Ivan's Childhood [DVD] [1962]

Childhood is supposed to be idyllic but that does not apply for the eponymous protagonist of Andrei Tarkovsky's first feature film. Twelve year old orphan, Ivan, joins the partisans to avenge his family's death at the hands of the Nazis. His ability to slip through enemy lines more easily than an adult is useful to the forces and he resists attempts to remove him from the front.

'Ivan's Childhood' is shot in black and white which was Tarkovsky's preferred form, although much of his later work was in colour. Light is used to create images of breathtaking clarity such as the opening dream of happier times with Ivan floating through the sky or a dizzying scene in which Masha, a military doctor, swirls around trees. Cutting to the sound of gunfire is a startling juxtaposition. His poetic visuals make every shot the equivalent of watching a painting in motion but there are occasional explosions and the dream sequence using music, bells and screams to enhance the images is far more terrifying than any horror flick. The story follows more of a linear pattern, apart from the dream sequences, than Tarkovsky's other films; even his customary insertion of newsreel footage fits appropriately.

The influence of Ingmar Bergman and Italian neorealists such as Roberto Rossellini is apparent. Few modern directors are producing work of such measured pace and contemplative tone, perhaps Theo Angelopoulos and Alexsandr Sokurov might merit comparison. Tarkovsky, though, had a singular vision and 'Ivan's Childhood' is an ideal introduction to his distinctive work.

This beautiful debut film by Russian master Tarkovsky is the poignant and often painful journey of young boy Ivan`s experiences as a spy against the German army who murdered his parents. With some of the most incredible cinematography ever put on celluloid, the film often transcends into the surrreal to portray how the horrors of internal and external confliction mould Ivan`s view of the world. Definitely a classic that should not be missed.

Ivan (Nikolay Burlyaev) may be a tad less naive, but there's undeniably something of Come and See's Florya in his anger and his resourcefulness. Like Elem Klimov's devastating classic, there's a mouldy, naturalistic bleakness about Ivan's Childhood that does nothing to brighten the horror of World War II. Using a fractured narrative structure, Andrei Tarkovsky's first feature film concerns the titular orphan and his experiences as a scout on the Soviet Eastern Front.

The film sidesteps the potential sentimentality of its premise (a definite risk given the presence of prominent father and brother figures) by using the situation to ask greater questions about the nature of war. When Ivan throws a tantrum when he's told by his commander that he's going to military school instead of the Front, we naturally question the boy's moral maturity, and his limited understanding of the hypocrisies and complexities of why men fight. And yet, by observing events unfold from Ivan's perspective, aren't we being made to ask such questions of ourselves? Do we really know better than him? With his family gone, and with his youthful eagerness and wanderlust, and his simple smallness, Ivan is more than qualified for his desired role. Hasn't he earned it?

Fans of Solaris will instantly recognise Tarkovsky's ability to find the image that best depicts his characters' psychological state, without recourse to melodrama. "Actors" need not apply. Tarkovsky's eye is so exacting, so demanding, that it's like we're looking through some kind of x-ray vision, trained on the soul. And what soul there is to Tarkovsky: the last frames are the equal of those which close his elegiac science-fiction masterpiece.

If ever one needs convincing of the difference between film as art and film as entertainment, perhaps Tarkovsky should be the first port of call. Not simply because a film like Ivan's Childhood (a perfect title, by the way) is so multi-layered, metaphorical, psychologically complex, eerie, strange and moving - but because all those ARTISTIC elements combine to form a highly ENTERTAINING film, thus making a nonsense of the notion that European "art" film exists to be admired but not enjoyed. Few film-makers can claim to have exploded such distinctions.