Alexandra (Aleksandr Sokurov, 2007)
Posted: Wed Mar 12, 2008 12:55 am
Wanted to establish a thread for this one as it deserves some extended consideration. I've seen it three times now and really I just marvel at the pure accomplishment of it. In many respects it's "standard Sokurov" if by that we mean a recognizable aesthetic conception but it's the concentrated intent that makes all the difference; here Sokurov excels and continues to refine his particular form.
What is most remarkable about the film is Sokurov's approach to the basic scenario itself. The fact that Alexandra could be described, more or less accurately, as the story of a grandmother visiting her grandson at an army base belies the great care and precision with which Sokurov presents the material. It also suggests just what kind of a nightmare we might have seen from just about any other director had they adapted it. Certainly, in the States, such a description could barely be made without the assumption that what one was describing was the latest family comedy. That Sokurov's approach is serious, though not unremittingly so, is the first indication of divergence from such standard expectations. Actually, though, this divergence is characteristic of Sokurov and makes Alexandra of a piece with his other work.
There is definitely a strain of absurdist humor at play here but Sokurov is well aware of its existence and turns it to his advantage, making it an agent of great, devastating pathos. There is, of course, nothing "realistic" about this story as presented, at least not in the way we have generally come to understand the term. Sokurov isn't interested in that and he isn't interested in self-contained expressions of whimsy either. The moments of lightness and fragility are always deeply felt, suggestive of larger truths. What he's really after is what can only be accessed through his deceptively simple set-up. It's necessary because he wants to explore the implications of that idea and its ultimate limitations.
Though obviously this is an examination of the disruptive power of female energy within a dominantly male province it's not as simple as that. What we see consistently is a community (the base and surrounding area) made up primarily of young men and much older, even matronly women. In other words this is a very specific type of relationship being considered. The disruption would be different, more predictable and less revelatory if the women were younger and more nubile. Obviously this isn't what interests Sokurov. Rather he focuses on the notion of servitude to an implied, though manifestly absent, paternal state. The soldiers are generally youthful because oblivious enthusiasm can be easily harnessed and channeled. It's also critical to note that Alexandra is not some embodiment of feminine weakness, easily positioned to counter a presumed, hegemonic masculine authority, particularly one prescribed by aggression. Rather she represents a female analogue to that notion of strength and power. She is definable by her fortitude and stalwartness. Her more conventionally feminine characteristics emerge filtered through what ultimately comes across as a capitulation to strength as necessity. This adds immeasurably to the complicated dynamic between her and young men training for war.
Beyond this, and in his own characteristic fashion, Sokurov wants to confront us with the essential qualities of acts of kindness, dignity and delicacy that exist at the center of relationships and drive them. He presents these things in his usual explicit fashion. Alexandra's presence disarms the soldiers who surrender their guard as it were, revealing the core of youthful energy we know exists in many soldiers but which it is the purpose of military discipline to subdue, often for the sake of their own survival (the soldier twirling his gun for Alexandra is one such moment of tenderness and personifies an exhilarating sensitivity to such detail). Her grandson, too, brings her inside one of his tanks and we see that this is done because of his pride in his position and, by extension, his possession. He wants her approval. Later, we see more of this with other soldiers falling under her sway, some finally even making her an elaborate meal. All of this plays as amusing but also remarkably genuine, a revelation of possible hidden depths.
For Sokurov the experience of military servitude can be propelled by the same deep sentiments that sustain family relations, and this is the control mechanism keeping Sokurov's vast sympathies in check. The ecstatic moments are those in which tenderness exceeds the boundaries of normative, prescribed behavior; they admit to a willingness to be carried away by an excess of feeling that may not be "rational" as it is usually understood but does befit the human experience and emerges as a vital, though often under-realized or denied, component element of the human character.
The scene in which Denis carries Alexandra across the base in his arms recalls Mother and Son, though this time the dire circumstances of the protagonists have been replaced by a dire context. There are other such moments: Denis braiding Alexandra's hair and, my favorite, the extraordinary, prolonged farewell in which the grandmother and her grandson spend an infinite moment with their eyes locked upon one another. This consideration of the potential depths of feeling between people in Sokurov's cinema is usually treated fairly brusquely by critics. It's always noted but what is not noted is his profound sophistication; the fact that he understands the limits when his characters do not. Anyone who thinks that Mother and Son for instance does not contain an implied auto-critique is simply not paying attention. And in Father and Son he is also quite cognizant of the way in which love can become a limiting, stultifying oppression rather than a force of liberating energy and joy. In Alexandra it is about the willingness to surrender to vulnerability, the strength it can take to reveal that part of the self when such a revelation does not come easy and is not automatically welcomed or pre-supposed. In this case, of course, there is the additional dimension of the looming issue of mortality, pronounced and in close proximity to both the protagonists. Their connection is made more immediate because of these things but the connection itself is seen as what is most vital to preserve, even in the face of these acknowledgments. Sokurov's respect for deep feeling, genuinely felt and lived, remains alongside that stance of ironic recognition.
I have tried for quite some time to pin down what it is about Sokurov's aesthetic that is so very unique to him. When I watch his films it's more of a feeling of subtle dislocation that makes the central dramatic moments more pronounced. While using Alexandra as my template I think I've gotten closer to pinpointing at least a couple of these elements. For one, there is the constant use of off screen sound, often only vaguely related to what we are watching. The sound mix, however, keeps these sounds prominent and does not subjugate them to the presumed dramatic centerpiece. Having said that, though, what is perhaps more significant is the way in which Sokurov does foreground the privileged moments of drama and intimacy. Peripheral characters often surround the central ones, but at a respectful distance, observing them and their interaction. But respectful of what? Well, I think this is the key: Sokurov's profound moments of intimacy are always presented to us as presentation. That this does not compromise the dramatic impact is significant enough but the reason it doesn't is because Sokurov is not trading in glib, banal self-consciousness. His presentations function as iconography (Angelopoulos also directs in a similar manner, though his characters are rarely allowed the kinds of indulgences Sokurov permits his); they act as a declaration of the necessity of preserving and revering these specific kinds of emotional moments, bonds and relationships--potentialities which are categorically human, though often rendered problematic within certain circumstances or when compromise is inevitable. In other words, these scenes represent an ideal of a sort.
There is an image within the stills section of the Russian DVD which captures Sokurov demonstrating the particularity of a specific embrace to his actors, one in which Denis places Alexandra's hand on his heart. In most cases this would be a failing as it would suggest an excess of control, an unwillingness to accept spontaneity within a scene which should, by most standards, play that way. But instead this image reveals the very heart of Sokurov's technique. His purpose is not some academic challenge to see whether we can still feel the moment despite it being overtly manipulated; rather, he is intent on a different goal: to give proper veneration to a core characteristic of humanity as captured within a posture, within a frame. The fact that such a moment is not "spontaneous" matters far less than that it is valuable and worth maintaining as a core element of human self-conceptualization. Its vitality and legitimacy is evidenced by the fact that these moments ring true and resonate deeply.
Here are a couple of fine pieces on this exceptional film:
One from KinoKultura and the other from Cinema Without Borders.
What is most remarkable about the film is Sokurov's approach to the basic scenario itself. The fact that Alexandra could be described, more or less accurately, as the story of a grandmother visiting her grandson at an army base belies the great care and precision with which Sokurov presents the material. It also suggests just what kind of a nightmare we might have seen from just about any other director had they adapted it. Certainly, in the States, such a description could barely be made without the assumption that what one was describing was the latest family comedy. That Sokurov's approach is serious, though not unremittingly so, is the first indication of divergence from such standard expectations. Actually, though, this divergence is characteristic of Sokurov and makes Alexandra of a piece with his other work.
There is definitely a strain of absurdist humor at play here but Sokurov is well aware of its existence and turns it to his advantage, making it an agent of great, devastating pathos. There is, of course, nothing "realistic" about this story as presented, at least not in the way we have generally come to understand the term. Sokurov isn't interested in that and he isn't interested in self-contained expressions of whimsy either. The moments of lightness and fragility are always deeply felt, suggestive of larger truths. What he's really after is what can only be accessed through his deceptively simple set-up. It's necessary because he wants to explore the implications of that idea and its ultimate limitations.
Though obviously this is an examination of the disruptive power of female energy within a dominantly male province it's not as simple as that. What we see consistently is a community (the base and surrounding area) made up primarily of young men and much older, even matronly women. In other words this is a very specific type of relationship being considered. The disruption would be different, more predictable and less revelatory if the women were younger and more nubile. Obviously this isn't what interests Sokurov. Rather he focuses on the notion of servitude to an implied, though manifestly absent, paternal state. The soldiers are generally youthful because oblivious enthusiasm can be easily harnessed and channeled. It's also critical to note that Alexandra is not some embodiment of feminine weakness, easily positioned to counter a presumed, hegemonic masculine authority, particularly one prescribed by aggression. Rather she represents a female analogue to that notion of strength and power. She is definable by her fortitude and stalwartness. Her more conventionally feminine characteristics emerge filtered through what ultimately comes across as a capitulation to strength as necessity. This adds immeasurably to the complicated dynamic between her and young men training for war.
Beyond this, and in his own characteristic fashion, Sokurov wants to confront us with the essential qualities of acts of kindness, dignity and delicacy that exist at the center of relationships and drive them. He presents these things in his usual explicit fashion. Alexandra's presence disarms the soldiers who surrender their guard as it were, revealing the core of youthful energy we know exists in many soldiers but which it is the purpose of military discipline to subdue, often for the sake of their own survival (the soldier twirling his gun for Alexandra is one such moment of tenderness and personifies an exhilarating sensitivity to such detail). Her grandson, too, brings her inside one of his tanks and we see that this is done because of his pride in his position and, by extension, his possession. He wants her approval. Later, we see more of this with other soldiers falling under her sway, some finally even making her an elaborate meal. All of this plays as amusing but also remarkably genuine, a revelation of possible hidden depths.
For Sokurov the experience of military servitude can be propelled by the same deep sentiments that sustain family relations, and this is the control mechanism keeping Sokurov's vast sympathies in check. The ecstatic moments are those in which tenderness exceeds the boundaries of normative, prescribed behavior; they admit to a willingness to be carried away by an excess of feeling that may not be "rational" as it is usually understood but does befit the human experience and emerges as a vital, though often under-realized or denied, component element of the human character.
The scene in which Denis carries Alexandra across the base in his arms recalls Mother and Son, though this time the dire circumstances of the protagonists have been replaced by a dire context. There are other such moments: Denis braiding Alexandra's hair and, my favorite, the extraordinary, prolonged farewell in which the grandmother and her grandson spend an infinite moment with their eyes locked upon one another. This consideration of the potential depths of feeling between people in Sokurov's cinema is usually treated fairly brusquely by critics. It's always noted but what is not noted is his profound sophistication; the fact that he understands the limits when his characters do not. Anyone who thinks that Mother and Son for instance does not contain an implied auto-critique is simply not paying attention. And in Father and Son he is also quite cognizant of the way in which love can become a limiting, stultifying oppression rather than a force of liberating energy and joy. In Alexandra it is about the willingness to surrender to vulnerability, the strength it can take to reveal that part of the self when such a revelation does not come easy and is not automatically welcomed or pre-supposed. In this case, of course, there is the additional dimension of the looming issue of mortality, pronounced and in close proximity to both the protagonists. Their connection is made more immediate because of these things but the connection itself is seen as what is most vital to preserve, even in the face of these acknowledgments. Sokurov's respect for deep feeling, genuinely felt and lived, remains alongside that stance of ironic recognition.
I have tried for quite some time to pin down what it is about Sokurov's aesthetic that is so very unique to him. When I watch his films it's more of a feeling of subtle dislocation that makes the central dramatic moments more pronounced. While using Alexandra as my template I think I've gotten closer to pinpointing at least a couple of these elements. For one, there is the constant use of off screen sound, often only vaguely related to what we are watching. The sound mix, however, keeps these sounds prominent and does not subjugate them to the presumed dramatic centerpiece. Having said that, though, what is perhaps more significant is the way in which Sokurov does foreground the privileged moments of drama and intimacy. Peripheral characters often surround the central ones, but at a respectful distance, observing them and their interaction. But respectful of what? Well, I think this is the key: Sokurov's profound moments of intimacy are always presented to us as presentation. That this does not compromise the dramatic impact is significant enough but the reason it doesn't is because Sokurov is not trading in glib, banal self-consciousness. His presentations function as iconography (Angelopoulos also directs in a similar manner, though his characters are rarely allowed the kinds of indulgences Sokurov permits his); they act as a declaration of the necessity of preserving and revering these specific kinds of emotional moments, bonds and relationships--potentialities which are categorically human, though often rendered problematic within certain circumstances or when compromise is inevitable. In other words, these scenes represent an ideal of a sort.
There is an image within the stills section of the Russian DVD which captures Sokurov demonstrating the particularity of a specific embrace to his actors, one in which Denis places Alexandra's hand on his heart. In most cases this would be a failing as it would suggest an excess of control, an unwillingness to accept spontaneity within a scene which should, by most standards, play that way. But instead this image reveals the very heart of Sokurov's technique. His purpose is not some academic challenge to see whether we can still feel the moment despite it being overtly manipulated; rather, he is intent on a different goal: to give proper veneration to a core characteristic of humanity as captured within a posture, within a frame. The fact that such a moment is not "spontaneous" matters far less than that it is valuable and worth maintaining as a core element of human self-conceptualization. Its vitality and legitimacy is evidenced by the fact that these moments ring true and resonate deeply.
Here are a couple of fine pieces on this exceptional film:
One from KinoKultura and the other from Cinema Without Borders.