Russian Ark (Russkiy kovcheg) is a remarkable, meditative wander through 300 years of Russian history, filmed by one solitary Steadicam which continually follows hundreds of actors through the halls, corridors and ballrooms of the State Hermitage Museum in Saint Petersburg. History mingles with the present and everything in between during one continuous shot as we are introduced to various characters from Russia's past and asked to observe a symbolic relationship between an unseen Russian and our European guide.
At the time of its release, Russian Ark was heralded as one of the most imaginative pieces of film-making ever conceived for its use of just one continuous shot and, perhaps even more remarkably, one take. Although this is a notable achievement, to concentrate only on how the film is made is to miss an intelligent treatment of a most convoluted and complex subject. Not only do we glimpse some of the most important historical figures of Russia — Peter the Great, Catherine the Great, Nicholas II, Pushkin — but through the interaction of an unseen interlocutor (actually Sokurov himself) and a curious, representative European (played by the well-known Russian theatre star Sergei Dreiden) we observe the aloof relationship between Russia and Europe, a subject that continues to shape the political climate as Russia continues its long trek in from the cold.
Filmed by Tilman Büttner, of Run, Lola, Run (1997) and Big Girls Don't Cry (2001), the grand eloquence of the Hermitage Museum is translated to the screen by the continuous shot, the camera diving in and out of actors, moving high and low around the rooms and weaving inside and out of the building itself. Admittedly, the technique takes some time to adjust to, the eye noticing too readily the traversing behind walls of the camera, the occasional glimpses towards the camera of an extra and other such in-betweens — the normal realm of the editor's suite; but such self-consciousness is negated overall by the steady glide of the camera. The juxtaposition of 90 minutes in real time tracking the portrayal of 300 years of history reveals the decision of shooting continuously to be an astonishing idea.
Two magnificent passages highlight the movement of the camera, the first as we follow Catherine the Great outdoors through her wintery exit along a snow-covered path, following the cold of Russia's dead from the World Wars. We follow the old matriarch as she patters her way through the cold, stumbling and muttering as she goes, revealing the distance between mortals and royalty. As we move through the snow, a depressing, sombre mood fills the screen: is this the wilderness in which Russia has resided these 300 years?
As the opulence continues to fade within the Hermitage and the October Revolution finally claims its desired victims, the last Grand Ball at the Winter Palace descends into the long goodbye; but not here are the heavily edited fragments of Eisenstein: instead, we follow the dancers and guests as they filter away from the hall, down the grand staircase and through the hallway to some unknown destination. 'Europe' stays behind and takes no part in this historical footnote and as the camera turns away from those leaving the hall, the Museum reveals its true self: it is an Ark, a refuge from outside influences containing everything a culture needs to preserve itself. Much more than being an ark, however, Russian Ark cuts a trajectory through Russia's past, literally forming an arc through those events and people that have brought the great wilderness to its current state.
The director of the State Hermitage Museum, Professor Mikhail Piotrovsky, summarises the achievements of the film succinctly in his production notes:
Russian Ark has proved to be an unusually dramatically intense narrative about the cultural history of Petersburgian Russia, about the eternal questions regarding the uniqueness, independence and significance of cultural life in a land which loves Europe and yet which is not a part of it.
Directed byAlexander Sokurov • imdb and
