My knowledge of Russian films has always been rather sparse. Having never really bothered to have researched or dived into any classics. For most, filmmaker Andrei Tarkovsky sits at the top of the nation's most-known creatives, though his works haven't particularly appealed to me all that much. Films riddled with slow cinematography and metaphors can be nice, but don't particularly speak of any narrative or real life experience, they can lack the fundamental eliments of humanity that allow us to connect and feel when watching a film.
'The Cranes Are Flying' is a Russian film of the past that most certainly does manage to make you feel, in fact, it's a film that thrives on your emotions. As it progresses it almost feels as if it aims to make you feel empty inside; to have lost; to have suffered; and to have felt what it was like to have been Russian during such a fragile era, one that resulted in countless tales similar. Where loss was a common feeling among civilians of both towns and villages.
The self-sacrifice of war
Incredible sums of men willingly volunteered their lives to the 2nd World War, a sense of honour, protection, and curiosity led to them casually leaving behind all they had. The Cranes Are Flying closely follows a couple deeply in love and close to marriage. Particularly the character Veronika, as her lover signs away his life to go to war, leaving her behind and vulnerable.
The act itself is selfish, and the film despite its era does not fear displaying this act as anything less. And it thrives on using the war as a method of justifying numerous actions from Veronika as she loses faith in her relationship and begins to seek elsewhere, as close as the very family she was already part of. The act is heartless, and throughout the film we can't help but feel the dread and anger that one would feel if they'd found out their lover had given up while one fought and killed to protect them.
Each scene feels to be intentionally creating shame and anger, intense emotion from unique perspectives and a display of obvious regret; however, we can't help as the viewer to forget that both parties have betrayed the other. Ultimately, the film's main narrative portraying the utter tragedy of war and how it impacts those we love the most.
The impressive beauty of The Cranes Are Flying
For a film from 1957, The Cranes Are Flying is utterly beautiful. Its cinematography capable of putting many modern releases to shame with its artistic methods of composition and camera movements. An easily-overlooked composition being one that shows our protagonist Veronika from above, displaying her emotional weakness without her lover, and the fragility of her personality as she's easily manipulated.
The camera following through unique environments that place depth between the viewer and Veronika as she desperately searches for news from her lover, that he might still be alive and attempting to write letters to her despite her actions of betrayal. How she weaves between crowds of people as the camera follows by the side, simply adding to the emotional weight she's carrying as those around her still cling to their loved ones.
Such seperation between character and both foreground and background is powerful, and simply not used enough to this day. The ability to show such emotion and tragedy without the need for words is again what adds to this film. Where characters visibly display their shame, where there simply are no words capable of portraying guilt, loss, and fear for the future.
I found myself really captivated by the ways the camera interacted with its environments and characters. And throughout the heartache of its narrative, wanting more and more.
The hatred for war
While the film's central focus appears to be around the betrayal of lovers, the manipulation of those left behind and vulnerable, it's instead a tale that focuses on the tragedy of war itself. How those who volunteered to leave everything behind did abandon those they loved, but out of a feeling of necessity in order to protect them, so that they could live and thrive under a victorious post-war life.
It's a film that displays two victims of war, how one gave away their life, and other gave away their heart. How society should not forget of those who suffered in order to provide safety and freedom to the future. But how war itself was the evil that led to such sacrifices, and should be avoided at all costs. It's patriotic to some degree, but without the narrative that war had any positive outcome on anyone.
It makes you angry throughought, but ensures that your anger goes towards the realisation that war should be avoided, how a society can rebuild and heal, but the people can't. It portrays war in the closest manner it can for most: from the perspective of everyday individuals. From the eyes of those who are most affected by it, and those people can be you, me, or our friends and family.
For one of the first real Russian films I had seen, I felt both sympathy for its people, and a longing for more of its cinematic creativity that's often ignored.
