Alexander Nevsky [1938] [DVD]

"Alexander Nevsky" (1938) is a film-child born of its era, struggling with the transition from silent to sound and steeped in a Stalinist Soviet tradition. Its is, of course, State-produced and as such carries a State message; Stalin was not ashamed of his propaganda, and openly acknowledged Eisenstein's 1938 film as such.

The story, built around a mediaeval historical event, the Battle of Lake Chudskop/Peipus in 1242, is relatively simplistic. German Teutonic Knights, fresh from the conquest of neighbouring Poland and Livonia from indigenous Pagan peoples, begin to encroach into Russian Orthodox lands. They burn, rape and pillage the good people of Rus (mediaeval Russia), who call upon their local military hero, Prince Alexander Nevsky, to rescue them. This he does with gusto, accompanied by a lusty proletariat and encouraged by the music of Prokofieff, not to mention some rousing nationalistic songs from the townsfolk of Novgorod.

Of course, the contemporary 1930's analogies are immediately apparant - patriotic Russians defend their threatened homeland from the evil Germans. The situation between the German Reich and the Soviet Republic in 1938 could hardly have been more strikingly mediaevalised. It is hardly surprising then that in 1939, when Stalin and Hitler signed a treaty, the film was withdrawn from circulation, and rereleased again in 1941 following the breakdown of Soviet-German relations. "Alexader Nevsky" is propaganda and there is no denying it.

So, does the film still have relevancy to audiences today? The answer is yes, it serves as an interesting timepiece if you're interested in Soviet film, Soviet propaganda or in the history of film-making in general. But if you're expecting a cinematic masterpiece, timeless in its brilliance, you're likely to be disappointed. While scenes like the famed Battle on the Ice are singular and very well done, they're overly languid and lethargic for modern tastes, and scripting leaves a great deal to be desired (that is unless you're a Soviet leader!).

As an aside, the subtitles on this particular edition are a ham-handed attempt at recreating a "medieval" speech pattern. Perhaps it was the interesting word order that led me to despair over the scripting.

Overall, a timepiece classic, essential in its importance for historians and media students. But as a piece of entertainment, a film that has outlived its magnetism.

Indeed, it is the operatic comparison which most intrigues me. The film is famous for its score by Prokofiev - a dynamic, passionate work in its own right. Eisenstein has a reputation for crafting films which have extraordinary visual quality - the battle on the ice is one of the great iconic images of cinema. What we get, here, is a spectacular black and white film, with a spectacular score, but the human element is a stereotyped presence ... a handful of principals backed by a solid chorus, but none of them bursting into song.

The propaganda element is obvious. Alexander Nevsky was a Russian leader who fought off invading Swedes, Poles, and Germans, at a time when his country was most threatened by the Tartars - they exacted an annual tribute to ensure their continued passivity. Setting up a confrontation between Russian and Germanic forces was an obvious parallel in 1938. Nevsky inspired the peasantry to fight - the Communists could identify with that. And Eisenstein portrays the Germans, the Teutonic knights, as faceless creatures, heads encased in steel, rigidly uniformed with prominent crosses on their cloaks and shields.

But the propaganda went wrong. Stalin signed a pact with Hitler. The film was hastily shelved ... then just as rapidly reproduced when the Germans invaded. Thereafter, it became a major propaganda tool, welcomed around the world, and draws parallels with Olivier's "Henry V" in England. Both films, of course, have iconic battle images (the French cavalry brought to their aristocratic knees by the longbow and English yeomen). Both films benefit from their artistic credentials - a Shakespeare script, a Prokofiev score. But the acting in "Alexander Nevsky" is execrable.

Eisenstein's film is stylistically very dated - it retains that silent movie feel. He uses images to suggest the vastness of Russia, he uses images to suggest the potency of its vast population and their strength when they come together to resist tyrants. He uses the strength of the musical score to underpin his images and reduce the dialogue to a minimum. It makes the actors mere artefacts and reduces the conflict to a clash of empires and ideologies rather than a battle between flesh and blood.

The battle scenes show their age - they are visually striking, but they are poorly choreographed by modern standards. What you are presented with are stereotypes of strength, courage, loyalty, duty, obedience, and the honour and righteousness of the Russian cause.

"Alexander Nevsky" is an important film, a milestone in European cinema. It deserves to be watched, critically. It has elements which are extraordinarily potent, and acting which reduces much of the film to bland insignificance. It needs to be viewed in its context - political and historical - and to be recognised as a film which deserves respect, but which is not above criticism.

Indeed, it is the operatic comparison which most intrigues me. The film is famous for its score by Prokofiev - a dynamic, passionate work in its own right. Eisenstein has a reputation for crafting films which have extraordinary visual quality - the battle on the ice is one of the great iconic images of cinema. What we get, here, is a spectacular black and white film, with a spectacular score, but the human element is a stereotyped presence ... a handful of principals backed by a solid chorus, but none of them bursting into song.

The propaganda element is obvious. Alexander Nevsky was a Russian leader who fought off invading Swedes, Poles, and Germans, at a time when his country was most threatened by the Tartars - they exacted an annual tribute to ensure their continued passivity. Setting up a confrontation between Russian and Germanic forces was an obvious parallel in 1938. Nevsky inspired the peasantry to fight - the Communists could identify with that. And Eisenstein portrays the Germans, the Teutonic knights, as faceless creatures, heads encased in steel, rigidly uniformed with prominent crosses on their cloaks and shields.

But the propaganda went wrong. Stalin signed a pact with Hitler. The film was hastily shelved ... then just as rapidly reproduced when the Germans invaded. Thereafter, it became a major propaganda tool, welcomed around the world, and draws parallels with Olivier's "Henry V" in England. Both films, of course, have iconic battle images (the French cavalry brought to their aristocratic knees by the longbow and English yeomen). Both films benefit from their artistic credentials - a Shakespeare script, a Prokofiev score. But the acting in "Alexander Nevsky" is execrable.

Eisenstein's film is stylistically very dated - it retains that silent movie feel. He uses images to suggest the vastness of Russia, he uses images to suggest the potency of its vast population and their strength when they come together to resist tyrants. He uses the strength of the musical score to underpin his images and reduce the dialogue to a minimum. It makes the actors mere artefacts and reduces the conflict to a clash of empires and ideologies rather than a battle between flesh and blood.

The battle scenes show their age - they are visually striking, but they are poorly choreographed by modern standards. What you are presented with are stereotypes of strength, courage, loyalty, duty, obedience, and the honour and righteousness of the Russian cause.

"Alexander Nevsky" is an important film, a milestone in European cinema. It deserves to be watched, critically. It has elements which are extraordinarily potent, and acting which reduces much of the film to bland insignificance. It needs to be viewed in its context - political and historical - and to be recognised as a film which deserves respect, but which is not above criticism.