When
Ringan Ledwidge built his recent video for Massive Attack on a
fragment of Żuławski's Possesion,
cinephiles' most frequent reaction was eager recognition even though
the muted emotions of Rosamund Pike, her posing to pleasant music
with an all-too-clean underpass for the the background, sanitized
practically everything that made the original scene so remarkable.
Undertaking film adaptation of Musorgsky's opera Andrzej Żuławski
realized that music can easily supress Pushkin's lyrics, and operatic
conventions with numerous domes and golden attire can undermine the
drama of the plot. Tarkovsky understood this, too. In an attempt to
save his own 1983 rendering of the opera from becoming tales of
yesteryear and a grand trifle he introduced it with a well-known
anecdote about Stalin and Yudina in the programmes.
Żuławski never put political agenda first. Probably that is why in
his film Soviet-like soldiers march by the fence that calls to mind
the iconic photos of Nazi concentration camps, Polish nobility is
somewhat cleaner but perhaps even more repulsive that Russian boyars.
And all of them fevereshly rush into the abyss. Just about to join
them is the film crew which is quite often seen on the screen.
Żuławski doesn't shy away from theater (“Art is related to the
artificial,” he says.), he seems to rather enjoy revealing
conventions while erasing not only the border between cinematic and
theatrical, but also between art and life. No wonder travelling shot
along the crowd of actors-townsmen rhymes with a similar shot of the
“audience”. The real audience isn't safe either since the camera
strives to involve them into what's going on on the screen and on the
set, his part becomes unclear. The faces are shot with rapidly moving
camera and become blurred as well. The film is particularly rough on
conservative opera lovers. At the heart of almost any opera (and
various “operatic” films like The
Godfather
or Visconti's films) is disposition to nostalgia and idealisation of
the past that are entirely alien to Żuławski. Hence the mud that
actors have to wade through, the infamous Fool's bucket and that is
why the messy orchestration by Musorgsky suits the film much better
than the common smooth and sleek Rimsky-Korsakov's version.
Discomforting like all Żuławski's films, Boris Godunov sometimes
resembles Eisenstein's Ivan
the Terrible
(especially in the fantastic decorations of the sets) or
Powell-Pressburger's Les
Contes d'Hoffmann
(the rebellious colors and conscious play with theatricality), but is
in fact apart from all director's oeuvre and other musical cinema.
Original is here. The text was translated for the Warsaw FIPRESCI project. Unfortunately, just when I recieved a formal invitation I had to decline it. So here it is.
Тэкст быў перакладзены для ўдзелу ў Warsaw FIPRESCI project. Ад паездкі, на жаль, давялося адмовіцца, але пераклады я вырашыў размясціць тут.
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