubert: A Fortunate Life (a short that walks through the Hermitage Museum as well), I was prepared for a slow moving film. Devotees of period pieces will love this film as four years went into the preparation of this 90 minute sequence. No detail was overlooked in costume design and set recreation.
What was astounding to me was the way the notion of extreme compression forced one to re-evaluate time duration itself. In thinking about Russian Ark, one suddenly realizes just how much can be accomplished in the span of ninety minutes. So this revelation, in itself, is Sokurov’s great gift to viewers of his film: It’s about the preciousness of time. In the DVD extra, the narrator of the documentary reveals the metaphor of the Russian Ark. I won’t give it away here, but given the geographical locale of the Hermitage Museum, it is a gloriously apt metaphor.
Personally I found the quiet ending that panned out onto the edge of the Neva River (whereby the Hermitage sits in St. Petersburg) to be the spectacular ending, evoking a long meditative silence on where the Ark of art and creativity is heading in our modern times. I have adored Tarkovski’s Andrei Rublev and Stalker because I’ve always felt it asked the question that is the lifeforce to my existence: Why do we continue to create?
