Yawn. Poorly Filmed Snooze Fest.

Waste of time

the audience applauded

Pretty Good

Although the few talkies Eisenstein made are often noted as being much different than his silent, I did find many traces of Eisenstein's trademark visual style all throughout this masterpiece. Brief flickers of genius, artistic filmmaking were present multiple times, and much of it felt like a silent film with words (if THAT makes any sense). Eisenstein was no doubt an extremely visual filmmaking, and although his few talkies certainly DO have a lot of talking, sometimes their visuals convey even more.Various images sprinkled throughout this film shall likely remain in my cinematic memory for years to come. Ivan's haunting shadow looming behind him in an almost ghostly manner, the many close ups of Ivan, showing off actor Nikolay Cherkasov's bizarrely creepy and unique face. These Gothic images tell a story of conflict and pain that is at times relentlessly dark and tragic. This is a powerful and haunting epic, a film injected with an indescribable real-yet-somehow-surreal type atmosphere, and the same mood as a German Expressionist horror film crossed with a David Lean blockbuster

While still a remarkable production, ITT-1 doesn't nearly reach the peaks of excellence of its namesake and sequel ITT-2. Technically is still great, a visual masterpiece, but there are several factors—natural or logical, fruit of the circumstances, etc—preventing it from becoming the classic the later is. For one thing, its episodic nature, which robs the film of an adequate building up of tensions, an emotional crescendo, culminating in a spectacular denouement as we see in the sequel, in those unforgettable dance & Church scenes. That's the problem with episodic plots, that much of the tension generated and accumulated in each episode, or that lingering from previous ones, dissolves during it, even more when closure comes with that ending, which leaves for the next episode the task of starting building tensions and focusing once again. We may compare both ITT-1 and 2, with two race cars starting both from the same point and then car 2 accelerating until reaching its maximum speed while car 1 goes stopping every hundred feet. That's what happens here with ITT-1 and its sequel. That's why the sequel is more exciting to watch, at it's far more focused, more tightly weaved as a story.The best ex. of what I'm saying about ITT-1 is the war on Kazan. It happens, then we never hear of it again, not even as a memory, its only contribution to the main plot line having been that establishes Ivan as a smart, strong and powerful conqueror, and that also informs us on the origins on the great trust he'll put later on the three men on which he would base his Oprishkina, the Basmanovs and Malyuta. That's very informative, of course, something we had to know, but it shows also the price ITT-1 pays for having come out first; for making possible for the sequel to be such an epic, as it's the one in charge of preparing the terrain for it, developing those themes and elements that will come to heed in the second part, the conflicts that will come clashing to the open. Different, unrelated, elements have to be gradually brought together to complete the required palette of characters and events. That's the task of ITT-1 and that's what makes its writing so dispersed and its action so unfocused.But apart from that there are also some flaws in the editing, the directing, that at times practically take us out of what should be the mood of the moment. For ex., the brush of Ivan with death comes immediately after his victory in Kazan; there's absolutely no transition there, no triumphal return to his people, like we see in Alexander Nevsky. Ivan wins the battle and next he's dying in bed (BTW, it's just me or that was just a trick to weasel out those he shouldn't trust? Come on, one moment he's dying and the next he's running around making speeches). Also the whole sequence is way too long, with and excruciatingly slow pace at times, which works against the pacing of the whole movie, as it totally clashes with that of the previous, the assault of Kazan. So, transitions are not always smooth here, many are even bumpy, abrupt, as if entire scenes had been edited out. That happens for ex. with Anastasia's death: she drinks the poisoned liquid and next we are already in her funeral.Despite all its faults, ITT-1 still makes for one movie worth watching, especially if you have already seen the sequel. Technically is still impeccable, the same attention to detail by the director; the same allegoric surroundings we see in ITT-2—after all both unfold in the same environment, the Czar's palace, the church, etc. Also present here are the trademark close ups on the purposely lighted faces of the actors, the focus on their expressionist eye movements and the middle shots exposing them against a background of deliberately chosen imagery—-as the fresco of a cadaverous face, a human skull, on a wall during funeral; the ever present combinations of light and shadows to create the expected mood. Also, contrary to other reviewers, I love these pompous, grandiloquent characters, so self-conscious all, who when talking seem to be pronouncing every one of their words for the Ages; each one seeming to believe they have some transcendental truth to communicate, some divine mission to accomplish, as they keep mentioning God as if certain that God was on their side. For someone more or less familiar with the works of Dostoevsky, Tolstoy, nothing less than what we see here is what we expect from a Russian epic, in the acting department. The only one I didn't quite like it is Nazvanov. He overacts most of his scenes, so much so at time he gave me the impression of watching a mime, a ballet dancer, rather than an actor.In all, technically as great as the sequel, and so the acting, but the pacing, the editing, the score, suffer somewhat, not the least because of official State meddling--Eisenstein wanted to begin the movie with the scenes of the young Ivan, but Stalin considered too depressing. 7.5/10.

In the times of Stalinist monstrosity, what could one expect from the Soviet movies was sheer propaganda, pictures of no individuals with their complexities but of the nation, the masses as a supreme hero. In the early 1940s, Sergei Eisenstein's choice to make a film about the tsarist Russia occurred a hard task to handle as an ambiguous production with ambiguous targets. Although the Soviet art, at that time, was a little more open to represent the historical figures (obviously shaping them to the 'appropriate values' widely imposed upon artistic visions), the unpopular tsarist Russia depicted on the screen was, anyway, challenging at multiple levels. One had to be content with less than planned... Yet, thanks to director's flexibility in the politically correct opening and closing, IVAN THE TERRIBLE's world popularity nowadays is nothing but a shadow of its initial acclaim in the Soviet Union.The prologue, though reflects clearly the ideal of the times, leads us to the close-up of regalia at the magnificent Cathedral of the Dormition where the coronation of prince Ivan takes place. We see the shining crown before we see his face, we hear the blissful chants before he hear his words. He becomes the new tsar – the man, the monarch, the uniting ruler who appealed to the depraved mind of Joseph Stalin in his idea of controlling the masses. Is he, similarly, the man who wants power for himself? Is he the ruler of terror in the 'third Rome?' Is there any disguise in the nation's 'father' who will reject the conspiracies against his authority? A nationalist who rejects the foreign pressures on internal politics? The man who does not want to be influenced by foreign ideas?Although the historical Ivan (1530-1584) was, perhaps, such a 'cosmopolitan ruler' (speaking in today's terms), the movie IVAN THE TERRIBLE is none of these. While it inevitably appears to be the product of the politics that examined and limited it, the movie is foremost the manifestation of Eisenstein's creative contribution to cinema influenced by various foreign trends observed in the first half of the 20th century. The film immediately raised the interest worldwide (Charlie Chaplin championed it as "the greatest historic film that has ever been made"), there is still, after all these years, hardly any movie which has been debated so widely by film scholars. Eisenstein proved that cinema can truly serve the task of intellectual stimulation by his baroque vision, his symbolism, his experience with various studies (as Yuri Tsivian mentions that in his book about the film). But when we leave all the learned notes and consider this film from a fresh perspective...with modern habits and desire for entertainment?The key strength of the movie lies in the use of images, the unforgettable, haunting, nightmarish, unforgettable visuals that seem to evoke a variety of feelings. Deeply influenced by German Expressionism, much visual attention is stirred by light and shadow...let me note one of the most powerful scenes when the shadow of Ivan's head occurs to dominate all the set. The bizarre wardrobe worn particularly by the foreigners in the coronation scene go with the perception of the plot and introduce symbols in a powerful manner. What is familiar and what is weird? The atmospheric impressions reach their climax at the tsar mourning his beloved wife, Anastasia Romanovna, already placed in the coffin located at the superior position. That characterizes the most memorable moments of the film, including Ivan's illness, the noteworthy wedding scene, the Kazan sequence.Another great artistic merit of the movie is sometimes traditional, sometimes melancholic, sometimes haunted yet considerably operatic music by Eisenstein's eminent collaborator and a reliable friend, Sergei Prokofiev, an icon Russian musician of the 20th century. The music seems to combine many elements and appears to make a significant contribution to both the storyline and the atmosphere. Andrew Grossman nicely puts it: "We cannot speak of Ivan the Terrible without mentioning Prokofiev's peerlessly melodic score (...), which, like the film's acting style, often provides a kind of counterpoint to the action." A 1981 New York Times review adds about Prokofiev's music as "weighted with insistent significance, like the limited but exaggerated masque gestures and expressions found in Eisenstein's cinematic faces." Here, a mention must be made of Russian folk songs nicely adapted at the wedding scene as well as the blissful Russian Orthodox liturgy.The performances are, perhaps, the most flawed aspect of the film, the most flawed which does not mean unworthy attention. Of course, the standards of acting cannot be applied to modern ones and the approach is considerably theatrical and dated. Nikolai Cherkasov fits well to the role and portrays the character of an 'eccentric bird' (consider the symbols of animals incorporated in some characters) convincingly. He portrays a ruler who unfurls his wings like a bird and begins to walk his own path. Among the supporting cast, I consider Lyudmila Tselikovskaya worth attention as the loyal, gentle, beautiful tsarina. A good character, a sympathetic one, loyal to the tsar from the very day of the wedding! In opposition comes the devil-like, the snake Efrosinia, tsar's wicked aunt who wants her son as an heir to the throne. She, as a 'black' villain, evokes certain mechanism in our perceptions, stimulates us by her gestures (with reference to Meyerhold's biomechanics that Eisenstein had studied). She is clearly a character easily to be despised. Mikhail Nazvanov is also given a considerable time on the screen as the foxy prince Kurbsky.IVAN THE TERRIBLE PART I, as a historic movie, a Russian classic, a gem with some dated approach may indeed rouse and stimulate modern visions. Still more 'national' than 'individual' but interesting in overall view. The acceptance granted by the monsters in power at the time opened the door to a more complex development of the man who stands behind the upright visions, perhaps, a man in wrong places, at the wrong time, among wrong people? Content with less...?

Eisenstein's devotees seem to be split into two camps: those who prefer his earlier, silent, more formalistic exercises like Potemkin and those who are more partial to the later sound films. Though I haven't yet seen Alexander Nevsky, my recent first viewing of the wartime Ivan will probably put me firmly in the second category. Much as I admire and respect his early works, no Eisenstein viewing up until now has hit me with the sheer joy of the form, storytelling and acting like this 2-part masterpiece made amazingly enough in the latter part of World War II. It's really quite astonishing that a large budget spectacle like this could have been conceived and executed so well in a country besieged....as the French Children of Paradise is in some ways a national epic given more gravity by the circumstances of its birth, so too we cannot help but look at Ivan as an exercise in the national will -- or at least Stalin's.And certainly in Part I there is much to make the mad leader proud. Ivan is willful, prone to snap decisions, but cunning and charismatic, a born ruler it seems. This first film mostly deals with Ivan's consolidation of power, with the courting of allies -- and his wife-to-be Alexandra and the crushing of enemies, most notably in the exciting siege of Kazan, where Ivan himself comes up with the idea to fill tunnels under the city with gunpowder, and where he shows a compassionate side -- not to be seen often, though not insignificant -- in reprimanding his commander Kurbsky for unnecessary brutality. We also see the power wielded by the Tsar's aunt Efrosina who is in most respects the central antagonist of both films, as she plots to have her own son on the throne while Ivan lies sick. At the end, Ivan loses both his wife and his power, leaving Moscow and vowing only to return when the people want him to.The storytelling is fluid and exciting and I had little trouble following the many plot strands despite a limited knowledge of 16th century Russian history; a big part of Eisenstein's genius in these films is in his (as always) extraordinary rhythmic editing and in an obsessive attention to detail that rivals anything seen in the cinema before or since. Every shot is suffused with poetry and meaning...the religious imagery everywhere, the animalistic symbolism embodied in Ivan (the hawk), Efrosina (the snake) and other characters, the regular movement from claustrophobia both physical and of the mind to open and huge spaces....this is both one of the most beautiful and overstuffed, sumptuous films ever made. My poor description isn't going to be up to the task; and I haven't yet even mentioned the acting, which is certainly theatrical and over-the-top in some ways, but in the best Orson Welles sense of that phrase. Indeed, of all actors only Welles to my mind could have competed with Nikolia Cherkassov in the central role of Ivan; and of all directors beside Eisenstein perhaps only Welles could have managed to weld the artifices of film, theater, pantomime and music together so organically. That music -- by then-rehabilitated Dmitri Shostakovich -- is powerful as well, though to my mind not as memorable as Prokofiev's work on Nevsky though I usually valued the former composer more highly; it's great music but it rarely comes to the forefront -- perhaps it just doesn't need to, with so many other elements competing with it in the vast filled-up canvas of the film.The Criterion DVD showcases an absolutely superb print of the film, indeed it is one of the best-looking, best-preserved films of the period I have ever seen, razor sharp and crystal clear and clean. I didn't have time to go through all of the extras as I was just renting it but rest assured I will when I eventually buy it. This is one of half-dozen most powerful experiences I've had watching something at home, a classic that more than lives up to its high reputation.