Film Review
The intolerable heartache of war has never been more palpably rendered
that in Grigori Chukhrai's
Ballad of
a Soldier, one of a series of films made in the Soviet Union
after the death of Joseph Stalin that reflected on the human cost of
WWII. In a similar vein to Mikhail Kalatozov's earlier
The Cranes are Flying (1957),
the film benefited from a relaxation of censorship that accompanied the
all too brief Khrushchev Thaw and shows, with heartrending poignancy,
how lives are disfigured and destroyed by war. After long decades
in which Soviet cinema was rigidly controlled by the state and
consisted almost entirely of pro-Communist propaganda, audiences could
at last enjoy authentic slices of life that reflected how they
themselves felt.
Chukhrai's film was phenomenally successful, attracting an audience of
over 30 million in the Soviet Union and winning its director that most
prestigious of Soviet honours, the Lenin Prize.
Ballad of a Soldier was just as
rapturously received when it was seen in the West, winning not only the
Special Jury Prize at Cannes in 1960 but also the 1961 BAFTA for Best
Film. This may be Chukhrai's best-known film but it was not his
first. He had previously directed another notable wartime drama,
The Forty-first (1956), which had
also won him a prize at Cannes. A Soviet war veteran who had
served with distinction in WWII, Chukhrai made good use of his
firsthand experience of military life in many of his films, and this
accounts not only for their striking realism but also their intense
humanity. Chukhrai presumably lost many close friends through the
war and
Ballad of a Soldier
impresses as a deeply felt elegiac tribute to the fallen he had known.
Not only is
Ballad of a Soldier
a flawlessly executed piece of cinema, photographed and edited with
breathtaking artistry, it is also a profoundly moving reflection on the
tragedy of war that is absolutely drenched in genuine human
feeling. Instead of the forced saccharine sentimentality we are
accustomed to seeing in comparable American films of this era, this
film offers a much purer form of emotional involvement, one that is
spiritual and cleansing. At the time, the West perceived Soviets
as soulless automata, slaves to a misguided and dangerous
ideology. This film paints a very different picture, giving a
starkly human face to Communist Russia. If, by the end of the
film, your face is awash with tears, it is not through some cynical
directorial sleight of hand, but because what it presents is a thing of
devastating truth, one that transcends culture, language and time.
The film owes much of its searing emotional impact to the casting of
the (then) unknown actors Vladimir Ivashov and Zhanna Prokhorenko in
the lead roles of Alyosha and Shura. Neither actor had appeared
in a film before this and their lack of experience was a positive
asset, bringing a raw naturalistic quality to their portrayals of a
nervous but dedicated young soldier and the stray girl he meets on a
train. After this, Ivashov and Prokhorenko would both go on
to enjoy long and successful acting careers in the Soviet Union, but
here there is a special alchemy to their on-screen rapport. In
the film's most spectacular sequence, a series of overlapping close-ups
edited into an alluring dream, Chukhrai makes us aware of the
powerful feelings that are drawing their characters together, a bond
that will be suddenly and brutally severed in the following scene,
which ranks as one of the most devastating in Soviet cinema. More
than half a century after it was made,
Ballad of a Soldier still has the
power to make grown men weep - such is the folly of war.
© James Travers 2014
The above content is owned by frenchfilms.org and must not be copied.
Film Synopsis
During World War Two, Alexei Nikolaevich Skvortsov, a 19-year-old
Russian soldier, destroys two enemy tanks single-handedly when he is
taken by surprise. He is offered a decoration for his valour but
he asks only to be allowed to return to his home village, to see his
widowed mother and repair the roof on her house. Alexei is given
six days, ample time to make the return trip and fulfil his errand - or
so he thinks. On the way, the young soldier's compassion for his
fellow man causes him to delay his return. He meets another
soldier, a sad wreck of a man who has lost one of his legs in battle
and who cannot face being a burden to his wife. On a freight
train, Alexei then meets a young woman of his own age, Shura, with whom
he forms an immediate bond of attachment. The girl tells the
soldier that she is on her way to visit her fiancé, a pilot who
is recovering in hospital. After being briefly separated, the two
young people meet up a second time, and the girl confesses that she is
not engaged. It is with a heavy heart that Alexei leaves Shura,
knowing he will never see her again, so that he can complete his
journey. Once again, fate is not kind to Alexei. A German
bombardment destroys the bridge his train is just about to cross.
He must complete the journey by road. Will he reach his mother
before his time runs out...?
© James Travers
The above content is owned by frenchfilms.org and must not be copied.