The Long Dark Marathon of the Soul 2020: The Extraordinary Adventures of Mr. West in the Land of the Bolsheviks (1924), directed by Lev Kuleshov

 

The Trailer

and

The Appropriate Tune: "Stranger in Moscow", by Michael Jackson

    The plan was always to feature a film from the Soviet Union this year, but originally that film was the infamous 1985 war film Come and See. Given that film’s reputation however and given my rather dour mood at the time I decided that I was in the mood for some lighter fare. Really the whole final 10 needed a bit of brightening up, Mondo Cane tries but much like the Man Show went the way of the comedy dinosaurs decades ago, and Ong Bak is a bit too heavy. I needed something that wasn’t cynical, something to bring the spirits up, and when I came across the name of today’s film I figured I had found what I was looking for. Plus it apparently had cowboys in it, and if Revenge hadn’t come through I needed a backup. Also think two steps ahead kids.

    Released in 1924 through Goskino, The Extraordinary Adventures of Mr. West in the Land of the Bolsheviks (current record holder of the longest film title in Thunderblog history) was the debut film of Lev Kuleshov, written by Nikolai Aseyev and Vsevolod Pudovkin. Porfiry Podobed plays John West, an American man who alongside his cowboy bodyguard Jeddy decides to take a journey to the Land of the Bolsheviks, to see for himself all the horrors talked about in the various New York magazines. However things go awry as soon as they touch down at the capital; Not only is West’s handbag stolen by a child but West and Jeddy are quickly separated, with several instances of cowboy-themed grand theft auto committed in the interim. Separated by his six-shooting guardian John West is officially a stranger in a land, and it’s about that time that a gang of crooks set their sights upon him. They’ve got their hands on West’s bag you see, containing some of those New York magazines, and they’ve got a plan to take him for everything he’s worth. Has John West doomed himself in his pursuit of knowledge, or does an extraordinary adventure yet await him? You’d have to watch to find out, of course.

    As a comedy The Extraordinary Adventures… is not dissimilar from the films you saw in the West at the time, your Keaton and Chaplin vehicles. Primarily visual comedy, slapstick, but the way that it incorporates the satirical and fantastical elements into an otherwise realistic setting gives it an incredibly surreal atmosphere. Much of the first act of this film is dedicated to Jeddy’s long, complicated run from the police, which was predicated on Jeddy lassoing a random passerby at threatening him at gunpoint for some reason, as an example. Then there is the strange fixation on fights;There are about four or five times throughout this movie where characters, mainly villainous ones, break out into fist fights. An opportunity for more slapstick obviously, but what surprised me is the physicality of these fights. People are jumping on each other, they’re getting shoved into the floor, I would not be surprised if someone didn’t bust their ass during the making of this movie. It’s genuinely madcap in a way you don’t see much in films these days, and sometimes even in cartoons, a dedication to being silly.that brings to mind the heartfelt worldview of a child.

    Much of the bizarre nature of silent films, at least from our modern tastes is in the actors, and The Extraordinary Adventures… doesn’t disappoint in that regard. A tip of the hat to Podobed, whose goggle-eyed expressions are a treat, but the gang of crooks are definitely the biggest weirdos of the movie, which makes sense as they’re explosively violent, malicious perverts and that’s not the kind of behavior you want to support. Another big tip of the hat there to Aleksandra Khohkhlova as The Countess von Saks, who is one of the creepier looking characters in silent film with no effort whatsoever. If you ever wondered what Catherine O’Hara would look like as a sleep paralysis demon, look no further than this movie.

    There’s no such thing as an unbiased opinion. All art is a reflection of the background, the culture, the ideology of the artist, and that goes for the Soviet Union just as it does everywhere else in the world. What I find interesting however is just how differently the propaganda is approached. In American media Soviets were almost akin to the boogeyman; Shady figures working for shadowy overlords using tricks and subterfuge to bring about the fall of ‘western civilization’, or miserable thralls to said overlords. In The Extraordinary Adventures… however, while it doesn’t hide its opinion towards the American establishment, it doesn’t paint the American people with the same brush. While John West is a bit absent-minded he is also shown to be a forthright person, even courageous when the situation calls for it, and Jeddy is no different. They’re good people who just didn’t know better, and when they figure things out they are quick to rectify their mistake. The primary antagonists of the film are in fact internal; Remnants of the deposed empire like The Countess and those who have dropped out of society in order to prey upon others, certainly an issue for a fledgling state just starting out. There’s no need for fear-mongering in The Extraordinary Adventures… because Kuleshov and the crew aren’t afraid, and that relaxed confidence is admirable. Certainly so when compared to the more paranoid Western fare.

    The film does have an issue with pacing. The nature of films in the silent era meant frequent cuts to exposition cards, but the amount of times Kuleshov cuts a scene in order to introduce new characters (which also serves as a cast list) ends up feeling excessive, especially when some characters who aren’t that important to the story get one. There’s also an attempt at a romance subplot with Jeddy by the end which just doesn’t work. There’s a sort of setup for it, but once the main plot with West starts up Jeddy and his romantic interest barely get any screen time together before the end, and in the scant moments they do share there’s never any indication of romantic feelings, so when you get to the end there’s little emotional impact. It’s almost like they just wanted a cowboy in the movie without having a good plan to justify it, which is understandable because if I had the chance to make movies I’d do the exact same thing. 

    Music for this restored version of the film is provided by Robert Israel, a name familiar to those who have been keeping an eye on the silent film circuit. One size fits all type of soundtrack here, nothing all that exciting, although I do like the little Yankee Doodle leitmotif that pops in during a couple times with West. Gives it a bit of character.

    The Extraordinary Adventures of Mr. West in the Land of the Bolsheviks gets the recommendation. It’s got that screwball energy there, but at the core it’s a comedic cautionary tale about the importance of proper investigation and finding things out yourself rather than assuming, which I think is a good moral no matter who you are. If you’ve just got off of Bulbbul or Santa Sangre and looking for a palate cleanser, this is a good choice. Put on your flag socks and make an evening of it.

The Long Dark Marathon of the Soul 2018: Aelita (1924), directed by Yakov Protazanov

The Trailer

and

The Appropriate Tune: "Going to Mars (!)", by Judah & the Lion

       In the book HitchcockTruffaut, a thoroughly entertaining read on the art of filmmaking, there is a section in which legendary director Alfred Hitchcock laments the end of the silent age of film in the wake of ‘talkies’, in spite of his greatest work being in the latter category. Reason being, and I’m paraphrasing here, that by the end of their lifespan silent films had transcended their rough origins and achieved what was more or less a perfected state. This was cinema, visual storytelling in a way that no other medium at the time could match, and when speech was added the entire rules of the game changed. Suddenly movies were centered more around people talking to each other than it was about creating cinema, and many of the great silent film directors and actors weren’t able to adapt to the change. About the only one who did, at least in the mind of pop culture, was Alfred Hitchcock himself, whose experience in that foundational era of filmmaking no doubt contributed greatly to the development of what would become known as his distinctive directing style.

       I find myself agreeing with him, or at least the paraphrased version of him. Taking a look back on the silent films we’ve covered on this blog, Metropolis, The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari, Haxan (although the version I covered wasn’t technically silent), all of them ended up grabbing an easy recommendation. There is an artistry to these films, a primitive, otherworldly beauty that sets them apart from everything that came afterwards. Sure, there are plenty of great visually-oriented directors, but they just don’t have the same vibe, nor can you really expect them to considering the post-sound film world. Maybe that’s why things just didn’t feel right until I added a silent movie to the Marathon, because I was itching to return to that quiet place once again. John Krasinski not included.

       Released in 1924 and based on the work of Alexei Tolstoy, Aelita (also known as Aelita: Queen of Mars) begins quite matter-of-factly: On December 4, 1921, 6:27 Central European time, a mysterious message was picked up my radio stations all over the Earth: Anta Odeli Uta. No one is able to decipher the meaning of the words, but the radio station in Moscow theorizes that it came from Mars, an idea which intrigues Loss, the chief engineer. It’s so intriguing in fact that he starts dedicating all his time towards constructing a spacecraft in order to travel to Mars, neglecting certain aspects of his life like his wife Natasha. What Loss doesn’t know is that Mars is actually inhabited, a brutal society reigned over by the self-serving Queen Alieta and ruled over by Tuskub and his council of Elders, and that he’s happened to become a particular point of interest to the Queen. These two are destined by fate to collide, but the path to get there is even wilder than he might think.

       In classic science-fiction film tradition, although they introduce the idea of Aelita and the Mars society quite early, Aelita: Queen of Mars has far less in the way of sci-fi than the name would imply. In fact Mars and even Aelita herself don’t really come into play until this last 20 minutes or so, and even when it does the movie sort of runs through it pretty quickly. Instead most of this movie is taken up with Loss and Natasha’s unfolding domestic drama, and all the characters that are wrapped up in it. I’ve said it before in other entries, it’s the kind of thing that modern sci-fi fans likely aren’t used to, and might balk at given a runtime that leans towards the 2 hour mark, but if they were able to get through Westworld (the film) then they shouldn’t have an issue.

       It helps that the Earth-based story ends up proving to be pretty interesting, a winding series of incidents that seems akin to a Greek tragedy, with characters that are easily recognized and clearly defined (sometimes helped by certain actors playing dual roles). It makes it pretty easy to get invested in the goings-on, and you end up growing attached to the characters. Bumbling wannabe detective Kravtsov, stout-hearted veteran Gussev, poor Natasha, and of course the melancholic Loss (Nikolai Tsereteli cuts a very striking figure by the way), it almost feels like Protazanov was consciously trying to pack in as many people and as much action as he could without feeling it overwhelming. Reminds one a bit of Metropolis, another film that had no qualms about working with large groups of people.

       Speaking of Metropolis, although the Martian society is not featured as prominently as that futuristic city, it serves the same purpose as the artistic highlight of the film. Unlike the German Expressionist films of the time, with their bizarre perspectives and surrealistic architecture, the sleek stone palace of Mars is all straight lines and sharp angles, grand open rooms that seem to dwarf the people there. It’s as if the entire thing were sculpted from one gargantuan block of marble. The design of the Martians (specifically their clothing) by contrast is a little bit busy for my tastes, chiefly Romanesque in its design, but things like Ihoske the handmaid's wire-frame skirt is an nice touch of artistic continuity.

       My main issues with the film are twofold, although they could probably be better described as personal problems rather than film problems. The first is in regards to the music used in the version I saw, a piano accompaniment that seem ill suited for the emotional nuance that was being presented, although with this being a silent film presumably you could substitute it with a much more appropriate soundtrack. The second, more bothersome issue is the abundance of title cards. This is a plot and dialogue heavy film, and so naturally there are a lot of title cards to explain what’s going on.
As I’ve said my passion for the silent era stems from it being a much more visually-oriented style of filmmaking than it would later become, and it becomes a difficult to get immersed in the film’s world when there are constant cutaways from the action. It’s not as if they had much choice, this being 1924 and all, but despite knowing that it’s still slightly annoying. A pet peeve, perhaps.

       Aelita is not quite the titanic visual marvel that Metropolis is, nor the surrealist pioneer like Caligari, but nevertheless it gets a solid recommendation by me. Certainly worth a watch, as an entertaining experience and as a historically and artistically significant work of art. Even if you’ve grown up your whole life watching movies with people talking in them and you can’t imagine a world where they don’t, Halloween is the time of year to take a chance and try new things. Who knows? You might end up liking peace & quiet almost as much as I do.