Andrei Rublev (1966)
“I’ve spent half my life in blindness.”
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With that extensive caveat noted, the various episodes are as follows: in the “Prologue,” we see a random man (Nikolay Glazkov) floating up to the sky in a hot air balloon, looking down at the vista below him. (This brief sequence does nothing to inform us about what we’re about to watch, though it’s beautifully shot.) In the first formal episode — entitled “The Jester (Summer 1400)” — we see our title character (Anatoliy Solonitsyn) and two other monks, Danil (Nikolay Grinko) and Kirill (Ivan Lapikov), wandering into a barn where a jester (Rolan Bykov) is performing. (The jester does not meet a happy fate.) Next we see jealous Kirill encountering “Theophanes the Greek (Summer–Winter–Spring–Summer 1405–1406)” and hoping to apprentice with him — but much to Kirill’s displeasure, Theophanes is more interested in working with Rublev. “The Passion (1406)” depicts a snowy, violent passion play: … while “The Holiday (1408)” shifts gears to show Rublev encountering a party of reveling pagans. “The Last Judgement (Summer 1408)” includes a hideous scene of vengeance in the forest, which Rublev responds to by angrily throwing paint onto the wall of a church he’s working in. The next episode — “The Raid (Autumn 1408)” — is undoubtedly the most disturbing of them all, showing the ruthless invasion of a village by Tatars on horseback; only Rublev and a mute female “fool” (who we were introduced to in the last sequence) are left alive. In “Silence (Winter 1412),” we see that Rublev is now in a monastery, having taken a vow of silence after killing someone during the raid. Kirill comes and begs for forgiveness, too. The last episode — entitled “The Bell (Spring 1423-Spring 1424)” — is surprisingly gripping, though we’re suddenly following an entirely new character/artist: the son of a deceased bell-maker who is attempting the dangerous work of overseeing the casting of a giant bell (if it doesn’t work, he will be beheaded). “The Epilogue” is finally in color, showing images of the real Rublev’s actual work. If you don’t feel like you understand much about Rublev himself from this overview of the film, you’re not alone — however, it’s an engaging enough visual experience that it should be seen at least once. Notable Performances, Qualities, and Moments: Must See? Categories
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One thought on “Andrei Rublev (1966)”
First viewing (1/27/21). A once-must, for its place in cinema history.
I suppose what it boils down to is: there are film fanatics (even particularly obsessive ones) and then there are cinephiles (viewing cinema as an art form). Tarkovsky’s work leans more toward those in the latter group. But should the former group still seek these films out? Generally I think so. They should at least be curious.
‘AR’ is among Tarkovsky’s more accessible films. The director said he did not set out to make a traditional biopic but, instead, one that showed the painter in relation to his place in time. ~ all of which comes full circle in the film’s last 5 minutes or so, with Rublev’s actual work shown in close-up (and in color)
Of course the film will resonate more with viewers who are more familiar with the painter’s life / work as well as Russian history. Still, it is not the historical slog one might be tempted to think before seeing it. At just over 3 hours (I watched the shorter version preferred by Tarkovsky), ‘AR’ moves along in a surprisingly fluid manner. You may not understand all of its details, point by point, but you will certainly follow the general flow. As well, there are enough particularly powerful sequences throughout which are more or less self-explanatory.
If nothing else, viewers will almost certainly be impressed with the film’s scope and ambition – as well as Tarkovsky’s direction and the obvious commitment of his cast.