Respect Your Eldar
An Eldar Ryazanov Retrospective
Introduction:
Happy New Year, this is my New Year's treat for you, an examination of the man that created 2 New Years classics, one less than great New Years film, and a boatload of other films that celebrate the joys of life, say what you want but it’s more festive than last year's challenge. This is the Eldar Ryazanov special.
Eldar Ryazanov established himself with this film after churning out a couple documentary projects and a joint collaboration with Sergei Gurov entitled Spring Voices, but boy does this feel like it was created by a master at the height of their powers. Obvious thing out of the way, this film is stunning to look at with a genuine pop to the colors that helps give life to both the performances on New Years and the behind of the scenes workings of the show, which of course certainly helps understand why the film is so vibrant since because it’s a dedication to those behind the scenes, the actual crew might as well be having fun. Not to mention the complete contrast of the vibrant color scheme embodied everywhere in the film with the gray suited, pale faced director of the program (masterfully played by Igor Ilyinsky), serving as an allegory for Stalinism censorship at the time in his focus on the approval of art rather than it’s meaning to the point where his rebuking of the actual joys of art is meet with defiant laughter. But yet the director is at whims with those who understand the true beauty of performance and that in it’s chaos it can appear anywhere. Perhaps in that of the librarian singing a tearful ballad or the normally stern lecturer performing a drunken dance after a few drinks, the film compares that special connection with creation that it all bursts out in a rhapsody of true and liberated joy. Which is not even mentioning how warm each character is portrayed where even the drab director is more sympathetic than anger-inducing because you have to remember, at the time, the USSR was more stern than anything and we can certainly imagine the stress of trying to appease everyone at the same time, regardless of potential consequences. It is a dearly empathetic work and a genuine blast of joy at the same time with never a dull moment in sight.
This was a fun if not nearly as spectacular film as Carnival Night and it’s really just a standard dramedy. As a drama, it’s nothing you haven’t seen before, teenagers in love try to search for each other in the city, they keep getting so close but are ultimately stopped every time and the girl wants to be this big star on stage. In fact this is almost set up like The Young Girls of Rochefort, down to the fact that it’s basically a musical. But I’ll say this, I really liked this too, I was continually invested in the characters and I was rooting for them the entire time because they’re honestly just charming, bumbling around life in search of their desires slowly nearing their wits’ end as the film gets further closer to the end. Though the reason I liked it was not that but rather with the comedic aspects of the film, the setpieces in this are wonderful and highlight how Ryazanov creates his side characters with a burst of life in them (there’s a particularly wonderful set piece when our lead male character is stuck in a bathroom that highlights this perfectly). And while I’m probably not going to revisit this anytime soon, it’s still a wonderful little charmer.
How Robinson Was Created was created for the anthology film, Absolutely Serious (the same film that brought forth Gaidai’s Dog Barbos and Unusual Cross and Bootleggers shorts) and I will say that the lack of English subs really decreases the value of this short for me since it’s mostly dialogue but based on what I did get it’s average. This definitely touches on the same themes as Carnival Night but in a more overtly cynical tone as Anatoli Papanov’s character continually tries to add redoes to a writer’s version of Robinson Crusoe to make it more state-friendly. Sergey Filippov is the writer here and his performance (alongside his opening tour help enhance the comedy) and Papanov is good here, even if he’s not at his best. And overall, this isn’t a terrible way to use up roughly 16 minutes (including the introduction) but Carnival Night touches on state censorship a lot better and is a lot more festive than this.
Speaking of things that are better than something else, The Man from Nowhere feels like a test drive for Ivan Vasilievich down to the black and white concussion opening and the fact that it stars Yuriy Yakolev. But The Man from Nowhere is at an inner-sanctum where it takes itself too seriously for a story about a tribesman (who certainly doesn’t age well now) learning about human culture at points that it doesn’t feel earned when it tries to address deep themes and too goofily to try to provide any satirical edge to itself. Comparing this to Ivan Vasilievich is unfair though because for all it’s comedic elements the latter is a pretty neurotic look at masculinity/order in Russia while The Man from Nowhere seems like it’s setting up satire but just doesn’t provide enough of any commentary especially with the scientific community which I felt some missed opportunities with or at least furthered the importance of the “villain” played by Papanov (who has 4 roles here). Though I can definitely say I was not bored at any point in this film and it’s probably silly for me to expect any satire in what’s obviously just a silly kids film. And the goofiness does create a almost chaotic edge at times, similar in vein to Gaidai’s own body of work with some of this film’s gags popping up in his films (the photographs coming to life for instance is later used in It Can’t Be), and Ryazanov packs in plenty of visual splendor too such as the scene where we see the tribe after Yakolev’s concussion that bursts with wonderful reds all over the frame alongside moments of inspired comedy bits (electricity hands) but when it tries to be more serious it feels like the film just hasn’t earned it that much. Overall, I want to like this more than I do and there’s certainly a lot going for it (and I haven’t even mentioned the good amount of star power this film has) but it just feels off in a way I can’t really describe.
Going from The Man from Nowhere to this feels like going from Boxcar Bertha to Mean Streets in terms of quality, The Man from Nowhere was a fine enough piece of entertainment but Ballad of a Hussar is a genuine masterpiece. Ryazanov’s film is a painting, perfectly framed and shot with the most precise of detail surrounded by humanity and action, all presented with the most delightfully comic sensibilities, at points even bordering on hangout film especially around the introduction of Yuri Yakovlev’s army as they drink and sing their way through their scene while Yakovlev tries to gain the affections of the mademoiselle, much to the chagrin of the disguised female soldier Shura, played wonderfully by Larisa Golubinka. And bouncing off that, this film is shockingly progressive in it’s gender politics in part of how accepting it is of the idea of a female soldier performing for the glory of her country. And now there’s surely something to be made with that and the desire to be accepted for one’s true self instead of hiding behind a front, especially in how it’s handled in Igor Ilyinsky’s only scene where he accepts Shura as a soldier despite her being a woman because he knows she is still a valuable fighter either way (by the way, Ilyinsky is fantastic in this and it’s shocking how delightfully memorable he makes himself despite being in one scene). But outside of that, this is also a tremendous tour de force of comedy, action, music, and heroism; slowly rising to a grand climax at the remains of Shura’s mansion (interpretations could be made saying that symbol is representative of an abandonment of an old and stricter Russia but I digress). All in all, a staggering work of beauty and one I’m surprised doesn’t get as much discussion as it should, even as a piece of more mainstream Russian cinema.
After the colorful burst of energy that is Ballad of a Hussar, Ryazanov directed a more casual film focusing on the revamping of a restaurant, spurred on by the journalist that gave it a bad review, into a restaurant for the youth of Russia. The film has this calm and almost deadpan vibe to it that, while it takes a while to latch on to, brings a good amount of charm to the whole thing, mainly because of the great performances of everyone involved. Special shoutouts have to go to Anatoly Papanov as the restaurant manager and Georgiy Vitsin, Yuri Nikulin, & Yevgeny Morgunov (playing versions of their famous trio of antiheroes created by Leonid Gaidai) who are all wonderful bursts of energy. And the story itself is a good satire on cutting away from traditions and paving a more joyous future. That said, part of me had hoped this would turn into a spiritual successor to Carnival Night (especially since Boris Laskin wrote for both films) and there’s moments that capture that joyous feeling that Carnival Night gave me but based on Ryazanov’s statement that it was meant to be a “satirical everyday comedy”, I can’t really fault it for that since it very much succeeded in what it wanted to do. But I also have to say that the love story element of it boggles it down a couple notches mainly because I don’t buy the buildup that much and it feels like it was just added for the audiences’ sake. Overall though I really do think I’m missing something with this one and if I can ever get a properly subbed copy (rather than relying on auto-generated subs), I’ll gladly give it another chance.
The film opens with a shot of a man in a hat and trenchcoat ascending on a rising platform, drenched in shadows as he prepares to steal a car. An unforgettable shot and while the narration in this opening establishes the comic tone perfectly, that single shot tells the viewer that this is going to be rooted in Noir territory. Ryazanov’s ode to crime stories is also a satirical mockery of the justice system, questioning why it is that the thief in the story (who acts as a modern day Robin Hood) is actively on the side of justice more than the system that lets swindlers get away with their crimes. And Innokenty Smoktunovsky’s thief is a rather sympathetic character; a lover, a good worker, a skillful amateur actor (his role as Hamlet no doubt probably inspired by Smoktunovsky’s titular performance of the 1964 version), and not at all greedy, as he donates his money to children’s homes. In any other film he’d be a model citizen in a standard Soviet film but as typical in a Noir, one’s actions must always catch up to them and here comes Oleg Yefrenov as the cop assigned to the case. And while he is certainly a good individual, his path to justice is painted with a fatalistic touch as he realizes that the law will go after his friend regardless of his intentions. But yet despite that doomed setup, the film is most enjoyed purely as entertainment because this is a special kind of magical featuring an array of memorable side characters that populate Ryazanov’s world (indeed this is really true of all his works), an exciting mix of humorous action & genuinely tense setpieces, and an enormous warmth for it’s world that will make even the most cynical viewers crack a smile. And while it lacks the astounding color cinematography of Ryazanov’s other masterpieces, it more than makes up for it with striking black and white direction that makes each frame a true painting. My highest recommendation.
Ryazanov has thus far come under a pattern of creating a masterpiece and then a rather average comedy afterwards and this does follow up that pattern but with one difference, Yevgeny Leonov. Ryazanov’s other films have thus far had great casts (especially Igor Ilyisniky in 2 of his earlier films), Leonov brings a charm to a generally pretty scummy person that you can’t help but be warmed by, even as he steals money from his colleagues. And if there is one thing this film does well, it’s allowing everyone to some little detail that adds to their role in the story (although not as well as Ryazanov’s better works). However, as I said in the opening line this is still average and it’s more bittersweet than actually funny with the only really memorable joke being the running gag of one worker’s husband angrily moving out their furniture with him only to return again completely apologetic. And while the film gives us reasons why they might need this money, there’s no sense of urgency that should come from a film like this, especially because the New Years setting should act as some of deadline (although they might have brought it up, I can’t say for sure because the subtitles I used were terrible). It’s a fine enough film and the direction is again really solid (the shots of the holiday season in this are really beautiful) but Carnival Night is still a much better New Years movie.
Grandads-Robbers is a genuinely heartfelt and beautifully comic look at the lives of those that society generally ignores, the old folks. Anchored by the tremendous performances of Yuriy Nikulin and Evgeny Evistgneev as old men who refuse to retire, the film uses this setup as a launching pad for an examination at what those past their supposed prime will do to prove themselves, only for life to deny them that satisfaction. But the film doesn’t mock them for their failures because they’re still honest folks who only intend to prove themselves as capable as the younger folks and interestingly enough, this is most seen in the tone of the film; a mix between loving romance, satirical digs at the prestige of the upper class, and occasionally surreal bits of comedy (that nightmare sequence especially is more creative than it has any right to be). And that gives the film a youthful energy to it that is comparable to the younger hero focused films of Ryazanov’s earlier films. And with that energy is a sense of perseverance and not letting yourself fall victim to the abandonment of society, in fact the romance itself is based around regaining purpose in life as Nikulin and Olga Aroseva (who serves as the moral center of the story) fall in love years after losing their partners. All in all, this is a deeply endearing movie with a genuine heart and plenty of genuinely good comedy.
The forum here hates It’s a Mad Mad Mad Mad World and while I have some nostalgic fondness for it, I understand why, especially with the argument that it gets too bloated. But if you want a tremendous and rather brisk comedy on the subject of greed, Ryazanov’s take isn’t a bad option especially considering he took inspiration from IaMx4W. A collaboration with Dino De Laurentiis Productions, Ryazanov and his co-writer, Emil Bragnisky, teamed up with Franco Castellano and Pipolo and the result is a madcap clash between Italian insanity and Russian satire and for my money is Ryazanov’s funniest film. Gag after gag, building on each other at a mile a second rate that rarely tires itself out. The closest comparison I could make is Gaidai’s 12 Chairs but even then it still has Ryazanov and Bragnisky’s sense of genuine humanity that something like 12 Chairs all but denies it’s viewers by the end. Not to mention this is maybe the hottest cast in cinema history, Antonia Santilli alone is a glamorous delight but the real highlight is Andrei Mironov as the “tour guide” who works surprisingly well as a straight man while adding a wondrous energy to his performance (helped by the fact that he did all of his stunts himself). A true underseen gem in every single way.
“The world rests on optimists,” if any singular sentence could sum up Ryazanov’s filmography thus far it would be this. His most famous films are centered around hope for our characters, whoever they may be, and even if they are denied time and time again, they still persist and nowhere is this better shown then Office Romance. Anatoly is a rather anxious man and an average working man who, while certainly not lacking companionship, dreams of better opportunities, he is the victim of a failed marriage leaving him with 2 sons that has to take care of by himself. Ludmila has the power that Anatoly so desperately yearns for but she herself is lonely and unhappy; out of fashion, dull, and stern to the point where her employees give her the nickname “Meany. Their lives are rather mundane, almost colorless but through each other, although rather shocking to each other, they both discover different sides of themselves, Anatoly becoming loud and boisterous, more in control some might say, while the otherwise collected Ludmila begins to start stuttering and act more nervous like Anatoly had been around her near the beginning. The first genuine bit of color in the film amid a mundane color palette, is seen as they go to settle their differences after a chaotic encounter at a party in the form of the brighter colors of the outdoor balcony where Ludmila starts to open up. But the most important bit of color comes when Anatoly gives flowers to Ludmila, their colorfulness stands out, the first true color in both of their lives in their office and one that cements their true love. Of course Ryazanov’s film is still effortlessly funny, helped by his array of gags (one standout being the running gags surrounding payments for one worker’s jubilee that resolves itself in the funniest possible conclusion) but the warmth he brings is what makes his films so lovely, especially here because it shows that those that otherwise wouldn’t be the stars of a rom-com, still can have their happy ending.
This is a film that will most certainly warrant a rewatch with the amount of stuff Ryazanov and Bragnisky effortlessly pack into a surprisingly compact 1hr and 40 minutes but as is this still an effortlessly wonderful ensemble piece. Ryazanov’s films are first and foremost character-driven works and his experienced work with ensembles is truly magnificent. Part of me is reminded of a video essay on Tati’s work which states that Tati only really needs to give his characters one or two defining characteristics in order for them to stand out and that is the sort of principle that this film has, from the empathetic Malayeva to the Groom that is worried about missing out on his own wedding night to the man sleeping through the entire film (played by Eldar Ryazanov himself), each character is well defined and the audience immediately gets who they are, even those in the film who don’t have any speaking role still are interesting enough that they still make an impression. And once the setup of everyone is done, the film locks our characters in the museum room that we’ll be stuck in for the rest of it as the plot transforms into an almost Bunuel style take of 12 Angry Men that highlights the problems inherent with collectives, for example the taxidermy animals indicative of a beast trapped within us that will eventually be release. But throughout it all, there’s still a warm spirit throughout it that prevents the film from becoming too cynical (there’s a couple of really good examples in this but I implore everyone to watch this blind because that’s truly the best way to watch this one) and again it helps to determine that Ryazanov’s cinema is ultimately one of perseverance. Again this is another one that would be best for future discussion because my god it’s an excellent film with a lot of depth but as is, it’s a genuine masterwork.
Certainly doesn’t live up to the high expectations left after watching The Garage (in part because I again had to rely on auto-generated subs for my copy which dampened my viewing experience) but as viewed in the context of Ryazanov’s work, this is a surprisingly angrier work than the previous works of his. Don’t get me wrong, Ryazanov still exhibits his titular warmth that makes his works so lovely, with an emphasis on the value of honor and nobility in the face of corruption, but he is much angrier with the bureaucracy and the effects of their wickedness. Oleg Basilashvili’s role is the main point of hatred, a slimy man who tries and manipulates the hussars into executing a rebel while trying to get with the daughter of the actor he’s using as the rebel is about as dishonorable as they come but he charms his way through the film nonetheless, almost to the point where we don’t even register at the first couple of moments that he’s the villain. And with that there’s a commentary present on the fate of men like him, where a major point of contention is with a a parrot openly declaring the tsar a fool and riling up the other parrots to do the same, it’s a funny scene sure but it also emphasizes how we as a society shouldn’t let people like the Captain be unpunished and rather choose to revolt against him, whether through action or ignorance, and in turn allows us to become better/more honorable men in the process. And even if they don’t end up getting stopped, time will catch up with them, leaving them forgotten. Besides that though, this is still a really good comedy, filled with delightful moments on top of one another and is consistently entertaining, but I still advise finding some subtitles (I believe the DVD has some).
If there’s one thing I’ve learned throughout this venture it’s that I’m just a sap for romance. This is an utterly charming little film and a wonderful piece of Soviet entertainment starring Lyudmila Gurchenko (who for folks keeping up with this marathon, will know was in Carnival Night aka the film that started it all) and she alongside Oleg Basilashvili are wonderfully charming in their roles. I want to say more, maybe give in some critical analysis but sometimes a pipe is a pipe and this is just a lovely romance. Although I must admit the flashbacks to prison life seem rather unnecessary at points, I like them and the style that they’re presented in but sometimes they just pop up out of nowhere though it’s a minor film in an otherwise lovely delight.
There’s no freedom found more than in death itself. Ryazanov’s film (based on the famed story “Without a Dowry”) is unrelentingly pessimistic and angry in it’s attitude towards love, a far cry from the optimistic nature of Ryazanov’s prior films. Larissa is not a woman or a character, she is, as she describes herself, an object, for all the other men in the film to use. She’s a thing for the men to place their desires onto and no better can that be found in than Andrey Myagkov’s utterly deplorable role, a insecure and weak man (almost akin to his role in Office Romance except portrayed in a more negative light), without any intellectual or moral benefit, obsessed with a woman who he wants all to himself. And yet by a cruel twist of fate, he’s the man that marries Larissa, leaving her trapped with a man she can’t bring herself to ever love. And even as she is given a chance to escape away with a man she truly loves, the story refuses to yield to romance story expectations. A key thing to note though is the continued imagery of seagulls throughout the film, obviously a symbol of freedom that Larissa so desperately yearns for but it also brings up possible connections with folkloric meanings of innocence with the spring and the warmth of the Sun, similar to the portrayal of Larissa throughout the film. And Ryazanov’s fury is directed towards the question of why she can't be free, and in the process creates a genuine feminist masterpiece on the turmoil that women in these marriages suffer under. This and Railway Station for Two couldn’t be more apart.
At this point in Ryazanov’s filmography, the USSR was changing and reforming into a new age, a more open era of society that also foreshadowed the end of the Union and Ryazanov fueled this into an openly satirical, at points surreal, and more sexual film than any of his previous films but in order to understand that, the best point of comparison would be the 1988 film, Zerograd (especially since they both star Leonid Filliad). Both generally seem to center around an man of pure business forced into situations that he can’t comprend, in Zerograd it’s of logic (the constantly unraveling and complicated string of events leaving our lead confused at every turn) and here it’s of emotion (Filliad’s character suddenly forced to grapple with the consequences that stem from having an affair leading him to try which he attempts to solve by choosing between business or personal love with either choice leaving him unhappy). And both center around the death of the Soviet supremacy of the businessman, especially in Ryazanov’s film since he has several encounters with death, in an age of unheralded freedom. But at the same time, Zerograd is dry to it’s core, even as moments that would otherwise be seen as emotional become darkly comic setpieces while Forgotten Tune is a film that is more energetic, especially as life begins to open up for Filliad into moments of expression, of uncontrollable actions performed by an otherwise secure man. And this concept turns into an exploration the harm of the old values, of how traditional organizations restrict genuine expressions not just in one’s art, but in the emotions of those involved in them, spoilers here but the climax of the film is about how Filliad’s character is ultimately unable to stay with Lida but instead be forced into just sitting by while she leaves to never see him again. It’s a sad climax but it cements that so long as Filliad’s character stays in his business of bureaucrats, he will never be truly happy.
My thoughts have been replaced by a boiling anger, not because the film is bad but because it’s so unrelentingly cruel. Sure Ryazanov’s A Cruel Romance was also tragically bleak and angry but this is on another level because we do spend more time with the titular center of innocence, a beloved and kind math teacher living alone while her sick mother is made to stay at a hospital. And when some of her students come and visit her on her birthday, she’s overwhelmed with joy but throughout the course of the film, that joy is removed slowly, almost calculatingly, out of her system until that genuinely horrific and ultimately saddening climax happens. The premise itself is also similar to The Garage, centering around an ultimatum of whether to give the students the ability to change their grades or let them fail but remain honest, although as the film goes along that second idea all but dies out. Ryazanov’s critique is about the destruction of the old USSR amid rapid changes and what happens when business comes before humanity but by having the antagonistic forces be right in our faces, it seems more personal, more depressing. This is the new way and this is what it paves. And while The Garage and this are dramatically different films, they’re both centered around the topic of how people act when a situation gets more and more complicated and the animalistic nature that comes from being stuck in a situation that you can’t leave. Although like I said, this is a far far more pessimistic film and it just keeps getting darker and darker as the group of teenagers’ descend into degeneracy (of course there’s also Lyalya who acts as another area of sympathy but she too is not immune to corruption even if not willingly). It really is a painful critique of the fall of the USSR and one that will definitely not be for everyone.
The USSR was nearing it’s end when Ryazanov made Promised Heaven so it’s only fitting that Ryazanov’s film focuses on those practically on their deathbed. At this point he had a whole range of actors working with him and he used that to his advantage, all of them obviously older but no less comedically adept, a mentality extended to the film itself. The characters try to build meaningful relationships throughout the film (one particularly funny segment being a wedding with Oleg Basilashvili’s character and a much younger woman) but it’s obvious all they really have is each other and their small part of the world. And while the film is ultimately tragic in it’s satire of society’s attitude to those past their prime, it still is a charmingly fun film, filled with a touch of magical realism that occurs throughout the film and genuinely fantastic bits of comedy (there’s one really wonderful gag when the two old women get kicked out of the old folks’ cafeteria that caught me off guard in the best of ways) with an earnest love of it’s central characters and their connection in their own world in their own world. And it really is Ryazanov’s true swan song to the era where he thrived in and that final scene is a joyous ode to not only the stars of Soviet cinema but of Soviet cinema itself, leaving in an ancient vehicle of smoke and steam flying off into a sky of dreams and magic.
Ryazanov made other films after Promised Heaven including a sequel to Carnival Night but for the purposes of time (I had a very busy December), we’ll ignore them and go into what I planned to be the final film either way, the crown jewel of New Years films. And with the expectations of this basically being the Soviet “It’s a Wonderful Life”, it’s not hard to see why one would be scared of this film not equaling the expectations given but this more than equaled what I expected. I daresay that it’s a genuinely perfect film and one that feels like both Bragnisky and Ryazanov at the height of their powers. At once a pointed satire of modern Soviet architecture and a celebration of those who preside in it; an exploration of the destruction that fate can bring but also the joy that it also can give; at points effortlessly humorless and at others easily able to craft cathartic, emotional, and tear jerkingly sad moments, sometimes in the same scene. I implore everyone this New Years season to watch this because this is a film that works best without knowing much and letting it take its course. And as a finale to the Ryazanov works, there really isn’t anything better to have ended on, combining the optimistic joy, music, genre tropes, slapstick comedy, and characterization that have been everywhere throughout Ryazanov’s works on the day that Ryazanov always captured the vibes of the best in all it’s warmth and heartache. Although be advised, I watched this with my family so that most definitely made me biased since a lot was listening to them recollect memories about their lives as Soviets.