The End of St. Petersburg

ja wiem ,ze montazowo te filmy sa cudowne , ale tutaj poziom przeklamania zgodnosci historycznej i skali rewolucji pazdziernikowej jest juz razacy

ja wiem ,ze montazowo te filmy sa cudowne , ale tutaj poziom przeklamania zgodnosci historycznej i skali rewolucji pazdziernikowej jest juz razacy

bon bah, y’a beaucoup de très bonnes idées notamment dans la photographie et le montage mais pitié la mise en scène c’est incompréhensible parfois alors que déjà que c’est une des choses les plus importantes alors quand y’a même pas de paroles ça l’est encore plus. Ca prouve encore une fois que le vrai problème c’est le capitalisme

bon bah, y’a beaucoup de très bonnes idées notamment dans la photographie et le montage mais pitié la mise en scène c’est incompréhensible parfois alors que déjà que c’est une des choses les plus importantes alors quand y’a même pas de paroles ça l’est encore plus. Ca prouve encore une fois que le vrai problème c’est le capitalisme

The translated text placement annoyed me.

The translated text placement annoyed me.

Apparently Pudovkin and Eisenstein were close friends, and they would get drunk together and rattle off their revolutionary ideas on the montage. As both were huge and worshiped figures in their filmic movement, they shared many common ideas, but also expressed stark differences. Indeed they were polar opposites, and one must wonder what their back-and-forths looked like. Was the montage a brutal collision or a glorious canvas for musical structure?

Where Eisenstein was grounded inside more worldly, open-minded influence, Pudovkin (based on this lone critic's admittedly half-assed research) was for more of a polished academic. Because of this, his films haven't remained in the discourse of cinema the way that Eisenstein has. Having looked a tad into the essays and ideals of Pudovkin, the man was undoubtedly a genius, at a time when innovation in cinema was still ripe for malleability; his conjecture was vision as a series of cuts, one right after the other, like an eye opening and closing from one thing into another.

With the rise of sound in film, Pudovkin sadly faded away into relative obscurity. But with THE END OF ST. PETERSBURG, he's a revelation, a vital force of change necessary for the processing of cinematic language. The Soviets loved both he and Eisenstein, as they were the architects responsible for the capturing of recent, world-shaking events in the country's history. Eisenstein made OCTOBER and POTEMKIN, and Pudovkin made this far more cerebral affair.

We are shown huge, stunning battle sequences populated by fervent, marginalized proletariats, with great pride and flag-waving hegemony. Reds emerge victorious, the enemy combatants are defeated, and by the end only a scampering of disparate people are left to congregate in a grand, celebratory waving of paper. St. Peterburg has become the land of Lenin.

There is painterly beauty in every frame of this film, from the fields of hay, the windmills, the gloomy skies, the stark, empty cityscape, all of it is great, great work. Just like many films from the ISSR, especially of this era, THE END OF ST. PETERSBURG is just a different breed. They never made films like this in the West, and in a weird way I'm quite grateful for that.

Apparently Pudovkin and Eisenstein were close friends, and they would get drunk together and rattle off their revolutionary ideas on the montage. As both were huge and worshiped figures in their filmic movement, they shared many common ideas, but also expressed stark differences. Indeed they were polar opposites, and one must wonder what their back-and-forths looked like. Was the montage a brutal collision or a glorious canvas for musical structure?

Where Eisenstein was grounded inside more worldly, open-minded influence, Pudovkin (based on this lone critic's admittedly half-assed research) was for more of a polished academic. Because of this, his films haven't remained in the discourse of cinema the way that Eisenstein has. Having looked a tad into the essays and ideals of Pudovkin, the man was undoubtedly a genius, at a time when innovation in cinema was still ripe for malleability; his conjecture was vision as a series of cuts, one right after the other, like an eye opening and closing from one thing into another.

With the rise of sound in film, Pudovkin sadly faded away into relative obscurity. But with THE END OF ST. PETERSBURG, he's a revelation, a vital force of change necessary for the processing of cinematic language. The Soviets loved both he and Eisenstein, as they were the architects responsible for the capturing of recent, world-shaking events in the country's history. Eisenstein made OCTOBER and POTEMKIN, and Pudovkin made this far more cerebral affair.

We are shown huge, stunning battle sequences populated by fervent, marginalized proletariats, with great pride and flag-waving hegemony. Reds emerge victorious, the enemy combatants are defeated, and by the end only a scampering of disparate people are left to congregate in a grand, celebratory waving of paper. St. Peterburg has become the land of Lenin.

There is painterly beauty in every frame of this film, from the fields of hay, the windmills, the gloomy skies, the stark, empty cityscape, all of it is great, great work. Just like many films from the ISSR, especially of this era, THE END OF ST. PETERSBURG is just a different breed. They never made films like this in the West, and in a weird way I'm quite grateful for that.