Friday, March 2, 2012

Graveyard keeper’s Daughter by Katrin Laur (2011)


Digging up the dirt in Estonia.
Review by Helen Schasmin




Where does the line between film and reality cross with interpretation, where is the indemnity of overloaded realism? There are a lot of complex questions we need to ask ourselves while watching Estonian film. It seems often that filmmakers feel the urge to deal with too many topics and levels of understanding and so is the case with the film Graveyard Geeper’s Daughter (Surnuaiavahi tütar). Poverty is a major issue in Estonian society, even nowadays and it is a smart gesture to use the film medium to attract people’attention on this issue. Katrin Laur’s film does it ambitiously but also try to deal with too many issues, letting the feeling of an overloaded pile of information.

The film focuses on the ruination of a family caused by alcoholism, unemployment and poor living conditions. In the middle of the downfall spiral is a young schoolgirl Lucia who struggles with her school assignments and at the same time tries to take care of her sister with Down’s syndrome. The family undergoes a spare moment of joy when the father can take his family to Finland where he has been invited. But as they return to Estonia nothing has really changed – not in their personalities, ambitions or mentality.


Estonia vs Finland

The comparison of the two countries – Estonia and Finland, leads to an unrealistic touch. It raises unanswered questions like: why would a poor family come back to their broken Estonian home after having experienced the freedom and opportunities of a welfare society? There is no reflection about this choice. Was it willing or mandatory? Nor is there a hint how the trip influenced them later on. What is more, the film puts all Estonian negative stereotypes in one spotlight and expects it to work. Instead of that it raises just more questions: if there is no escape from the character’s everyday problems and no solutions to them, should not that be handled throughout metaphors and allegories, not just be bluntly put on the screen? Clumsy dialogues and poor acting of the young protagonist make it worse. Overall it seems that the actors do not connect to each other, alienate from their roles, and instead of blending to each other and creating opposites or varieties, it feels like the links between them are unnatural and have been unfolded. Fortunately is the leading male character (Rain Simmul) excellent in his part and he seems to carry the plot on well, as if he was made for the part. Tough his role does not seem to be very challenging, it is still enjoyable and gives the film some diversity.

Despite of the depressive theme of the Graveyard Keeper’s Daughter, the image of the film is very colorful, soft and enlightening. Wonderful camera movements by cinematograph Anssi Leino are full of bright coulors give the film a beautiful touch that captures the Estonian landscape and all its individuality. Also the social life environment of Estonian countryside has been captured very truly and adequately, it can be considered a success. The work of the sound designers must be complimented. Lucia’s voice over has been tuned so that it sounds like her speaking but it is actually an older actress who gave her voice to the character. Unfortunately that kind of action leads to a conflict: Lucia’s character’s emotions become repulsive, no childish emotions are left in it and it feels violent in the end.


One question remains at the end : is film the only place to exhale the depression of nationality? A simple answer would be: no. In Graveyard Keeper’s Daughter this serious theme has been handled poorly. Problems have been glutted on top of each other without beeing truly developed to a solution. Estonians are perfectly aware of the social problems. There are plenty of nice and positive things in life to enjoy and interpret in films. The time of overloaded realism in Estonian film medium is over, welcome to the happy endings. 

Letters to Angel, by Sulev Keedus (2011)




An ode to the loss of memory

Sulev Keedus fourth film  rediscovers his country through the eyes of an Afghanistan war veteran who tries to escape his souvenirs and hope to find peace with his granddaughter, Angel.

Review by Ra Ragnar Novod




Letters to Angel (Kirjad Inglile) is an ode to the old world before rapid globalization and to the value of human soul in a world where global interests have reached the level where a single individual doesn’t have the same value as united interest of the world. We see it unfolding through the eyes of Afghanistan war veteran. Like so many others he returns home after nearly 20 years being abroad. He has been gone for so long that he doesn’t recognize his home anymore and not one person is waiting for him. His wife and daughter are gone, seemingly forever. All that remains is his former home. This kind of plot is hard to summarize and anyway, it wouldn’t give a hint of the director’s style and how it creates the world around the theme that mourns the loss of memory and innocence. It is a personal story told from a one man`s point of view. The character seems at least partly close to the director himself which makes the story even more personal than it is for the main character Kirotaja.

Sulev Keedus is one of the most famous Estonian film-makers, whose most celebrated film is Georgica (1998). Letters to Angel is the fourth film he made in 21 years – rare appearances that usually put him in the prestigious category of “auteurs”. Keedus has a very distinctive style. He uses elements that don`t belong to the real everyday life. For instance the fact that Kirotaja`s hometown is now populated by only women and men have been numbed down to a degree of madness. It’s said that women live longer than men, which becomes a terrifying form of truth. The theme about the loss of memory really comes across when you realize that all the nightmares of war are becoming one with Kirotaja`s consciousness. He sees contemporary Estonia as a war ridden wasteland filled with lonely souls. Everywhere he goes he finds signs of chaos – violence and death. He feels surrounded by the sights and sounds of war that used to be his everyday life during his years in Afghanistan. Kirotaja meets old friends and new faces, all running from or towards something, all trying to survive. It`s all part of the grand search of one`s identity. 


Loss and acceptance 


Keedus knows exactly what he wants in the frame. His priority doesn’t seem to be the audience pleasure but how the mind is exercised while seeing the film. Letters to Angel express his style in the clearest and best way. Even more than his previous films, Somnanbuul (2003) and Georgica (1998). Loss and acceptance are the foundations of this story which at first seems to happen in the every day life but is slowly penetrated by elements of grotesque, absurd, insanity… The human side of the story is not entirely forgotten – Kirotaja has never seen his daughter’s baby Angel (Ingela). He only heard her voice on the phone and she is the only reason he came back from Afghanistan, a place where he changed his lifestyle and accepted a more peaceful and human way of life. Kirotaja sees modern day world as a German would look at the Inuit lifestyle : it looks like something out of a absurd science fiction novel.

Maybe the film is the dream of a feverish dying man whose spirit’s journey is fed by the desire of finding his loved ones. It may also be an absurd and grotesque way to show how the world is so intermingled that our identities become less important than Kirotaja’s pen which he always chews while writing letters with no address to his Angel.



  • About modern Estonian cinema 

Despite Sulev Keedus made most of his films after Estonia regained its independence in 1991 after the collapse of the USSR, the frontier between past and present, between the pre-independence period and what happened after is always blurred. That is what makes his films in particular and Estonian cinema in general interesting. Of course, Estonian films don`t get wide international releases and most of the time they are only screened in European films festivals, which contributes to the illusion of a small scale industry not worthy to be recognized abroad. Actually Estonian film industry may be small but it’s also modern and it’s becoming more and more distinctive.

The Last Relic, by Grigori Kromanov and Kalju Komissarov (1969)



You will never meet an Estonian who hasn’t seen it

Review by Greta Varts


Based on the 1895 history novel “Duke Gabriel and the last days of the Pirita Convent“ by Eduard Bornhöhe, “Viimne reliikvia” or “The Last Relic” is a historical adventure film from 1969. Digitally restored in 2000, this remains one of the most viewed and loved Estonian films of all times.


Directed by Grigori Kromanov and Kalju Komissarov, this entertaining and gripping film is one of the first and one of few commercial films of Estonian film history. It was even mockingly called an ‘estern’ at the time of its making, the attempt to create something similar to the popular genre of ‘western’ in Hollywood. The script, which was adapted from the novel by Arvo Valton, sets the story in the middle of 16th century. A nobleman Hans von Risbieter (Raivo Trass) has an important relic in his hands (the remains of St. Bridget) that the convent of St.Bridget would like to get into their hands. Finding a potential bride from the convent, Agnes von Mönnikhusen (Ingrīda Andriņa), the Abbess (Elza Radziņa) and her loyal sidekick Brother Johannes (Rolan Bõkov) see an opportunity for a trade – a bride for the relic. The wedding is already on the way, but peasant revolts break out and the wedding is interrupted by a violent storm of the convent, as a result of which, Agnes is kidnapped by a free man called Gabriel (Aleksandr Goloborodko). The two then escape and fall in love, trying to flee and fight all the people who are after them – the bride’s family, the legendary peasant warrior Ivo von Schenkenberg (Peeter Jakobi) and the convent. All of the horse riding, sword fighting, burning buildings, humor and romance has a happy ending.



A believable and exciting epic 


Shot by Jüri Garšnek as the main cinematographer, the film depicts many of Estonia’s beautiful historical sites and nature – the Tallinn Old Town, South-Estonian natural reserves, Kuressaare castle, St.Nicholas church etc. Some scenes were also shot in Latvia. In general, the film was a joint effort with many actors from other USSR backgrounds. The original film was thus shot in Russian and Estonian dialogue, but then later dubbed by Estonian actors and the sound master mix remains Estonian. As it premiered in a lot of other countries in the beginning of 1970.s there are copies available with other language dubbing as well. Released by studio Tallinnfilm (producer Raimund Felt), the film was second most viewed film in the USSR after its premier. To this day, it remains primarily a classic for Estonians, but has a wider audience as well. The secret to its success lies in the fact that this is an over-all decently made epic with no excess words, witty dialogue, interestingly peculiar characters and cinematic actors. It is shot in a believable and yet exciting way with credible action scenes, coherent historic styling and good enough special effects for its time .



Why Estonians love it so much 


As for its Estonian status, the film entered the general consciousness very soon after its release. There are famous sayings such as ‘Oled sa tont või inimene’ (Are you a ghost or a person) or ‘Mitu korda ma pean ühte ja sama meest tapma’ (How many times do I have to slay the same man) that everyone knows. Also, the musical score with songs by Tõnu and Uno Naissoo have become classics. In the song lyrics one can find a nationalistic message with songs such as ‘Põgene, vaba laps’ (Run, free child) or ‘Pistoda laul’ (The song of the dagger) which talks about slavery and the fight for freedom. The latter is a very important aspect of Estonian history, something that to this day is the central element to Estonian view towards its own history. For this film, during the 1970.s, a time of heavy Soviet censorship, to be able to express these thoughts, is of course down to choosing to set it in history, way down on the timeline of history. Also, at that time, the common enslaver and enemy was the same for Estonians and Russians alike – the German nobility and church.


“Viimne Reliikvia” (The Last Relic), dir. Grigori Kromanov, Kalju Komissarov, 1969.








Bad Hair Friday, by Arun Tamm and Andres Kõpper (2012)



The Friday evening „must-see“?

Bad Hair Friday (“Vasaku jala reede”) , the action comedy by young directors Arun Tamm and Andres Kõpper, is bringing audiences from all walks of life to the cinemas of Tallinn. But why? And should you be one of them?

Review by Greta Varts 



A Tarantino-esque Tallinn-made film for young audiences 
One fine day two young media students were given a fair bit of money after a foreign investor had seen their Tarantino-esque student short and commissioned an action-packed film for young audiences. This is how the story of Bad Hair Friday began. It took a few years, a summer of shooting and a lot of young crew members from the new generation of Estonian film. Now the audiences are flocking to the cinema to see the result like they have not done for years in the history of Estonian cinema. The secret recipe? Easy enough as a guide on paper: cast locally known actors and celebrities, portray contemporary stereotypes, set it in a culturally relevant context of today and add a sense of humor inspired by the youth of the day. Bad Hair Friday is a fast-paced film about different people from various social backgrounds who on one particular summer Friday in Tallinn (the capital of Estonia) become linked both by chance and impulses given by their background stories.

Driven into crazy scenarios by the dangers both in the night and by more abstract notions of the ’darkness’ of humankind, we see thugs, club rats, dangerous mobsters, hookers, rich kids and the more boring ’normal’ kids all having to come to terms with the seemingly random domino effect of life. Varied with some more serious aspects of universal human life, the film generally draws from the comedy genre and tries to engage the viewers by its „drugs, sex and rock’n’roll“. As was said above – easy enough on paper. True, the film, running in the cinemas as this piece is being written, has already drawn viewers in great numbers due to its commercial appeal and will probably become one of the most viewed films since the restoration of independence (1991). However, it is important to note that the value of the film lies more within the current state of Estonian cinema culture than the quality of the film as such, as this film would be utterly irrelevant and poorly received if released in contexts of larger film industries compared to that of Estonia.



An efficient but imperfect recipe
Commenting on the ingredients of the recipe, all adds up to failures in contrast to the apparent monetary success. Firstly, the plot of the film is circumstantial and artificially random, meaning forcedly drawn together as one cohesive narrative. There are too many characters and narrative lines, meaning that they are all subject to a superficial treatment, reaching no satisfactory end result. Secondly, the characters are stereotypical to the extremes and do not change or develop much during the course of the film. Thirdly, the situations are improbable and follow the clichés of the Hollywood film contexts to the letter. The two boys arriving at Tallinn bus station from a presumably more modest town of Estonia, slightly loser flavoured and awkward, are greeted by their friend who seems to be more informed about living it up in the city, promising his friends a good time. Then there are the wannabe-gangster crack addicts exploiting two young girls as prostitutes to provide their income, the prostitutes of course having their own hopes and dreams. There are some more serious underworld characters also involved in the plot, people with money and connections, with the oldest main solution to conflict – torture and murder. We see the rich kids mocking ugly women and snorting cocaine in the club’s VIP section, having sex with at least two females a day. Again, on paper this all looks well and suited to the extremes of the society of the day as caricatures. However, this would perhaps work if the film would be a comedy through and through. By introducing the more serious themes of being and feeling used, peer pressure, cruel violence and suicide, the directing fails to deliver. The key of comedy is lost and yet the story is not credible and does not deliver an educating or thought-provoking message either.



Too many stereotypes
Also, the familiar context of Estonia that the viewers find entertaining is not strong enough in the story itself, but rests heavily on the random jokes and casting decisions. For example, who in Estonia wouldn’t want to see the Estonian Idol winner Ott Lepland who normally sings the most serious of ballads delivering the role of Leemet in the flm; a virgin country boy nerd who in addition to embarrassing himself in most cases, ends up killed after his first time with a girl. In Lepland’s case, the choice to cast a non-actor works. However, the balance is upset heavily by the casting choices as a whole. The professional theatre actors, television actors and non-actors side by side create an uneven performance, all from different departing points and sticking to their style with no compromises for the benefit of the wholesomeness of this film. It could well be that this difference is less noticeable to the foreign viewer who does not recognize the celebrities and has fresh eyes on the professional actors, but this is doubtful. Furthermore, it is doubtful that the foreign viewer would be left with any entertainment value without the knowledge of the inside irony of these casting choices and the jokes these stereotypes offer to the Estonian viewer.

Concerning truthful portrayal of a society, the film fails to depart from stereotypes. The ruling organized crime units of Estonia would highly unlikely be of Estonian origin, the drug addicts would not have the power to hold two healthy girls in their captivity as prostitutes to bargain with, the clubs would not facilitate sex in the public toilets or public cocaine use; and a 20 years old guy would highly unlikely ask someone to marry him, and however naive or nice a guy is, he would probably never kill himself for a girl; a person with a removed ear would not live long without medical attention and so on so forth. Yes, you can argue that in the face of comedy, this is just having a dig at the wrong parts of storytelling, but since this film does seem to also apply to serious issues, these factual discrepancies become irritating and confusing to the viewer. Not to mention that there is a lot of bad directing choices in terms of mise-en-scène, leaving the characters to have conversations in static two shots and yet having guns going off in the background. Again, a question of balancing, this time between the action film and slapstick comedy genres.



Why this film needed to be done anyway
All in all, the value and driving force for the Bad Hair Friday is the praise that it deserves for finally dragging younger audiences to the cinemas to watch an Estonian film. Its importance is removed from the technical execution and creative premises of the film, which are seriously lacking. Instead, the importance is posited in the social dimension and hope that perhaps in time the commercial Estonian cinema will also become a competitive aspect for the local film industry. This can only happen if the endeavors of young film makers with a mission to entertain will also be supported. Without competition within the commercial film, there will be no development in quality and this is why the Bad Hair Friday remains a Friday must-see. On a lighter note, it must be said that there will probably be a curiosity also for the foreign viewer in the strangeness of this film; in its mixture of well known stereotypes and the Estonian context.

Also, one of the best assets of this film is that when treated with the right light expectations and after a long day, this film is capable of gripping the viewer’s attention for the whole film, offering entertainment with all its tricks and chaotic course of action. In that way, the recipe has worked. Releasing approximately 12 films a year, the Estonian film industry has preferred to nurture the art house cinema, creating a situation whereby the general audience will not be interested to see the 10 of them which only the directors themselves understand. Bad Hair Friday gives hope that maybe one day it could be a more level competition between different film endeavors and a more varied choice able to grip more audiences from both the domestic and foreign platform.


“Vasaku jala reede” (Bad Hair Friday), dir. Arun Tamm and Andres Kõpper, 2012
 

Ask the Dead About the Price of Death, by Kaljo Kiisk (1977)



Humanity in the dark corners of the impossible


“Ask the Dead About the Price of Death” is a philosophical exploration of the human mind trying to stay true to itself under the totalitarian system where small people make all the difference or none at all.


Review by Henryk Johan Novod



The director and the time of discomfort

Directed by Kaljo Kiisk, one of the most well-known and active filmmakers during the Soviet era of Estonia (1945 - 1990), Ask the Dead About the Price of Death (Surma hinda küsi surnutelt, 1977) is based on the rebellious act of Soviet underground movement that took place in 1924. All of Kiisk's most valuable works were directed during the Soviet era (“Ask the Dead...” is his ninth film) which was a time of fear, strict rules and censorship. For the film directors it meant that they had very few options to make a movie that didn't serve the ideology of Soviet Russia. Every politically themed film was supervised by the censors and it was very common that a lot of film didn't get funding or a theatrical release just because there was something that didn't serve the views of the political system. Kaljo Kiisk is a great example of an adapted film director who managed to make thought provoking and intriguing films about the life and history of Estonia without being completely censored. Of course some of his films were put on hold or never have been released but that was quite natural during that period. That means that even the most skillful eye didn't match to the strict censorship.


 A “hero“ ready to die for his socialist beliefs


„Ask the Dead About the Price of Death“ is somewhat true, but still quite elaborated story about a man named Anton Sommeri who is imprisoned after the failed attempt of Soviet underground movement to overthrow the local Estonian government. Estonia won their independence from Soviet Russia in 1920. But the shells of Soviet counter-movement managed to be active even during Estonia's independence. 1924 is a very important historical event that showed that Soviet Russia was still trying to take over Estonia. This fictional character Anton Sommeri took part in that act of aggression on the government but the whole thing failed. Members of the underground movement were hunted down and imprisoned. In the beginning of the film Anton Sommeri is imprisoned and interrogated to discard his beliefs and rat out his comrades. Sommeri stays true to his beliefs and against all odds manages to stay strong and brave during the imprisonment. Kiisk`s quite psychological and philosophical approach reflects the commitment and strength of a one man in a dangerous situation. He is ready to die for his socialist beliefs spread by Soviet Russia. At the same time we discover the fear and anxiety among the rebels who try to figure out why they failed and how to save Sommeri from his certain execution.


 A delicate exploration of Estonian occupation


It is a very delicate subjet to explore. From a contemporary Estonian point of view the rebels are part of the dark past of occupation, but from a Soviet perspective the rebels are the heroes of the film. It is natural because nobody had the chance to make a political film that discredits Soviet Russia and questions the harsh condition during the Estonian occupation. Kiisk figured out how to avoid taking sides and created true humane characters that didn`t reflect the Soviet ideology. Instead he tries to explore the definition of sacrificing yourself to stay true to your beliefs and not letting anybody manipulating you to sell out yourself and your brothers in arms.


A philosophical approach of filmmaking


Kiisk`s approach is completely philosophical. If you are not familiar with Estonia's history you do not have to worry about not completely understanding the film. The film doesn't give names or the overview about that time, because it is not necessary. The subject matter of inner strength and staying true to your beliefs is dominating over the true events that took place and it doesn't try to show you the rebels as a romantic heroes who are fighting for communism or Estonia as a evil little country what is controlled by treacherous secret police and government and that the country is in need of change. In this case in need of true communism. This balance was very hard to produce because every film in Soviet Russia were always intended to praise communism and show how everything is much more better than before. Kiisk`s direction is subtle and with a unnerving mood. The rebels are facing an unprecedented danger when they are staying in independent Estonia. Their attempt failed and it means that they have to regroup and escape from Estonia in the fear of imprisonment. Kaljo Kiisk shows them as emotional humans with flaws and dreams that they had to leave behind to commit themselves to the cause.


 Fears and regrets of unfortunate characters


The film follows a linear narrative from Sommeri's imprisonment to the unfortunate fate of him and the rebels who flee from the country to face another danger. The Soviet system didn't use to forgive failures and we can only imagine what happened to those who had to face their punishment. It is the sense of constant fear of the unnamed but always present danger that lurks these groups of people whose ideology wont save them from the unfortunate fate of failure even when they are the true soldiers. We are introduced to the tense situation of Sommeri and his lover. The imprisonment brings up long forgotten feelings for each other and the always lurking fear of death. Kiisk explores these two characters, their fears and regrets and their selfless but immerse strength to commit to the cause but the most important part of these characters are their humanity which is a rare sight to see in a film made during the Soviet era of Estonia. Humane characters in extreme situation were never true to life because the Soviet system demanded propaganda for their ideology. No film was free from this task but it took tremendous amount of wit and skills to present a story that challenged the censors and managed to go public.

„Ask the Dead about the Price of Death“ is a fine example of political film that managed to pass the censors, the pressure of ideology and live a short but still successful life with its intelligent way of seeing humanity still attached.

Portrait of a Director: Grigori Kromanov (1926-1984)


Rising above the ideology in Soviet Estonia

The Russian-Estonian intellectual director Kromanov serves valuable lessons with his legacy. A case study of his film „Diamonds for the Proletariat Dictatorship“ (1975) shows that ideology does not always corrupt the times and people within it.


Essay by Greta Varts 


Grigori Kromanov is a Russian-Estonian theatre and film director, making his films in the Soviet Republic of Estonia in the 1960s and 1970s. His subject matters were drawn from history and present day alike, his genre choices range from comedy to drama, epic history to philosophical science fiction and yet he only made 6 full feature films in his career. At the time when in Europe and in US directors like Spielberg, Allen, Tarkovsky, Forman and Fassbinder were making their mark on the new cinema in postmodern fashion, the Soviet Union (with the exception of Tarkovsky and a few others) and its satellites was following a relatively safe path of conforming to the ideological requirements. The soviet ideological pressure left no stone unturned, but to varying degrees. The borders within which the authors had to work was not always inhibiting. Instead of blatant counterpointing and rebellion against ideological pressures, directors turned towards the latent, the hidden truths available through committed viewing only. Such was also Kromanov. The truth that Kromanov offers in his films is a rather personal one, different from most of his contemporaries in the Soviet Estonian film industry. Although he made several compromises to his films as a result of the studio’s faithfully communist requirements, Kromanov was not the best friend of communism as such. Even though on the surface he seems to comply with the topics in some of his films, his ideological views are not prevalent as departing points for the content of his films. The value of his works is in his power as a director to rise above the ideology, to the realm of truths that speak to all people in all eras and through all ideologies.


Alienation in Kromanov’s oeuvre

Kromanov’s background in theatre in an eastern-european culture of typically true Stanislavski followers, has no doubt contributed to his ability to delve into the human psychology. It is interesting to note that at the same time his films are very cinematic, unusual for directors originating from the stage. His feature films carry a strong authorial perspective, also very unusual for the time and cultural context in question. Kromanov was not and is not always received with understanding. Partly due to his Russian-Estonian origin and partly because of his unlikely subject matters. As for his origins and the affect of being a Russian-Estonian on his works, we can see a prevalence of alienation themes. His ambivalent belonging to two nations and cultures, not feeling at home in either is an inspiration to his topics of roots and uprootedness of the modern man. This sounds very much a modernist approach, an era already over and giving way to the postmodern discourses in the context of the rest of Europe, but a relatively fresh and inexhausted perspective in Soviet Estonia. His creative canon can be subject to many interpretations, but one remains – his main goal was to tell stories about people. In this way he was the most capable translator of what it means to be human in eras with their unique multifaceted essences.



Diamonds for the Proletariat Diactorship“ (1975) : a spiritual longing for the lost old Russia


„Diamonds for the Proletariat Dictatorship“ is not only one of Kromanov’s best films, but also an important piece in the 1970.s Soviet cinema. It is a reflection of Kromanov’s own inner spiritual world and an exhaustive expression of his world views on the screen, opening up many sides of discussion and interpretation possibilites. The plot centers around the events and problematics of the aftermath of communist revolution in Russia, around the year 1921. Estonia, behind the barricades, thought of as the fascist enemy by the Russian revolutionaries, serves as the playing field and a complicated web of secret agents, counterrevolutionaries and intelligent double crossings begins. Tha diamonds referred to are the diamonds and valuables kept in the vaults in Moscow from the czarist times, an asset worth more than enough to feed the country. There is a question mark hidden in the title. Does it say that diamonds are directed towards the proletariat or that they belong to them by default? Do we want the diamonds to go to the proletariat dictatorship for saving the situation of the people or are we arguing about who people’s assets belong to? Diamonds or bread? Asking this kind of questions whilst interpreting this film is the key that opens up the varied discussions about its message.

All of the characters in the film belong to some sort of a duality, power vs heart, idea vs action, consciousness vs ideology etc. The film brings these characters to the viewer by their destiny which serves them as they ’deserve’ and in general these ’deserving’ fates or people would fit well into the Soviet ideology. However, the journeys of Kromanov’s characters have a lot of detours from the stereotype of the Soviet hero. Facilitated by Kromanov’s skillful directing towards the actors, his characters become more than signs, they become clear and wholesome images of people. Interestingly enough this is the dominating aspect of the film that comes across from the screen and reaches the viewers first, awaking a sense of empathy. Throughout the film, the viewer is able to respond emotionally to the anti-heroes as well as the ideologically suitable characters and Kromanov does so by positioning all of his characters into the same conflict, unable to connect to one side or the other – the claustrophobic void between the personal and political, human and ideological.

Thus we see the KGB agent Issajev, the protagonist of the film, a young man with solid communist principals and a supporter of the revolution in all of its forms. His father Vladimirov, a typical Russian intellectual, is torn between the general idea of communism being a value and the results of the revolution by which intelligence, education and culture have become dying values. For Issajev, the conflict is thus between his fiery support for the revolution and its goals, his duties and the understanding he has for his father’s world – the centuries old cultural values of the czarist Russia, protecting which would be considered to be a crime against ideology. Meeting a writer Nikandrov in a Tallinn prison, a place considered fascist at the time by the revolutionaries of Russia, he resolves his conflict in a bitter understanding of a paradox remaining unsolved. It is a sadness in understanding that by saving his mission, uncovering the counterrevolution antiheroes and breaking safe from nationalist Estonia, he does not receive any personal joy or peace of mind. His father has meanwhile been killed by Russian counterrevolution. Rather, Issajev remains nostalgic to the times he could go to the woods with his father, setting the world right whilst picking mushrooms and studying ants’ nests. This scene is a beautiful end to the film, echoing visually in the viewers’ minds and establishing Issajev as the line running through all the characters by his bitter resolution of inner conflicts.


The anti-hero is also opened by the duality principle. Vorontsov is a true bastard in the eyes of the Soviet ideology, not only the leader of the counterrevolution, but also a former nobleman. The ambivalence of his portrayal is mainly down to the acting and situations he is positioned into. As a human being, Vorontsov evokes empathy, but by his actions, he is portrayed as an enemy. His cruelty is balanced by his spiritual suffering. Interestingly, Vorontsov’s character is the only anti-hero remained unpunished. In the end of the film, he receives a ’deserving’ punishment by verdict, but he has vanished and the sentence is not carried out. In the role of Vorontsov the actor Alexandr Kaydanovskiy made his first role, a very nuanced and incredible one at that and was after that cast in Tarkovsky’s „Stalker“ (1979).

The story is told and framed by the character Nikandrov. A writer who flees Russia, because of his art not being valued by the new powers. He moves to Tallinn and wishes to emigrate to Europe, but the nationalistic powers of Tallinn suspect him of being an agent and lock him up. Nikandrov is then faced with a conflict of his own, whether to turn to the powers he escaped from or deny his Russian heritage entirely. He also remains unresolved, a pure, even though cowardly a heart, missing the Russia that he had and that will never come back again. Safe from prison and wandering the streets of Tallinn he escapes from the street and encounters a kind Estonian stranger who offers him shelter and food. He then says the golden words: „I don’t have a home.“ Nikandrov’s character is the key to understanding Kromanov himself, a Russian minded and spirited in its old-fashioned meaning, in the context of 19th century St.Petersburg intellectual circles, a supporter of the Russian soul and cultural abilities, not the blind follower of the nation’s new ideological pursuit. In Kromanov’s works, this longing for the lost old Russia is not a political one, but a spiritual one and it echoes through all of his works.


Innovative cinematography


The cinematography of „Diamonds for the Proletariat Dictatorship“ is also innovative for its time and context. The generation starting in the end of the 1960s brought new ideas and fresh perspectives to the film studios of Soviet Estonia. The cinematographer, often working with Kromanov and on this film as well, is one of these people. Jüri Sillart, famous for experimenting with light and often compared to the best cinematographers of Soviet Russia, has created an expressive visual world in „Diamonds“. His use of colour and light is innovative and support the plot by thinking alongside and adding to the visual. The compositions and camera movement are also clever in the way they portray the space, juxtaposing wide landscapes and spaciousness to tight and claustrophobic spaces, creating a connotation with the duality conflicts within the charaters. The use of mirrors and glass surfaces is also a noteworthy aspect of his style that reflect the topics of man having to look at himself. This is where the modernist approach comes together both in cinematography and directing. This film is about man and man having a thorough look at himself.


Kromanov’s legacy


The courage to make a film about the history of KGB in 1970s is not a less important aspect of this film. Kromanov risked being titled as ’white’ (supporter of the csarist Russia) or monarchist in many ways. However, choosing not to portray times closer to his present day, but to concentrate on the beginning, the complicated and confusing times of the year 1921, the direct aftermath of the communist revolution, gave him an opportunity to tell a story by opening up many faces of the event and its affect on the people within it. This is why in his films the main expressed themes focus on the humane. Man in crisis, the sense of a man through his inner values and surrounding situations, the juxtaposition of the personal to the collective values -such as love, mercy, forgiveness, the possibility of a cultural heritage and the wellbeing of people. These are the themes that interest people in all eras and contexts, always carrying both subjective and generalist truths.


To conclude, I would like to finally propose the contours of the legacy from which we can learn and remind ourselves about in the present day. There is a saying: ’Let’s call the things what they are’. Semantically this sentence is of the worst kind, there is no such thing as right names for right things in the world where language is but an abstract concept with constructed meaning. To pull up an equation mark between for example murderer and communist, murderer and nationalist, murderer and estonian, murderer and russian – to assume that any claim would be naming the right thing with the right name is a closed paradox. This is also the prevailing mentality of new generations towards communism, an idea that Marxism already suggests communist terror and tyranny. However, it is likely that Karl Marx would never have stepped into the communist party himself. Twisted words and straight forward generalising is thus a dangerous business and in the case of Soviet cinema can lead to a mindless dismissal of excellent films. Kromanov is a faithful Russian soul, a member of the Estonian nation, but first and foremost a person stuck in his time with no proper home or roots. His main goal is an apolitical stance, commenting on the human values through the ideological topics of his time, but without ever conforming to it. He unveils the crisis within these frames and within the souls of the people inolved. Kromanov gives a valuable view about both Estonian Russian culture from the position of an outside observer. He should stand as an example and reminder that a cultural integration between two nations is possible and that this integration can lead to rich artistic expression.


Filmography:


 - "Põrgupõhja uus Vanapagan" (1964, co-directed with Jüri Müür) (The new devil of the bottom of hell)

- "Mis juhtus Andres Lapeteusega?" (1966) (What happened to Andres Lapeteus?)

- "Meie Artur" (1968, co-directed with Mati Põldre) (Our Arthur)

- "Viimne reliikvia" (1969) (The Last Relic)

- "Briljandid proletariaadi diktatuurile" (1975) (Diamonds for the proletariat dictatorship)

- ""Hukkunud Alpinisti" hotell" (1979) (The hotel of the “Perished Alpinist”)

Thursday, March 1, 2012

Bumpy by Helle Karis-Murdmaa (1981)

A bumpy road in the Estonian wonderland.

Review by Helen Schasmin

The film is based on a fairytale by O.Luts called Bumpy (Nukitsamees).

Children’s films in Estonian film history are all remarkably well done. They have an ensemble of unity that ties the mise-en-scenes, camera movements and storyline into one great hole. There is always an enlightening essence in a plot which demolishes the evil obstruction on it’s way. Well compsed children films in the 80’s include pices like Karoliine hõbelõng (1984), Metsluiged (1987) and Nukitsamees (Bumpy) (1981). The latter will be  discussed as follows.

In childhood every decision is a journey and Bumpy is an amazing adventure story of children who discover life and all of its wrong sides. One day while playing around, protagonists get lost from their way home so in one point they find themselves from dark lands that nobody even dears to speak about glutted with witches, darkness, evil and spells.

The story of a family of seven children represents the warmth and love that you can only find from home. No matter how big the evil you will cross in your way, home is always the safest place on earth that you can always count on. And that is what this film is all about.

Bumpy (which is also the name of the main character, “Nukitsamees” in Estonian) is composed with beautiful shots of nature with great landscape sceneries. Step by step we are introduced both reverse worlds. The dark world of evil where the forest-creatures live and where the children must fight for their survival. For the contrast we find the colourful world of home which is filled with laughter, dancing, singing and goodness – the bright land of home where you feel most protected. The beauty of the story lies in the idea that even in the upside down world children always find something to live for or something noble to look forward to. These two opposite worlds create a hole in a film which balances the plot very neatly and creates a nice storyline overall.

In favor of the director it must be emphasized that the skill of forming characters believable and lively on a screen has been succeeded felicitously. It is not an easy task to put children into a film environment and creat characters out of them but in the film Bumpy the director Helle Karis-Murdmaa has accomplished the assignment beautyfully. All of the children’s impersonations of protagonists are well and truly played. In every scene the audience can feel the two worlds bumping – the good one and the evil one, and a little Bumpy-character in the middle of it. Egert Soll’s role as Bumpy is  definitely praiseworthy.

Yet there is always a room for another surprise. You can feel the harmony in every mise-en-scène from the first frame till the last one which is supported by perfect camera movements. There is also a big role for music and lyrics to carry. First of all, they are very entertaining, they sound amusing and there is a meaning behind the words. You can consider lyrics as good wishes that you say to people who are dare to you and make them feel better in a bad situation by singing them. Lyrics are also like spells that evil people can put on you but with an antispell you can demolish the wicked words. But all of the hardness in life can be overcome by fondness that lies in your roots (family). It is also remarkable how the film makers have used film tricks. It was not so common in Estonian film in the 80’s. For an example, you can see monsters moving backwards or Bumpy’s cut off horns growing back in a second. It gave an amazing touch for children to watch and for grownups to enjoy.

Bumpy is a simple screenplay with deep thoughts, which is very common to Estonian film makers. But in this case, throughout the film different characters are interpretated in various ways that makes the film multidimensional thus suitable for both: children and adults. Further more, it feels like there is a lot of hidden ideas behind the roles, like the witches in the forest represent the evil we find in our life journey, as the mother/family represents the goodness in life generally. Film is also a good medium to preserve the legacy of nation and its customs, in Bumpy’s case, it is the idea of Estonians honoring the nature and family that reflects very clearly in the film. Bumpy is a simple yet a complex film at the same time, and that is what makes it a film classic.

Introduction



This blog has been created by the Bachelors students of the Tallinn University Baltic Film and Media School (BFM) during a workshop dedicated to film criticism.
We thought that Estonian films deserved to meet a wider audience and will try to do our best to present you some of the films that shaped our history.