Voskreseniye

This is a film of Leo Tolstoy's famous novel RESURRECTION. It is an epic made on the grand scale with brilliant direction, acting, and cinematography. It was made in black and white, which considering the nature of the story gives it more appropriate atmosphere and intensity. It appears that this magnificent achievement is essentially unknown outside Russia, and it has never been reviewed on IMDb until now. The film is so impressive it really ought to be given a fresh launch with a band and drums and cannons fired in salute. Mikhail Shvejtser (1920-2000) was the director, and he proves without question that he was a truly great master. He directed only 16 films in his career, which lasted from 1949 to 1993. The next to last was another Tolstoy tale, THE KREUTZER SONATA (KREYTSEROVA SONATA), in 1992. He made films of some Chekhov stories and a TV series of Nikolai Gogol's DEAD SOULS (1984). The other spectacular feature of this film is the lead female performance as Katyusha Maslova by the young actress Tamara Syomina. If this film had not been made in the Soviet Union in the middle of the Cold War, the film and Syomina would probably both have won Oscars; but instead, no one in the West even knew it existed. Syomina is so outstanding that it is difficult to take one's eyes off her for long enough to see anyone else on the screen. Evgeniy Matveev is perfect as Prince Nekhlyudov, whose character transformation from selfish spoilt rich man to compassion and a social conscience during the course of the film is akin to a resurrection. All the cast are excellent. The cinematography is heavily influenced by German Expressionism, and there are inspired closeups such as one of a door latch which goes up and down as Katyusha hesitates whether to open it or not. The entire story depends upon whether she opens that door. The infrastructure and mechanics of a courtroom, the preparations by the judges, the shuffling of papers, the behaviour of the jurors, are all examined under a microscope. The satire of the Tsarist regime is expressed so subtly that it was clearly just enough to satisfy the Soviet censors but mild enough for us to say that this is not really a political film at all. 'The System' is relentlessly exposed. But the story is essentially one about human character and conscience. There are no war scenes. The time is the end of the 19th century (Tolstoy died in 1910), a time when everything seemed normal on the surface but when everything was bubbling up to the unsuccessful Revolution of 1905 (an event commemorated by Boris Pasternak's long epic poem THE YEAR 1905). The film does not preach; we can see the social injustices without anyone trying to tell us what to think about them. The scene when Prince Nekhlyudov is surrounded by staring and silent village urchins, and instead of ignoring them begins to talk to them and ask them about their lives, is heart-breaking. The film deals with some of the deepest issues of human morality. It is an overwhelming experience and deserves to be seen widely. It is, frankly, a masterpiece. I obtained a copy with English subtitles from Movie Detective.

Cinematic adaptations of Tolstoy's last great novel 'Resurrection' are abundant. Notable versions are those of Rolf Hansen and Mizoguchi whilst it is probably best to pass over Mamoulian's homogenised Hollywood version. In film, as in sport, it is very often the 'home team' that has the advantage and that is definitely the case in this film directed by one who was at the time a relative newcomer, Mikhail Schweitser.

Released in two parts it is on an epic scale and presents a panoramic view of Tsarist society with an emphasis on the utterly corrupt nature of its judicial system. Tolstoy's novel faced both censure and censorship when it was first published and the characters of fallen woman Katyusha Maslova and profligate Prince Nekhlyudov are symbols of social injustice and glaring inequality.

When a classic is brought to the screen and text becomes image, the casting is absolutely vital and Schweitser has chosen well. There is an astonishing film debut here by Tamara Syomina as Katyusha whose journey from virgin to prostitute to condemned prisoner is mesmerising. She finally settles for a platonic relationship with a fellow prisoner in Siberia and her own 'resurrection' is mirrored by that of Nekhlyudov who is redeemed by witnessing the devastating consequences of elitist arrogance, selfishness and indifference. He is portrayed with the utmost subtlety by the greatly respected Yevgeny Matveyev who was no mean director himself.

The gallery of characters, both major and minor, is superbly realised and the basing of many scenes on Leonid Pasternak's illustrations from the 1898 edition is inspired. Geogi Sviridov has contributed a powerful score.

The lack of subtitles is to be regretted but if one has read the novel, this pretty faithful adaptation by Yvgeny Gabrilovich, its director's visual sense, its excellent performances and its powerful emotions should carry one through. Conversely it might prompt those who have not read the original to do so. Either way the effort is worthwhile.