Review

Review Date: 2-March-03
Spoiler Rating: Low
Juju Judgment: Junk

Russian Ark (2003)

Before today, I would have said that I could think up 1,001 things worse than being trapped in the Hermitage Museum in St. Petersburg for a couple of hours --- in fact, I probably would have said that I would be hard pressed to think of many things better. But after sitting through the horrendous mess that is "Russian Ark," I must amend my statement to take into account the fact that location isn't everything (despite what your realtor may say). Buried somewhere beneath this steaming pile of simpering obfuscation is a good idea, but it does not make itself known in this experimental film.

The major selling point of "Russian Ark" is that the entire movie is one long, uninterrupted take, which winds in and out of the gorgeous halls, ballrooms, and galleries of the Hermitage, Russia's finest museum and once the winter home of the Romanovs. No doubt it would be difficult for any filmmaker to take up this logistical challenge and forge something with a beauty of its own, but the creator of "Russian Ark," Alexander Sokurov, bungles both the execution and the narration of the film. What he ends up with is an excruciating bit of rambling, with no thematic or emotional core.

The movie follows the footsteps of two visitors to the Hermitage: a Russian who is never seen but is represented by a monotonous voice, and a learned, critical, somewhat sad and lecherous old fellow from Europe (played by Sergey Dreyden and identified in the flyer I picked up as the Marquis de Custine, a French travel writer from the 1830s, though I doubt most people would figure that out even if they'd ever heard of him). These men move not only through the building but also through history, happening upon various notable residents (like Catherine the Great) and visitors like themselves from different eras. Along the way, they interact with a few people (not everyone can see them) and discuss a few pieces of art, but don't seem to draw any particular conclusions or have any definite agenda. In fact, they don't really say much of anything --- the Russian Voice is laconic to the extreme and the Frenchman comes off as a bit mad --- so it's quite difficult to get a grasp on what one is watching. (I was amused by the murmur that all of my fellow moviegoers sent up when little Anastasia ran by and was addressed by name; it was clear that they were all grateful for the chance to feel and appear as if they had some idea what was going on.)

As for the realization of the all-in-one-shot coup, it adds nothing to the film and in some ways detracts. There are several points where the camera stops on a curtain or dark door, where a cut could easily have been disguised, and I say if you're going to go for the gusto, do it so that people can't help but ooh and aah instead of question your integrity. Also, there are many instances where subtitles are given but no one appears to be speaking, or you can't make out who is speaking, which made me wonder whether a Russian viewing the movie without subtitles would lose about a third of the dialogue. (Not that it would matter much.) Finally, I do hope that Sokurov tanned the hides of the many idiot extras in the big closing scene who couldn't resist rubbernecking at the camera at a point where it was much too late to stop filming and start all over again. They really didn't help to create a feeling of being transported to the past.

With the final shot (which is so arty it's comical), the movie offers up the conclusion that Russia will live forever. Thus does Sokurov prove himself to be a fool as well as a semi-incompetent filmmaker, for all things must come to an end. And as the lights went up on "Russian Ark," I was very glad that this is so.

Copyright © 2003 The Jujube (M. I. Kim). All rights reserved.