Hard to Be a God

Rumata (Leonid Yarmolnik) is a scientist from Earth based on the planet Arkanar which has refused to develop beyond an equivalent middle age state. Here, people live squalid lives covered in blood, snot, excrement and any hint of intelligence from anyone results in immediate execution. Runata has been in Arkanar for years and is viewed as a form of God. He in turn wants to move things forward, but is forbidden by his Earth bosses from doing this.

This is an extraordinary folly of a film, notable for little in the way of a plot other than revolution begats revolution and should be viewed, if you have the patience and courage to check this out, as a sensory and mostly visual experience which is where the interest lies. The sets, sounds and particularly the visuals are quite extraordinary with tunnels of mud, death and excrement seemingly stretching on forever and full of decaying people barely existing in their squalor. A very hard watch then, but unique to be sure.

I almost never post a review of a film here on IMDb unless I've watched the entire thing. Upfront disclaimer about this review of "Hard to Be a God": I did not finish the movie. In fact, I only watched about a third of this movie. So feel free to stop reading now and move one, or to read my review and discount it. I forgive you.

Now, why am I posting a review about a three-hour film of which I only watched about an hour? 1.) Because an hour is all I'm ever going to be able to watch of this film, so it's either post about it now or never; 2.) I have a feeling based on what I saw and what I've read about the film that watching the other two hours wouldn't much change my opinion, as what you see is pretty much what you get for the entire running time; and 3.) what I did see was compelling enough to make me want to share my opinion about it.

"Hard to Be a God" is difficult to describe so I won't even try. It is astounding in its visual detail and its authenticity in recreating the period look of the Middle Ages in all its scatological unpleasantness. Framed against this backdrop is a cacophony of human activity, swarms of people wandering on and off screen, sometimes interacting with the camera, muttering, shouting, barfing, pooping, peeing, spitting, farting, you name it. It's disgusting, intentionally so, and while I won't go so far as to say it's all pointless, it certainly feels that way. Or rather, the discomfort in watching humanity at its grossest isn't worth sticking with the thing long enough to find out what its point might be.

But that said, it did make an indelible impression on me and kept me thinking about it. I'll leave it to people smarter or more patient (or both) than me to watch the whole thing and decide whether or not it deserves the idolatrous praise critics have heaped upon it. But having watched only the bit of it I did, I can say it's certainly SOMETHING.

The narrator explains to us that scientists have traveled to Arkanar, a planet still stuck in the middle ages. The society is regressing and the inhabitants have begun to murder all the intelligentsia, but the scientists are told not to intervene. Sort of like the Prime Directive. After the opening remarks, and aside from a few quips, we move permanently out of the realm of science fiction and into the world that has been created for us as we follow Don Rumata, a scientist disguised as a nobleman, as he wades through this world. And what a world it is. Mud, feces, grease, bile, and blood, are caked on to absolutely everything. Probably one of the greatest works of set design ever. With the roaming camera, it's as if the audience is a part of this diseased world, hopelessly regressing into its vile heart.

Unfortunately, there's a disappointing amount incoherence to the whole narrative. Most scenes would be over before you could piece together what had happened, and then only vaguely at that. The vision, however, of the world that Aleksei German has imagined, is totally unique and inimitable.

From the very beginning we're greeted with scenes both stark and beautiful in the squalor they capture. We just as quickly get exposition that sets up the film, and it is imparted so rapidly and casually in the voiceover narration that if one isn't paying attention, it will be missed entirely. In this same minute span of time we see actors look at the camera, or are treated to obvious and haphazard camerawork, which is either deliberate and inscrutably brilliant, or incidental and horridly amateurish. Given director Aleksei German's career spanning several decades, I'm inclined to think it's more the former than the latter, but beauty is in the eye of the beholder. How much one is able to engage with 'Hard to be a god' is going to depend on willingness in light of these considerations, yet it also gets even more niche from there.

This much is certain: German approached this project as an art film, with the most substantial emphasis by far on visuals. The picture is entirely in black and white, and was accordingly filmed gradually over the course of several years - presumably with intent not just to bring the vision to fruition, but to realize it as completely as possible. Filming locations, set design and decoration, costume design, makeup, effects, and props are given the greatest of attention, and significant detail goes into everything we see on our screen. At nearly all turns the imagery before us is intense and arresting, with some fine shots and scenes arranged. Pervasive use of fog, mist, or rain effects, or lighting, serves both to provide atmosphere and in some instances to guide scene changes. 'Hard to be a god' is first and foremost a feast for the eyes.

At the same time - to nearly the same extent, this is rather questionable. There is a sense of narrative, but it develops very slowly, with a great air of nonchalance and even indifference to any particular bearing. The blunt, unsubtle camerawork and interaction of characters with the camera, accentuated from the very beginning, are pervasive throughout the film, with no clear purpose except for that it's German's enigmatic intent. There are countless instances of something presented to us on-screen that has no apparent function, meaning, or goal except as a piece of scenery, adding to the setting: lines of dialogue, nudity, acts of cruelty, background characters, even some interactions between dominant characters. The filth, wretchedness, and violence of the scenario is inescapable, impressed upon us in every passing moment - but what's it all for? A somewhat listless treatise on the universality and inevitability of ignorance, brutality, and disorder? 'Hard to be a god' is hardly the only film to examine these ideas. Others have done so with less artistry or eye-catching spectacle - but also with less messiness.

I don't dislike this movie, but I also don't entirely know what to make of it. Clearly it has found favor with many other people, and made an impact; I am glad for them, and congratulate them. Painstaking work went into making this, and it should be celebrated for that reason, and for its artfulness. I just wish there were more definition and structure to 'Hard to be a god' than what we get.

Strongly recommended for persevering viewers who are receptive to material that's difficult to parse. Less recommended for anyone who is squeamish, objects to strong violence, or wants a snappy, easily digestible flick to entertain.

I've never written a review here, even though I'm more than dozen years a user. And most likely will not write one ever again. But forgive me for boring you with the personal introduction, it's just coming out to show you how much for me is this piece of filmmaking worth writing at least a few words. And I can only hope it will be for someone else too.

The plot is quite clear: a man out of time. In every possible sense. A team of experts, including explorer/militant/scientist/philosopher/royalty? called Don Rumata, is set on a distant planet whose civilization's grey Purgatory of reality is similar to Earth's grim and barbaric Middle Ages. His mission: to protect the very few progressive minds he can get. Thing is, he can't show his advantages and in no case can he interfere killing, therefore allowing all natural history course of this parallel society. Like a spectator who can only touch on the surface and hurt inside, bright and impotent. It's not easy being neo-God.

This simple yet great story is what makes the book written in the '60s by Boris and Arkady Strugatsky ("Roadside Picnic" which became "Stalker") a great one too. But what takes all this to a new-wave level of greatness is Aleksei German's lifelong desire to film it and his magnum final result of a vision where you are almost the main protagonist, you breathe and think and feel and will probably bleed right beside him. A result which German died just before seeing officially finished and which is now in the form of three hours that took fifteen years in the making.

Three Russian hours from 21st century of black-and-white world of past, future, fiction, reality, chaos, mud, blood, vom*t, p*ss and sh*t and yet there is love and even music to be found in the filth of German's Inferno. Where I saw it at the Sofia International Film Festival, I witnessed walkouts, boos, applauses, tears of despair or joy. But what I experienced thoroughly was me sitting on the floor in the overcrowded theater in complete petrification, silent, a little confused and in awe. Confused by how much German added to the story, the ambiguity, the layers of detail and questions in depth he raised. And in awe of how was this shot, structurally and technically speaking. Even for a film student like me it raised only questions. To not spoil anything, I feel I should only say you have to watch it completely open-minded and forget about the book (which still must be read beforehand) or visual feasts such as, for example, "Birdman" and all the overpraising it got. Don't get me wrong about Chivo Lubezki who I adore, but this is a cinematic achievement way ahead even of its prolific time. Because by the end of all the daze and decay, you are completely unaware whether it's Don Rumata, you or the world around that is transformed. But into what? It's up to you to find. Just drain yo' self:)

It was released more than a year ago at festivals, theatrically and on the internet, but is yet due to receive the grand recognition it deserves. My take is this can happen in five, fifteen, a hundred years from now or maybe never: something I can not and will not believe. No one can now for sure, but anyone could easily sense that as far as narrative cinema goes, HARD TO BE A GOD is most definitely the timeless film of our present. You can thank the Germans (father and son) or the Strugatsky brothers; I choose to thank humanity.