User reviews

This is a totally excellent man vs. nature drama. An outstandingly dramatic soundtrack is coupled with some of the most powerful and unique visuals I've ever seen. If you thought Tarkovsky was a one-shot in the Soviet Union when it came to beautiful yet haunting images, you'll definitely think again after this movie. The characters and the story are perhaps not too well developed, but this somehow adds to the sense of not being totally in control, which is important here. It's nothing short of a tragedy that this movie is totally unknown; it would probably have been a candidate of reaching IMDb's top 50 if it were. Those looking for unknown classics should hunt this one down at all costs.

Stunning cinematography in the Siberian taiga is the highlight here, with scenes like the dramatic/scary forest fire and ice floe accentuated by artistic camera work, including some nifty handheld shots. It's a survival story, one in which a quartet of explorers go out into the rugged wilderness in the hopes of finding diamonds to help the technological advancement of the Soviet state, but find themselves imperiled by the merciless forces of nature. Director Mikhail Kalatozov and cinematographer Sergey Urusevsky made a beautiful film here, one that for the visuals alone made it well worth seeing.

Where the film fell a little short for me was in how forced a couple of its aspects were. The first was the romantic angles, with Tatiana Samoilova and Vasily Livanov playing the two geologists on the mission who are also in love. While that could have added depth to the story and I would watch Samoilova in pretty much anything, the dialogue seemed so inauthentic that it pulled me out of feeling any kind of emotion for the two, or the tension of jealousy from a third man, played by Yevgeni Urbansky. I felt the same way about the titular framing for the story, a letter being composed by the guide (Innokenty Smoktunovsky).

The second aspect that took away from the experience was how heavy-handed the allegory was, with the clear message of perseverance, courage, and sacrifice for the greater good of the Fatherland. This was a story that needed gritty realism in every respect; we get it from the natural elements, but not always with the people, which was unfortunate. Had it been otherwise, this would have been a masterpiece.

Saw this at Tribeca Film Festival in Spring 2007, and was absolutely floored. I walked out of the theater afterword amazed at what I'd seen and thrilled that such an amazing film existed and had been maintained by a tiny number of appreciators in such excellent quality for so long.

The story is not the strong point of the movie. Rather, as with Terence Malick films, the story is just a starting point for the film, which is another beast entirely. What shines and carries the film from scene to scene is the cinematography. I didn't know if this was happened elsewhere at the time, but I didn't expect to see hand-held camera work in a 1959 Russian film, let alone the kind of early spinning, impossibly-filmed shot that appears early in the film. Later, there is a sequence that makes me long to know how they created the opportunity to film in such conditions.

If you've read this far, you must track down this movie. My understanding is that Francis Coppola has a California archive maintain the only copy in the Americas, and that it's usually shown just one a year.

Loss, purpose, and redemption, all in this harrowing adventure and visual tour-de-force by usual suspects Kalatozov/ Urusevsky.

An expedition of diamond hunters is dropped in the Siberian plateau with the mission of discovering a rumoured diamond vein. In the course of the movie diamonds acquire a further symbolic aspect as the purpose in life. As the expedition is befallen by a raging fire and forced to make a hazardous escape through burning logs, saving the map which points to the location of the much sought-after diamonds becomes a struggle to preserve purpose and meaning in a world that defies it. As the surviving members of the expedition stagger through the charred landscape, amidst billows of smoke and torrents of rain, nothing there to answer their pleas and curses but the echo of their voices, the world seems indifferent to their plight.

The star of the movie however is Urusevsky's cinematography. Kalatozov fails to harness his tremendous visual talent as he did in THE CRANES ARE FLYING, certain scenes flailing for attention but lacking the dramatic pull to justify them, but still someone who likes movies for their pictorial quality, for the endless possibilities of capturing images with a photographic lens and moving inside a thridimensional canvas; such a person will be left in awe and admiration of what Urusevsky achieves. His rapid tracking shots through branches of trees, as though the nature conspires to ensnare the protagonists, the amazing clarity of the closeups, the maize of hand-held shots thrusting the viewer right there in the middle of the action, the beautiful dutch angles transforming the geography of the landscape into something that can only exist for and by the camera.

Although the plot has its heart in the right place, much like its predecessor, it suffers from being too overwrought and from lapsing into moments of melodrama. Plot threads that are emphasized early on, like Sergei's unrequisite love and the growing tension with Tanya, are never really resolved and come to a screeching halt when the fire erupts. Traditional Soviet values, like the leader's dream of a Diamond City and the portrayal of civilization as a collective good, don't chime with my sensibilities. The score is often jarring and obtrusive but that's 50's cinema for you.

Overall this is a visually marvellous film aimed at the cinephiles who can appreciate such things.

Having just directed the WWII-themed masterpiece "The Cranes Are Flying", Mikhail Kalatozov directed "Neotpravlennoye pismo" ("Letter Never Sent" in English), a look at the will to survive in desperate circumstances. A group of geologists collecting diamonds in Siberia have to fend for themselves when a forest fire cuts them off from their supplies. Their cooperation was probably meant to reflect Soviet values.

I interpreted the final few minutes of the movie as a reflection of the man's desperation (he wanted there to be something). But however you interpret it, this has to be one of the most intense movies that I've seen. And I highly recommend it.

In Mikhail Kalatozov's Letter Never Sent, four geologists are searching for diamonds in the wilderness of Siberia. Three men, one woman. Andrei and Tanya are in love. Sergei is in love with Tanya. Sergei is a strong man who had been on such expeditions but had returned with no luck. He is jealous of the nerdy Andrei's and the beautiful Tanya's relationship but never cares to hide that feeling. Sabinine (The Leader of the expedition) often spends his free time writing letters, which he will never send, to the woman he once loved. This is how the film begins: By presenting a set of characters, each having different perspectives but are present in the wild forests of Siberia for one reason. With the hope of serving their country, they are present there hunting for a diamond vein. It's no surprise that the diamond deposit is discovered in the film after days of hard work. Previous expeditions had failed but this one expedition proved that there indeed was a diamond deposit in Siberia. Soon, the four geologists, filled with zeal and satisfaction, find themselves engulfed by a huge forest fire and completely cut of from the civilized world. Will they survive?

Before the opening credits, the film pays tribute to the people of the Soviet Union who have given their lives for the benefit of the country, whether it be astronauts seeking answers for the mysteries of space or geologists going in to the wilderness hunting for diamonds. Throughout the entire film, we see the characters suffering in the piercing cold and bleak atmosphere of Siberia. Their goal at this point is to safely deliver the map, on which the whereabouts of the diamond deposit is marked, to Moscow. We see sacrifice. We witness loss. We witness alienation, hunger, despair. This is where I realized that similar to numerous Soviet films, Letter Never Sent contains shards of Propaganda. Adventure? Nope. I look at this one as a miserable survival film filled with some unnecessary moments of melodrama, patriotism and hyperactivity. The fact is that I don't mind patriotism and propaganda. But in this case it's overdone. I just didn't care for any of the characters. Not even the gorgeous Tatiana Somailova whose performance in the 1957 Soviet Classic The Cranes are Flying (Also directed by Mikhail Kalatozov) was spellbinding. It was because of this film that I was intrigued to check out Letter Never Sent.

Now the big question: What relation does the film and it's title have? As stated earlier, Sabinine wrote letters to a woman he loved from his past. He wrote them, feeling nostalgic, without the intention of sending them (Of course, the team is already in the middle of nowhere). This relation is explained further in the final moments of the film but it's significance is again directed more towards patriotism, in my opinion. Another disappointing aspect.

Unlike the ingenious masterpiece The Cranes are Flying, this film lacks true emotions. I went in with high hopes of seeing another Soviet masterpiece but eventually I was left disappointed. Albeit this film failed to emotionally engross me, Sergei Urusevsky's miraculous cinematography makes the film worth watching. Urusevsky and Kalatozov have collaborated in multiple films and their most well known work is of course The Cranes are Flying, where the film used astonishing camera- work. Though I believe Letter Never Sent takes it to a whole new level by composing unbelievable images. The camera work is well ahead of it's time. It looked like that the camera glided through the wild fire and the horrible blizzards very smoothly. The technical artistry of this film deserves a standing ovation and at times it completely overpowers the dissatisfying screenplay.

On the positive side, Letter Never Sent is one of the strongest proofs of how visually powerful cinema can be. If you ever tell me to compile a top 10 list of the most visually stunning films ever crafted, this one will gladly make it to the top 5. Mr. Urusevsky, you rock. (And I will highly recommend The Cranes are Flying in case you haven't seen it yet).

filmsmostbeautifulart.blogspot.in

This robust survival adventure follows a team of Soviet geologists stranded in the wilderness of Siberia after a forest fire severs their communication link with civilization. The opening dedication to Socialist heroes everywhere and the noble sacrifices made by each character carry the story dangerously close to propaganda, but the intensity of their ordeal (through smoke and fire, over snow and ice, across mountains and tundra) thankfully overwhelms the political simplicity of the script. Unfortunately, it also overwhelms the initial hints of tension between each of the four characters (three male, one female) after the struggle to survive becomes paramount. The sense of isolation and exposure is numbing; the film was directed with a strong sense of visual drama (including more than one knockout montage), showing everything an audience would ever want to know about being lost in Siberia.

A parable intended to glorify self-sacrifice in the cause of building the earthly paradise promised by Communism. The geologist hero has proved by theory that immense diamond reserves must lie under a region of barren wilderness - where no trace of the minerals have ever actually been seen. The spectacular hardships he and his companions undergo are supposed to secure … well, more toil and hardship - but then, in some distant future which no one now living will see, the people will be prosperous and happy.

The film conceives happiness and prosperity to be one and the same, the simple working out of a material process, and applies the visual rhetoric of sacred art to materialism. Quite effectively applies it: the explorers are Soviet "New Men" (and one woman), and they bubble with enthusiasm for the Radiant Future; while the landscapes are gorgeously stark, a suitable backdrop for sainthood. (The manly tracker who guides the group is so avid for inhospitable spaces he appears demonic even before the plot requires it.) But the striking look of the film and the thrilling dangers can barely conceal a vein of tawdry sentimentality. It will seem convincing to those who are predisposed to be convinced.

Welcome to Siberia, circa 1959 (in perfectly restored, glorious Black and White).

Although this story revolves around four 'pioneers' dropped into a vast wilderness to search for a rumored vein of diamonds (aka 'the Diamond Pipe'), the real star of the movie is cinematographer Sergei Urusevsky ("Soy Cuba," "The Cranes Are Flying").

Urusevsky is master of composition, dolly shots, and hand-held photography (when necessary). The way he frames his close-ups of the actors practically allows the audience to see into their souls.

Of course, it helps that he's shooting a top-notch Russian cast, including actress Tatyana Samojlova ("The Cranes Are Flying") whose character 'Tanya' is desperate to survive the troubling events that befall the group. Tanya is also the lone female and commands the attentions of two men in the rock-sampling group (though one is unrequited).

In addition, the visual elements are underscored aurally by composer Nikolai Kryukov's ("The Forty-first") evocative score, although he does amp up the music a bit too much in a couple of scenes. Not unusual for the time period, so set your appreciation meter back to the 50's and you won't be as bothered as I was.

The title of the film refers to not one but two letters that figure into the plot. One is a long, personal letter that is referred to in voice-over from time to time throughout the film, while the other is a love letter thought to be hidden away until it accidentally comes to light.

The plot is very straightforward so I won't spoil any surprises by detailing it here, suffice to say that the main attractions of this film are the artistic cinematography, the strong cast, and the director's choice to foreshadow plot elements by overlaying fiery images over his hardcharging trekkers.

If you've never seen any films by director Mikhail Kalatozov ("The Red Tent," "Soy Cuba," "The Cranes Are Flying"), then this one is probably as accessible as any and with a new restoration to boot, practically a MUST-SEE.

The ending alone is worth the price of admission, so check it out festival goers.

Among a panoply of scintillating things about this film is Sergei Urusevsky's deft black-and-white cinematography, much of it hand-held. Urusevsky seems to understand semiotics deeply, and his shots are often protean, shifting angle or perspective during a take to wring extra emotional import from it. I found myself rewinding many sequences and rewatching because of how well Urusevky, arguably the greatest Soviet era lensman, can minimally change vantage or tilt and bring fresh meaning cascading from the actors.

"Letter Never Sent" has communistic political messages in it, but is sumptuously acted by a small cast with a good sense of ensemble. Heat and cold, fire and ice, land and water, remote wildness and safe civilization all exist here in dynamic tension. The version in digital circulation is lovingly restored. A must-watch, especially for admirers of other quintessential Russian filmmakers such as Tarkovsy.

The fate of the film otherwise, as difficult, can not be called. The film was nominated for the Palm d'Or of the Cannes Film Festival in 1960 and was scheduled to be shown on May 17th. However, literally on the eve of presentation the application for the film in the competition program of the film festival was withdrawn. Although, as we all know, all countries, all film companies and all directors, not to mention actors, are passionately interested in participating in international film festivals. Moreover, such prestigious as Cannes. There are two versions of the explanation of the reasons for such an emergency withdrawal of the application. According to the official, the director of the film, Mikhail Kalatozov, suddenly wanted to fix something in the film, so that by the premiere in the USSR, scheduled for June 27, the film would not have a single flaw. According to the second, unofficial version, the application was withdrawn by the leaders of the USSR State Committee for Cinematography, who suddenly realized that the film shows how the means for socialist industrialization (in the film - diamonds) are sought at the cost of human lives (in the film - of geologists). For me personally, the second version seems to be more plausible. And that's why. The film is brilliant! Filmed by director Kalatozov and cameraman Sergei Urusevsky, both are triumphants of the Cannes Film Festival in 1958 for the film "The Cranes Are Flying." Top actors of the then Soviet cinema play in the film: Innokenty Smoktunovsky, Yevgeny Urbansky and incomparable Tatyana Samoilova. The high class of the picture also underlines the fact that literally the next year the film was released on European screens, and a year later - on the screens of US cinemas. But I don't remember whether this film was shown in the USSR in the 1960s - 1970s. However, human memory is an unreliable tool. Therefore, I turned to Kinopoisk for information on the number of viewers who watched this film in its first year. No such information! About the films that were released on the screens in the same years, for example, "The Ballad of a Soldier," there is such data. About earlier films, for example, "The Cranes Are Flying" or "True Friends", etc., there is such information. And about the "Letter Never Sent" - no! What can it say? Either the film was taken off the screen immediately after the premiere, or released in such a limited number of copies that it cites data on the viewing of a Soviet film in the Soviet Union by the number of viewers smaller than, say, in France, to put it mildly, uncomfortable. This is why data is absent. And no more any nomination for any film festival. Although it would seem that the premiere took place, it means that the director eliminated all the flaws. Why not to nominate? Especially since Tatyana Samoilova, after "The Cranes Are Flying," was in world cinema a star of the first brightness. After the premiere of this film in New York, The New York Times responded - a rare case! - quite a benevolent review, however, without attribution. So, we can assume that this review reflects the opinion of the entire editorial board of the newspaper. Of course, a significant part of the review was dedicated to our great Actress Tatyana Samoilova. But the film itself was addressed very flattering epithets: "FOR sheer photographic pull and intensity, "The Letter That Was Never Sent" is unlike any other Russian film drama in many years, ...a truly rare movie, stark in content and setting, pretentious and obscure at times, but of a marvelous pictorial texture. See this unorthodox Russian movie, hold on (like the determined cast) and we guarantee it will get you." And therefore it is not at all surprising that Francis Ford Coppola in 1995 funded the restoration and re-rental of this painting in the United States. Perhaps this is due to the fact that of all countries, this film has the highest rating in the United States. Overall, 64% of IMDB and Kinopoisk users around the world gave this film a rating of 8 to 10. Based on the foregoing, the rating of the film according to the FilmGourmand's version is 7.826. And this low rating is due primarily to the fact that the Soviet leadership at one time prevented the participation of the film in any film festivals and narrowed the scope of the film to the maximum extent possible in cinemas. But, nevertheless, the film is included in the FilmGourmand's Golden Thousand with Rank 947.

Unless a ton of this went over my head, it felt like a surprisingly simple drama/adventure film set almost entirely outdoors. Several geologists go looking for diamonds in the Siberian wilderness. Ultimately, for a handful of reasons, things don't go as planned.

It was less Heart of Darkness and more survival-focused, which I guess took me off guard. Things play out a little predictably, with the only moments that end up surprising being scenes that abruptly jump forward in time to show things suddenly drastically different. The pacing and editing felt a little strange to me, and almost like they were trying to add complexity to a simple survival story with clearly defined, fairly straightforward characters.

The movie excels when it comes to visuals. A good deal of the time, the things that feel off when it comes to editing and writing don't matter. The camera work and shot composition are consistently spectacular, making this an amazing movie to look at. If anything sucks you in, it's how it looks (and I think the performances are quite good too; they probably help).

It's a flawed film which I don't think adds up to the director's previous film, the similarly great-looking The Cranes Are Flying (1957), but it's still solid. It holds up fairly decently in most areas, and truly excels when it comes to visuals, which feels like enough when it looks this good.

A quite ridiculous film about diamond hunters in Siberia by the extraordinary director/cinematographer team of "I Am Cuba" and "The Cranes Are Flying." Needless say, the camerawork in the bizarrely surreal and barren Siberian locations is UNBELIEVABLE (the continuous takes are longer than any other film in history except for "I Am Cuba") but the film itself is too directly tied to dramatic 'adventure story' conventions to transcend into pure poetry like "Cranes" and "Cuba." There is a spectacular scene shot with the main actors amidst a raging forest fire and another one shot during an ice-storm. Most definitely worth transferring to DVD (there isn't a true film fan that wouldn't be flabergasted by the cinematography) but not by the same ones (Hen's Tooth) who did such a mediocre job on the transfer of "I Am Cuba."

Lesser known film from Mikhail Kalatozov ("The cranes are flying" (1957) and "Soy Cuba" (1964)). Only since 2012 available on DVD.

The film is neither propaganda (such as "Soy Cuba") nor critical towards the Soviet regime (such as "The cranes are flying"). Especially in the forest fire scenes we can already see the movable camera, that would grant "Soy Cuba" much of its fame.

Situated in the vastness of Siberia the film has something in common with "Dersu Uzala" (1975, Akira Kurosawa). In "Dersu Uzala" mother nature gives and takes. In "Letter never sent" she is only hostile, as if protecting her mineral resources (diamonds).

The images of the bushfire are spectacular and they form a pivotal point in the movie. Before the fire, he story is about the relationships between the members of the expedition. During and after the fire it is the expedition against the forces of nature.

The film is based on the eponymous book by Valery Osipov. Four geologists are searching for diamonds in the wilderness of Siberia. After a long and tiresome journey they manage to find their luck and put the diamond mine on the map. The map must be delivered back to Moscow. But on the day of their departure a terrible forest fire wreaks havoc, and the geologists get trapped in the woods.

Professor Dina Iordanova calls the film "a remarkable depiction of perseverance in the face of extreme challenge, a tale of humankind's resolute dedication to the task of conquering the wild and overpowering the hostile forces of nature." This really is a beautiful film, both about struggle, but also very much quite artful. Russian cinema may not be very well known due to the Cold War, but what is known is probably best summed up in the work of Eisenstein. And that is selling Russia short. Even adding Tarkovsky would be selling it short. Throw this in (alongside "Cranes are Flying" and "I Am Cuba") and you have a well-rounded picture.

Russian geologists find diamonds in Siberia but are left stranded in the wilderness.

The story seemed to me very slight and the pacing is slow, but it's well-acted and the black and white images are miraculously good, seemingly composed of liquid silver. The Soviet cinematography around this time was the best in the world perhaps ever, so see it if you are ever in the mood for some of that.