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Russian filmmaker Alexander Sokurov is an art film
heavyweight lauded by critics for daring to bore them.
In most cases, he succeeds. His style
is one of stately paced, painterly imagery. That
translates as, pretty to look at, maddeningly slow. More concerned with mood than narrative, Sokurovs
movies consist of long takes of photographic impressionism.
Several of his films are characterized by an interest in history and historical
figures. Moloch features Adolf Hitler and
Eva Braun as protagonists, and Taurus looks at the Lenins final days. Russian
Ark fits Sokurov to a tee. The entire movie takes place in St. Petersburgs State
Hermitage Museum and the gimmick this time is that all of its 96-minutes is shot in one
single take. Russian Ark could be exhibit A for Manny Farbers white elephant
art, that is, movies that try too hard to be masterpieces.
Ostensibly a tour of the museum as well as through tidbits of Russian
history, Russian Ark features a French diplomat, the Marquise de Custine (Sergei
Dreiden), accompanying an offscreen character (voiced by Sokurov) through the museum.
Throughout, the audience shares this unnamed characters point of view embodied by
the camera. Going from room to room, they
also leap through time, observing 18th century aristocrats engaging with an
opera or attending affairs of state or passing present-day museum-goers perusing the works
of Rubens and Van Dyck. They discuss Peter the Great, Italian influence on Russian art,
and El Greco. Occasionally the Marquise stops to smell the paintings and talk with bemused
patrons. It all ends at a huge, elaborate ball
where hundreds of ornately dressed aristocrats waltz to the music of a great orchestra.
With the movie composed of a single shot, principle photography may
have required a single day, but postproduction becomes a nightmare. Russian Ark required months of rehearsals
to get the logistics and timing just right for the 867-member cast. Shooting on high definition digital video, Sokurov
circumvents the limitation of 10-minute film magazines; on the other hand, HD DV has its
shortcomings. Russian Ark is often dimly lit, and while director of photography
Tilman Büttner escapes a lot of video snow and retains good clarity and decent
resolution, the image is not nearly as sharp as on film and the colors are noticeably
muted. Some of the lighting is also poor as light bouncing off the canvas often blinds the
viewer to the paintings details. Statues
like Antonio Canovas The Three Graces thus fare better than the oils in
gaining appreciation.
Insofar as the tour aspect is concerned, the constant mumbling between
the Marquise and the viewers surrogate is irritating and distracting. The Marquise is constantly engaged in heavy
breathing and gasps of awe, while the offscreen visitor continually questions where he is,
when he is, who are the people before them, and so on.
Watching Russian Ark may be like going to the museum except the two
fey tour guides lack any real insight. It also
plods with a tediousness associated with entering the fourth hour at a museum when feet
are sore and eyes are ready for the outdoor sun. The
historical set pieces have the flavor of attending a costume party lacking any frivolity. Attempts at whimsy feel either so calculated as to
be lifeless or just plain odd as when two men blow air at each other. Two thirds of the way in, the Marquise mutters,
A terrible boredom will set in, which is true except his description is thirty
minutes off the mark.
- George Wu