The early works of Sergei Eisenstein such as The Battleship Potemkin (1925) and October:
Ten Days that Shook the World (1928) were indisputably testaments of the visual
power of montage, crowd scenes and camera angles on a viewer that are, even
almost a century later, considered as masterpieces of cinema. In 1987, when Brian
De Palma openly recreated the Odessa steps sequence from The Battleship Potemkin
in his Hollywood film The Untouchables
for his Union Station sequence, few realized that de Palma was paying homage to
Eisenstein. But Eisenstein’s early works were obvious Communist propaganda
films as well. In 1946, Eisenstein made an even more seminal work Ivan the Terrible, Part II: The Boyar’s
Plot that was a veiled criticism of his own patron, the communist dictator
Stalin. Stalin, who had loved the nationalist Ivan the Terrible, Part I, banned Part II and destroyed most of the footage of the partly shot Part III. Both Stalin and Eisenstein had died by 1958, when Khrushchev’s Soviet
Union released the masterpiece Ivan the
Terrible, Part II: The Boyar’s Plot for the world to admire.
What makes Ivan the
Terrible, Part II: The Boyar’s Plot different from his earlier films? Unlike
the earlier films of Eisenstein, there were two departures. Ivan
the Terrible, Part II: The Boyar’s Plot was the first work of the director where
propaganda took a back seat—even Ivan
the Terrible, Part I, can be considered
as an essentially nationalist propaganda film. Secondly, this work
presents Eisenstein’s capability to make a thought provoking film on the psyche
of the lead character and why he behaves in the manner he does. This is a film that is not merely presenting
history but presents Eisenstein’s view of the mind and temperament of the
monarch. It is essential to note that the script/screenplay was Eisenstein’s
own and he assumed he was famous enough within the Soviet Union to present his
views on Stalin in a veiled manner in this film. The intellectual film
theoretician Eisenstein who had once written “The hieroglyphic language of the cinema is capable of expressing any
concept, any idea of class, any political or tactical slogan, without recourse
to the help of a rather suspect dramatic or psychological past,” does
indeed take the help of the “dramatic or
psychological past” in Part II.
The lonely Tsar of Part II |
A crucial part of Part
II deals with a powerful man Tsar Ivan (Nikolai Cherkasov) who begs for
friendship. As the film opens, the viewer is reminded of what was already
disclosed in Part I—one of his two
close friends Prince Kurbsky (Mikhail Nazvanov), a secret admirer of the Tsar’s
Queen Anastasia, has turned traitor and is plotting against the Tsar with the
Polish King. The Tsar’s only other friend Fyodor Kolychev, now Archbishop
Philip, who with Kurbsky has accompanied him on his coronation, agrees to
remain close to him on condition that he could defend the Boyars that Tsar is
accusing of crimes against the state.
Eisenstein shows the Tsar crawling and tugging Philip’s robe, pleading
for his friendship he had enjoyed in the past. The only other true friend of
the Tsar who remained loyal--his Queen--has been murdered by the Tsar’s aunt in
Part I.
The Tsar is a lonely man indeed.
The young orphaned Tsar is made to wear royal robes and crown but has no elders to guide him |
Young Ivan on the throne being manipulatedby Boyar elders (the painting of Mary is large in the background) |
Eisenstein goes even further to take recourse to the
psychological past of the Tsar by showing his childhood in Part II. The visual genius takes pains to show the young Tsar
sitting on the throne when his legs have grown to touch the floor and the
Boyars are selling off his kingdom’s land to foreign powers under his seal
without asking his approval. The boy Tsar (Erik Pyryev) who has grown up
without his father and has seen his mother poisoned to death, takes his first important
decision in life by asking his guards to arrest the elderly Boyar lord who
mocks him and lies down on his dead mother’s bed laughing.
Kabuki theatre influence in the colour segment as the plot to kill the Tsar is unraveled (yellow in foreground, red in the background) |
Faces watching the play--strength of Eisenstein of of the silent era |
The Tsar learns of the plot to kill him while sitting on his throne from his own simpleton cousin |
Considering that all the six preceding films of Eisenstein
was in black and white, Part II is
the first and only work that the director uses colour and that too for an
important sequence. Two colours dominate the two reels of the film: red and
blue. Yellow is used for the kabuki-like theatre sequence (Eisenstein knew
Japanese language and wrote about what termed as “Theatre of Attractions” after
he became a fan of kabuki theatre form.). The film reverts to black and white
when the crucial part reveals the plot and the plotters. One needs to recall that the film was made in
1946 when colour films were not common—Hollywood’s first Eastman colour films
came out in 1948. It is another matter that the banned film was released only
in 1958, 12 years after it was made.
Eisenstein’s sound films Alexander Nevsky (1938) and Ivan the Terrible, Part I and Part II, saw his collaboration with
the famous Russian composer Sergei Prokofiev. Many of us are in awe of Stanley
Kubrick’s 2001-A Space Odyssey
(1968) which uses Richard Strauss’ music from his composition Also Sprach Zarathustra in the sequences
when the apes throw the bones up in the air and stone monoliths appear. Compare
that with Eisenstein’s choice of music towards the ends of both Ivan the Terrible, Part I and Part II and one will note a striking
resemblance. All three films are asserting new found power. Though the musical
pieces are different and the composers are different, the effect is almost
identical. It is well documented that
Stanley Kubrick was influenced by the works of Eisenstein, though this
particular connection on the use of music reminiscent of Ivan the Terrible, Part I and
Part II seems to have eluded critics.
Shadows indicating politics superceding religion (trinity of candles): Eisenstein's architectural knowledge in evidence |
Now Eisenstein had studied architecture
and could have ended up in that profession.
And as a filmmaker, his set designs in Ivan the Terrible, Part I and
Part II are ascribed to Iosif Shpinel (credited as Production Designer and Art Director Isaak
Shpinel). Shpinel’s contribution to the
films is just awesome and probably ought to be acknowledged as the finest in
the history of cinema in those depatments. Evidently Eisenstein’s architectural background helped
him to pick up Shpinel. Of course, he
needed the brilliant Eduard Tisse’s camera to accentuate the indoor details so skilfully
as the exteriors.
Religion plays a major role in
most Russian/Soviet films over time as the Russian Orthodox Church influenced
its history and most Russians continued to be religious even during the peak of
Communism. Now Eisenstein was Jewish, not Christian. Apart from the coronation
sequence in Part I, Part II has one major
church sequence. A play relating to a tale from the Old Testament of the Bible dealing
with King Nebuchadnezzar (634-562 BCE) is staged within the church.
It is a significant choice of a tale by Eisenstein as he is a Jew—as
Jews believe in the Old Testament and not the New. It’s a tale of the King
commanding all to bow down before an idol he has created and three religious
officials refusing to comply. Those three are cast into a furnace but survive
causing the King to change his religious beliefs for himself and his nation.
According to ancient texts other than the Old Testament, the King had a bout of
insanity at the height of his power in ancient Babylon and recovered. What
better tale to pick up for subtly criticizing Stalin!
This part of the film helps
Eisenstein in two distinct ways to further his commentary. Stalin is being
equated with the historical King Nebuchadnezzar. However, Eisenstein takes
umbrage in the fact that it is the wicked Boyars and the custodians of the
Church influenced by the Boyars that are putting up the religious play in the church.
So Mr Stalin don’t blame Mr Eisenstein, blame the Church—seems to be the escapist
undertone of the film. But we know the script was Eisenstein’s. The formidable
enemy of the Soviet Russia was the powerful Russian Orthodox Church which
Stalin could never subjugate totally. The players in the play openly term King
Nebuchadnezzar as “an unlawful king, ..a
satanic king...a sacrilegious despot..” and that the “earthly ruler will be humbled by the heavenly king.”
But wait, the best stroke of
Eisenstein is a young kid in the church watching the play, who shouts out innocently,
“Is that the terrible heathen king?” pointing
at the Tsar, after the Tsar and Archbishop Philip have a war of words within
the church. Cineastes will recall a similar use of a child and its innocent
behaviour in the church to criticize the relationship between the Church and the
State in Russia in the recent Andrei Zvyaginstev 2014 film Leviathan’s end.
Glee of a murderess: Efrosinia (Serafima Birman) as Eisenstein returns to black and white |
Eisenstein’s film compares two
mothers and their love for their sons. Early in Part II, the Tsar recalls the love of his mother towards him as she
slowly dies poisoned by his foes. He
treats her bed as a sacred spot and arrests a boyar who defiles it years after
she has died. In contrast, is the love of the Tsar’s aunt Efrosinia (Serafima Birman,
who plays arguably cinema’s most evil female character) and her love for her feeble-minded
son and the Tsar’s cousin Vladimir Andreyevich Staristsky. One is a motherless
child missing his mother, the other a mother dominated child in a man’s body.
Soviet film director Mikhail Romm cross-dresses as England's Queen Elizabeth I in Eisenstein's Part III's surviving footage |
And one can glimpse Eisenstein’s
true mettle in the few minutes of Part
III’s footage that survived Stalin’s wrath. Eisenstein dressed up his
contemporary Soviet director Mikhail Romm as Queen Elizabeth I of England. What
a cross dressing role! What a film Part
III could have been!
P.S. Ivan the Terrible, Part II, is
one of the author’s top 100 films. The Indian TV serial Chakravartin Ashoka Samarat (2015) (script-writer Ashok Banker) dealing
with the rise of the historical Emperor Ashoka (269-239 BCE) has several
similarities to Eisenstein’s tale. Zvyagintsev’s Leviathan (2014) has been reviewed
on this blog earlier.