It's one of the most bumpy emotional roller coaster that I've ever ridden in a movie.
If it's fictitious, why don't we make it dramatic to the utmost? Most likely Nikita Mikhalkov shares this view with me. This is a story of fate. The film didn't bother to conceal the cruelty of fate, instead it planted seeds on the most barren soil and nourished leaves and flowers, even though they are only ironies or self-satisfying jokes on war, hierarchy and fusty disciplines, which at least managed to inspire people, if not causing a revolution.
It takes too much to fall into an innocent youth. For a love of a Russian boy as innocent as Oscar Wilde's Dorian Gray, an ill-fated American widow had even more to pay, which I admire so much. **(spoiler) It's really ironic while the reason for their acquaintanceship was the soulless machine with a poetic name of "The Barber of Siberia", André Tolstoi actually became one at last.** It's not only his tribute to his first love, but also his revenge on his fate by instilling meanings into a shallow notion called faith.
It's funny. It even seems too hilarious for a theme of sad love. I occasionally laughed from the utmost of my heart, which I never did during watching "Borat" several days ago, and I knew perfectly that I would have to pay for that as the story unfolded. I did. It's easy to resist the temptation of either happiness or sadness, but it's quite another thing to deal with both at the same time.
Judging from my own cinematic experience, "slippery floor" and "proposal" are two of the most dramatic scenes I've ever seen and the fat ignorant American officer who didn't give a damn about Mozart is among the most comedic characters. I found it surprisingly funny because they're not sheer jokes. They are actions which involved courage, optimism and reasons. And that's why even more tears were shed **(spoiler) when the mask boy played Mozart for our ignorant officer in an incredible harmony and the officer was finally convinced and shouted, "Mozart is a great composer".** The very idea of understanding and believing overwhelmed me.
Need I bring forward the attractive acting, artistic cinematography and gorgeous score? I mean...it's Russian. It features beautiful landscape, American beauty, Russian cute guys and, of course, a bittersweet story of love and friendship, changes and fate.
As the movie told, in the day of forgiveness, strangers beat each other black and blue and then begged for forgiveness, and they were serious. Relating to that, I recalled the friendship between André and Polievsky. **(spoiler) They fought a fencing duel and hurt each other**, but Polievsky was the most devoted one through the whole film that went great length to help and protect André.
When the boy eventually took off the mask and kept on running along the coast, I'm convinced that life can be ill-fated sometimes, but it will be worth it if you took it on with courage and sincerity.
The last time I've heard Mozart's Piano Concerto no. 23 was in Alexander Sokurov's "Spiritual Voices", in which Mozart was also specially mentioned. And then this one came. Now to me Mozart seems to become a tag for Russian films --- though the two of them are excellent in its own way.
Thanks to my friend's recommendation, this film adds an extraordinary color to my complex of Russian cinema.
If it's fictitious, why don't we make it dramatic to the utmost? Most likely Nikita Mikhalkov shares this view with me. This is a story of fate. The film didn't bother to conceal the cruelty of fate, instead it planted seeds on the most barren soil and nourished leaves and flowers, even though they are only ironies or self-satisfying jokes on war, hierarchy and fusty disciplines, which at least managed to inspire people, if not causing a revolution.
It takes too much to fall into an innocent youth. For a love of a Russian boy as innocent as Oscar Wilde's Dorian Gray, an ill-fated American widow had even more to pay, which I admire so much. **(spoiler) It's really ironic while the reason for their acquaintanceship was the soulless machine with a poetic name of "The Barber of Siberia", André Tolstoi actually became one at last.** It's not only his tribute to his first love, but also his revenge on his fate by instilling meanings into a shallow notion called faith.
It's funny. It even seems too hilarious for a theme of sad love. I occasionally laughed from the utmost of my heart, which I never did during watching "Borat" several days ago, and I knew perfectly that I would have to pay for that as the story unfolded. I did. It's easy to resist the temptation of either happiness or sadness, but it's quite another thing to deal with both at the same time.
Judging from my own cinematic experience, "slippery floor" and "proposal" are two of the most dramatic scenes I've ever seen and the fat ignorant American officer who didn't give a damn about Mozart is among the most comedic characters. I found it surprisingly funny because they're not sheer jokes. They are actions which involved courage, optimism and reasons. And that's why even more tears were shed **(spoiler) when the mask boy played Mozart for our ignorant officer in an incredible harmony and the officer was finally convinced and shouted, "Mozart is a great composer".** The very idea of understanding and believing overwhelmed me.
Need I bring forward the attractive acting, artistic cinematography and gorgeous score? I mean...it's Russian. It features beautiful landscape, American beauty, Russian cute guys and, of course, a bittersweet story of love and friendship, changes and fate.
As the movie told, in the day of forgiveness, strangers beat each other black and blue and then begged for forgiveness, and they were serious. Relating to that, I recalled the friendship between André and Polievsky. **(spoiler) They fought a fencing duel and hurt each other**, but Polievsky was the most devoted one through the whole film that went great length to help and protect André.
When the boy eventually took off the mask and kept on running along the coast, I'm convinced that life can be ill-fated sometimes, but it will be worth it if you took it on with courage and sincerity.
The last time I've heard Mozart's Piano Concerto no. 23 was in Alexander Sokurov's "Spiritual Voices", in which Mozart was also specially mentioned. And then this one came. Now to me Mozart seems to become a tag for Russian films --- though the two of them are excellent in its own way.
Thanks to my friend's recommendation, this film adds an extraordinary color to my complex of Russian cinema.