Director: Sergei Eisenstein
Country: Soviet Union
Year: 1938

BACKGROUND

By the late 1920′s, Sergei Eisenstein had directed three acclaimed films: Strike, Battleship Potemkin, and October. In 1929, however, he found himself on Stalin’s shit list when censors rejected his agrarian reform film, The General Line. Besides his crazy agrarian reform ideas, the state-run film industry also objected to Eisenstein’s use of non-standard camera angles, montage sequences, and other tell-tale signs of his lack of commitment to Mother Russia. Eisenstein fled the Soviet Union and traveled abroad for several years, but was eventually allowed to return, as long as he promised to make more “Russia is awesome”-type movies, which he readily agreed to do.

Which brings us to 1938′s Alexander Nevsky. Under orders to produce a suitably pro-Soviet film, Eisenstein searched the history books and came across a perfect subject in the 13th century: Prince Aleksandr Yaroslavich Nevskij, AKA Alexander Nevsky, a handsome god among men, brilliant statesman and military strategist, who – wait for it – soundly defeated the invading German army (at the “Battle of the Ice” – look it up). That was key, because, back in the 20th century, the Soviet Union was again being threatened by the Teutonic Hordes, and Stalin wanted to rouse the populace into support for the impending bloodbath.

With this film, Eisenstein followed orders and curtailed most of his fruity, traitorous, art-film tendencies, and produced his most linear, direct film. Sergei “Peter and the Wolf” Prokofiev composed the score, collaborating closely with Eisenstein. Stalin was shown an early rough cut of the film, loved it, presented everyone involved with a medal, and ordered that Alexander Nevsky be printed and distributed immediately. Unfortunately, the soundtrack had not been finished, and most existing versions of the film (including, sadly, the Janus/Criterion release) include several scenes where the soundtrack simply drops out or clumsily switches to a different recording of the same music.

Alexander Nevsky was a huge success, right up until Stalin decided that it might be a better idea to sign a treaty with Hitler, and subsequently banned the film for its now-inappropriate anti-German saber-rattling. In 1941, however, when Germany broke the treaty and invaded Russia, Stalin ordered the film un-banned and decreed that it was now required viewing for every Soviet citizen, under penalty of death. Okay, not really, but it was un-banned and screened in every Soviet theater.

SYNOPSIS

In “THE 13TH CENTURY,” the opening titles tell us, “RUSSIA’S VAST AND RICH LANDS BECKONED AN INVADER…” Several invaders, as it turns out. As the film begins, our hero, Alexander Nevsky, is biding his time in Peryaslavl, a small fishing village. Fresh from a victory over the cruel and demonic Swedes (“We broke their ships into matchsticks!”), Nevsky (and, by extension, Russia) is now faced with two new invading armies: The Mongolian “Golden Horde” from the East, and the German Teutonic Lords from the West (I think).

Over in the “FREE CITY OF NOVGOROD,” we meet veterans Vasily and Gavrilo, who – judging strictly by what I learned in this film – were kind of the Abbott and Costello of 13th century Russia. Tired of war, these bumpkins are now looking forward to a relaxing roll in the hay with Olga, the hot Novgorod milkmaid (or something). Their bumbling pursuit of Olga is cut short when a bandaged stranger limps into town. “The Germans are advancing toward you!” he warns. “They are like wild beasts!” The townspeople are understandably agitated at this news, but local merchants and politicians dismiss the ranting of Crazy Bandaged Guy: “Don’t confuse these people! We have a treaty with Germany!” CBG responds with a well-reasoned argument that convinces many: “You can’t make a treaty with Germans! They are lying dogs!” After some spirited discussion, the townspeople decide to send for the only man with a proven track record of defeating blonde-haired armies: Alexander Nevsky.

Over in Pskov, the flaxen-haired Germans are – just as Crazy Bandaged Guy warned – raping the women and tossing crying babies into a flaming pit. Even today, seven decades after the film was first screened, this scene made me gasp aloud. “Whoever does not bow to Rome shall be put to death!” proclaim the Teutonic Lords, from beneath their monstrous and absurd iron helmets. A Catholic bishop accompanies the soldiers, his pope-ish hat festooned with swastikas. Yes, really.

Back in Peryaslavl, our hero learns of the despicable deeds of the Germans and vows revenge. “We must come to the defense of our homeland!” shouts a villager. “Defense?” sneers Nevsky, “I don’t know how to ‘defend’! We shall smite them with all our power!” Which segues nicely into a montage of the Russian peasants gathering to make war, set to a song which is repeated several times throughout the film:

Arise you Russian people, in a just battle to the death!
No foe will trample over Russia
No foreign army will plunder it
No enemy will find its routes
Or trample its fields!

Nevsky gathers the peasants to Novgorod, and they prepare to defend Mother Russia against the lying German dogs. The Novgorod blacksmith pledges to make a thousand shields, a thousand axes, and an unspecified number of Kevlar vests. As the men march off to certain death, Olga stays behind, but brave Vasilisa – the other Novgorod hottie – dons chain mail and joins the soldiers. “Even the small bird has a heart!” proclaims the blacksmith, who has a bizarre homily for every occasion.

The soldiers march into the frozen woods. While they await the coming battle, the blacksmith amuses them with a joke about a rabbit raping a fox, which I think was some sort of military metaphor. As the Germans approach, the Russian soldiers urge Nevsky to retreat across the river, so that they can fight on their own land. “One who won’t fight on enemy soil has no need of his own! I shall not let these dogs tread on the soil of Russia!” proclaims Alexander, bearded chin jutting magnificently into the moonlit sky.

Then follows the historic and lengthy “Battle on the Ice” sequence. The “German Wedge” attacks, and Nevsky’s men swoop in from both sides. The hacking and grimacing goes on for a while, but eventually the Russians prevail, and the Germans sink beneath the ice, weighed down by their ridiculous armor. Over lingering shots of the battlefield devastation, we hear a new song:

Some lie, torn with swords
Their blood pouring out on Mother Russia
I kiss your sightless eyes
And caress your cold forehead
As to the daring hero who survived the fight,
To him I shall be a loyal wife…

WHAT I LIKED

The score (except for the bizarre Carl Stalling-esque interludes during a couple of battle scenes played at Keystone Kops speed) is magnificent. The actors – though theatrical – are solid and even compelling (the guy who plays Nevsky is particularly magnetic). The sets, costumes, and special effects are astounding, given the date of the film’s release. The cinematography is suitably heroic/romantic; every shot looks like something from a Maxfield Parrish painting (but, you know, without the color).

WHAT I DIDN’T LIKE SO MUCH

While Alexander Nevsky is certainly a technical triumph, let’s call a spade a spade: It’s straight-up, unapologetic, xenophobic propaganda. This is not a film of nuance or ambiguity; the bad guys are diabolical, leering, sadistic boogeymen, while Alexander Nevsky is so handsome, brave, honest and morally unimpeachable that he could just as easily be named Jesus. And when you realize that Nevsky is intended as a stand-in for Stalin, the whole enterprise is hard to take seriously.

Also, the screen is square. I know, I know: That was the accepted aspect ratio in 1938. Still, for a historical epic like this, it feels cramped (to me).

SHOULD YOU SEE IT?

If you are interested in film history in general, and/or Russian film, if you aren’t put off by subtitles, if you can tolerate this sort of theatrical acting and posturing, and if you can overlook (or smirk at) the Stalinist brown-nosing: Yes, you should see it. Alexander Nevsky is an amazing technical achievement and a rousing pre-300 “We must repel the invaders!” war film. It is also surprisingly engaging and occasionally very funny, if somewhat culturally alien and distancing.

Next: Ashes and Diamonds