I shall go across the snow-clad field.
I shall fly above the field of death.
One lies quiet where sabers mangled him.
Here lies one impaled by an arrow shaft.
From their wounds warm, red blood like rain was shed
On our native soil, or our Russian field.
He who fell for Russia in noble death
Shall be blessed by my kiss on his dead eyes.
And to him, brave lad, who remained alive,
I shall be a true wife, and a loving friend.
I’ll not be wed to a handsome man:
Earthly charm and beauty fast fade and die.
I’ll be wed to the man who’s brave.
Hark ye, warriors brave, lionhearted men.

From "The Battle on Ice" movement of Alexander Nevsky, Op. 78, a cantata by Sergei Prokofiev, based on his musical score for Eisenstein's film Alexander Nevsky.

It was less than a year ago that I finally got around to watching Sergei Eisenstein's classic film Alexander Nevsky, but I had known about it for over thirty years. Long before I became an avid film enthusiast, I fell in love with classical music. One of my favorite composers (along with Mahler, Bartok, and Stravinsky) is Sergei Prokofiev. Eisenstein's historical significance to the history of filmmaking may exceed Prokofiev's historical significance in music simply because filmmaking is so much younger as an art form, but the sheer quality of Prokofiev’s oeuvre certainly greatly exceeds what Eisenstein could have ever hoped to accomplish with his medium at such an early stage of development. In 1938, Eisenstein and Prokofiev were in similarly precarious standing with Stalin’s Soviet government. Eisenstein was persona non grata both because he had worked in America and because his 1936 film Bezhim Meadow had been criticized, condemned, and ultimately seized and destroyed by authorities for its failure to provide the requisite propaganda values. For his part, Prokofiev had returned to the Soviet Union in May, 1938 after an extended exile. Prokofiev was delighted when he was asked by Eisenstein to compose music for a film epic, Alexander Nevsky. Both of these great artists had long admired each others work and they set about their joint effort as a genuine collaboration.

Prokofiev was not merely handed a completed film for which to compose a score, as is the case with most soundtracks. Eisenstein provided him with film scene by scene as quickly as it was completed. Prokofiev then provided draft settings which the two men then discussed in detail. Eisenstein offered constructive criticisms and Prokofiev then made adjustments to the score accordingly. For some scenes, Eisenstein edited the film to fit music already composed by Prokofiev, most notably in parts of the great battle on the ice. Other than perhaps Fantasia and 2001: A Space Odyssey, there is probably no other film where the musical score is so much an equal partner to the film images. For those attuned to classical music especially, this film is as much a visual setting for a piece of music as a film with a musical score. The single finest point about Alexander Nevsky is the successful integration of masterful images with great music.

As you watch and listen to this film, note how Prokofiev uses musical themes and contrasting styles to highlight the great clash between the Russians and the Teutons. When the Russians are on screen, we hear mainly Russian folk melodies and warm and pleasing consonant harmonies. When the Teutons appear, the music is dominated by dark, harsh tones and pounding rhythms, featuring brass and woodwinds. The harmonies become dissonant and sometimes even polytonal. It is brilliant music and a large part of the success of this film. The collaboration between Eisenstein and Prokofiev on Alexander Nevsky proved to be the beginning of a long and successful relationship between these two geniuses that continued right up until Eisenstein's death in 1947.

Historical Context: Eisenstein introduced montage editing into filmmaking with his remarkable 1925 film The Battleship Potemkin (See my review at The Battleship Potemkin). Eisenstein was not only a great director but a great film theorist as well. Very few men have been both, making Eisenstein the rare case of a great film theorist who was then able to put his theories into practice. Eisenstein was probably the most persecuted director in the history of cinema to date. With the rise of Stalin, Eisenstein found it impossible to work in the manner that he wanted in the Soviet Union, so in 1930 he went to work in America at the invitation of the American novelist Upton Sinclair. His project was to be the creation of an epic about Mexico and its people, to be entitled Que Viva Mexico!. The filming was beset by financial overruns, partly because of Eisenstein notorious perfectionism. Sinclair became enraged by Eisenstein's inattention to cost limitations and shut the project down, confiscating the film footage that had been produced to that point. (Although this footage was later purchased by producer Sol Lesser, the resultant picture entitled Thunder Out of Mexico can hardly be qualified as an Eisenstein picture since Eisenstein’s technique, more than any other director, very much rested on the editing process.)

Eisenstein was so distraught by this disaster that he returned to Russia in a state of deep depression and isolated himself in the Caucasus mountains. When he emerged from his depression (incompletely since he suffered recurrent bouts for the rest of his life), he returned initially to his work as a theorist and film lecturer at the State Institute of Cinematography in Moscow, before finally taking up his next ambitious film project in 1935, entitled Bezhim Meadow. This, too, was to culminate in disaster. The subject matter of the film concerned an idealistic peasant leading a struggle against the hated Kulaks. Eisenstein had to battle smallpox and then influenza during the production and finally had to relinquish primary directing responsibilities, while continuing to spearhead the effort. The director of the Soviet Film Industry, Boris Shumyatsky, who censured more than one-third of all film produced in the Soviet Union in 1935 and 1936, took a special dislike to Bezhim Meadow. He denounced Eisenstein for indulging in "formalistic exercises." He lambasted him for producing works detached from "the colours and heroism of reality" and suppressing "the work's ideological content." In other words, Eisenstein's work was not seen as having adequate propaganda value. (Shumyatsky was executed in July 1938 proving that nobody was safe in Stalinist Russia no matter how pathetically submissive to Stalin's propaganda agenda.) Although Bezhim Meadow promoted Russian nationalism, the heroism that it glorified was that of the people, while Stalin required works glorifying great individual heroes that could be understood as symbolically representative of himself. Stalin was also infuriated by Eisenstein’s use of religious symbols in the film (though Eisenstein was himself an atheist) and his emphasis on scenic landscapes as backdrops. Under orders from Stalin, Bezhin Meadow was pulled from theaters and all copies of the film were destroyed.

So, by 1937, Eisenstein's career was in ruins despite his vast international prestige. To make matters worse, he had to appear as a witness at the so-called "Moscow Trials" by which the Soviet government purged the artistic community of intellectual dissidents, resulting in the executions of a number of members of the creative community. Eisenstein might very well have been executed as well, were it not for his international standing. At the same time, the clouds of war with Germany were looming on the western horizon. It was amidst these two contexts that Eisenstein's career was suddenly and surprisingly resurrected in 1938 when Stalin selected him to produce a work of great nationalist intensity that would rouse the Russian people against the potential threat of Germany.

The Story: Grand Duke Alexander Nevsky (1220-1263) was an historical figure whose real exploits have been undoubtedly expanded by legend. He received the honorary name "Nevsky" by routing an invading Swedish army at the mouth of the River Neva in 1240. Two years later, he led Russian forces against invading Teutonic Knights from Germany at a famous battle on Lake Chudskoye (now Lake Peipus) near Pskov. That much is fact. In later embellishment, he devoted his entire life to the service of Russia. He was ultimately canonized by the Russian Orthodox Church.

As the story opens, it is 1242 and Alexander (Nikolai Cherkassov) is in self-imposed exile in eastern Russian, living the quiet life of a fisherman. Russia is beset from all sides – by the Mongols on the east and the Teutonic Knights on the west. Alexander recognizes, however, that the Mongols pose a lesser threat because they mainly seek payments while interfering little in the life of the people. The Teutonic Knights, by contrast, are religious zealots who seek to bring all of Christendom under the Holy Roman Empire. Since the Russian people belong to the Russian Orthodox faith, the Teutonic Knights are bent on destruction of their culture and their annihilation as a people. The Mongols, who recognize Alexander's military genius, pay a visit to invite him to assume a position as a field commander in their forces, but Alexander declines, saying, "Better to die in your own land than to leave it."

The Teutonic Knights have invaded Russia from the west and one city after another has capitulated before the power of their onslaught. The latest to fall is the city of Pskov. After the city was taken by the Teutonic Knights, all of the inhabitants were slaughtered in the name of Christianity: old men hung, women burned at the stake, and children tossed into a burning pyre. All of this is shown graphically in the film and might be considered propaganda excess were it not for the fact that only a few years later, this kind of activity on the part of the Germans became reality, though the victims were Jews rather than Russians of Russian Orthodox persuasion. As it happened, what should have been excess turned out to be sadly prescient instead.

The only major city that remains free in western Russia is Novgorod, a prosperous center of commerce. With the fall of Pskov, Alexander realizes that the Teutonic Knights must be engaged or all of Russia will fall. Meanwhile, in Novgorod, the people debate whether they should prepare to fight or try to bargain with the enemy. A nobleman named Domash (Nikolai Arski) takes a stand and declares that they must fight. The populace agrees to fight if he will lead them but he wisely insists that they need a stronger leader than himself and one with more strategic experience. They need Prince Alexander Nevsky! A delegation is sent to see if Alexander will help with the defense of Novgorod. Alexander replies, "I know naught of defense. We will attack!" The charismatic Alexander arrives at Novgorod and advises the populace that he will require not only the troops of Novgorod and his own but they will need to mobilize and arm the peasantry as well.

Two noblemen of Novgorod who are also dear friends especially welcome Nevsky's call to arms. Although friends, Vassily Buslai (Nikolai Okhlopkov) and Gavrilo Olexich (Alexander Abrikosov) are also competitors for the hand of the lovely Olga (Vera Ivasbeva). Olga announces she will marry whichever most distinguishes himself in the battle. This love triangle provides the principal human interest element of the story. The Master Armourer of Novgorod, Ignat (Dmitri Orlov), provides weapons for the peasant conscripts. The Teutonic Knights, meanwhile, are approaching the city with the treacherous aid of the ex-mayor of Pskov, Tverdillo (S. Blinnikov)

The entire second half of the film portrays mainly the climatic battle at the ice of Lake Chudskoye, from the preparations and deployment of forces, to the initial engagement, the brutal combat, and the aftermath. After the battle has been decided, Eisenstein's camera lingers on many of the fallen soldiers who are near death as they pitifully cry out for their mothers, wives, or lovers. Eisenstein's overall structure for the battle scene was so effective that it has been imitated many times since, in such films as Spartacus, for example.

Themes: This being a film expressly commanded by Stalin for propaganda purposes, there need be no doubt about the principal theme: Russians good, Germans bad. Alexander Nevsky was commissioned by Stalin for the express purpose of mobilizing the sentiment of the Russian people against the pending threat of German invasion. Lest the message be lost on Hitler or his generals, the following is stated explicitly at the end: "He who comes to us sword in hand by the sword shall perish. On that our Russian land takes and will forever take its stand." Although the story of Alexander Nevsky is set in 1242, the parallels between the Teutonic Knights and the Nazis are made abundantly clear. The Teutonic Knights are a religious order determined to achieve purification of Christendom. The leader of the Teutonic Knights wears a helmet with a crest reminiscent of the Nazi swastika. The rest of the Teutonic Knights wear bucket-style helmets that largely hide their faces giving them an inhuman and almost mechanized appearance. Their attack strategy consists of rapid pincer actions similar to the blitzkriegs of the German forces. The corrupt priest that accompanies the Teutonic Knights contrasts sharply with the genuine spirituality of the Russian people, represented by their simple, earthy chants. The amazing thing is that even working under the absurd constraints imposed on him by Stalin’s policies, Eisenstein was able to produce a work of great artistic merit.

Shortly after the completed film reached the Soviet theaters, Stalin signed the ill-fated non-aggression pact with Germany. Under these new circumstances, Stalin could hardly permit the continued showing of the film, since it portrayed in unflattering terms the noblemen of Novgorod who preferred negotiations with the enemy to fighting. Later, however, when the Germans launched their campaign against Russia (Operation Barbarossa) in 1941, Stalin immediately ordered Alexander Nevsky back into theaters all across the country. Alexander Nevsky so pleased Stalin that it ultimately earned Eisenstein the high honor of "Order of Lenin."

Production Values: With Stalin's authority firmly behind the production of Alexander Nevsky, Eisenstein had uncommon access to the Soviet military, enabling him to stage the battle scenes with countless extras who could provide realistic simulation of hand-to-hand combat. Eisenstein produced a credible representation of medieval Russian life, from the costumes to the buildings and the style of weaponry and battle.

Character portrayals are not the strength of this film, overall. Among the characters, only Alexander and the two competitors for Olga, Vassily Buslai and Gavrilo Olexich, are sufficiently developed as personalities to stand out. The actors playing these three roles all do a highly commendable job, most notably Cherkassov as Prince Alexander.

As stated earlier, the ultimate beauty of this film lies in the marriage of dramatic images and great music. Prokofiev’s score for this film is arguably the greatest ever provided for any movie.

Bottom-Line: This is a film for which you need to be prepared to spend a bit more for the finest version available. Both the film quality and the sound quality of most prints is inferior to an extent that will seriously impact your viewing experience. There are also significant problems with the subtitles in most versions. The best choice if you are purchasing this film is clearly the Criterion boxed set called “Eisenstein: The Sound Years” that includes both of Eisenstein’s sound classics, Alexander Nevsky and Ivan the Terrible. The restoration process and the pristine transfer provide renderings of each of these films that are far superior to the worn and scratchy versions previously available. Moreover, this set is jam-packed with high quality extras – as fine a set of extras as you’ll encounter in any DVD package available. There are multiple essays covering such topics as Eisenstein’s life and art, the history of use of film for propaganda purposes, historical essays on Ivan the Terrible, an essay on Eisenstein's collaboration with Prokofiev, and an analysis of Eisenstein's famous visual style. There are even some still frames that survived from the destruction of Bezhin Meadow that provide a glimpse of what that film was like. There are also some materials deleted from Ivan the Terrible by Soviet censorship.


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You might want to check out these other excellent films from Russia and the U.S.S.R.:

Andrei Rublev
Anna Karenina
Ballad of a Soldier
Burnt By the Sun
Come and See
The Cranes Are Flying
Dersu Uzala
Don Quixote
Freeze Die
Ivan the Terrible
Moscow Does Not Believe in Tears
Nostalghia
Shadows of Forgotten Ancestors
Solaris
Strike
War and Peace


Recommended:
Yes

Video Occasion: Fit for Friday Evening
Suitability For Children: Not suitable for Children of any age