Review: Andrei Rublev

For a film widely recognized as a cinematic masterpiece, Andrei Tarkovsky's Andrei Rublev failed to live up to its lofty expectations. The film follows the 15th century Russian monk and icon painter Andrei Rublev as he faces violence, political persecution and, eventually, a crisis of faith after leaving the monastery to paint a gothic cathedral's interior.

The violence, political persecution, and crisis of faith are evident throughout – but the movement from realism to transcendence was not so clear. In fact, besides the wonderful dialogue between the painter monk and other characters throughout the 3:25 minutes, coupled with striking cinematic photography, I fail to see where the divine can enter the conversation. Yes, the realism and human experience fits the transcendental definition outlined by Schrader, but the random execution and brutality of darkness fail to reach the divine and instead bathe in the depravity of human nature.

From Dreyer we were forced to understand human emotion encountering the divine. From Ozu we learned that sitting and breathing in the world around us can bring us into a reality we miss in our busy lives. And from Bresson we struggled with our freedom and learned to except what is given instead of taking what is desired. But what did we learn from Tarkovsky? I learned that sometimes long shots don’t bring transcendence, that a when a main character is missing from the story for too long it removes the element of continuity, and that violence sometimes is just violence.



I was praying for a Bresson montage during the violent scenes. Even Rocky had a montage! This may come to a surprise for those that know my favorites movies include Full Metal Jacket, The Killer, The Shining, and The Silence of the Lambs. But the long takes of death and pillage of war in Andrei Rublev was too much to bear at times. What was the point? War is evil? Okay, I get it. Thanks for opening my eyes, Tarkovsky. If this is what you choose to do with Bazin’s evolution of the image, I’d rather go visit Rublev’s iconography and find meaning in the stillness. Sweet, sweet stillness.

Review: Pickpocket

“The supernatural in film is only the real rendered more precise,” Bresson says. “Real things close up.” Schrader reminds us that Bresson’s viewpoint of the everyday reality consists of elimination rather than addition or assimilation; a reminder that is clearly seen in the renowned classic film Pickpocket.

Pickpocket is not a classic because of phenomenal acting performances or jam-packed action sequences, but rather the film is a classic because of the film as a whole, with an extremely well written script, and an exceptionally complex and layered lead character. And in the end, I agree with Joshua Lim’s connection that the “story is crucial” to Bresson’s achievement in Pickpocket.

One might be taken aback at the non-acting or static mundane shots of life. But they are life, the scenarios, dialogue, struggle and reality of life. Bresson draws the viewer into the film by removing the acting and action, only to have the story remain, in its skillfully crafted simplicity. The stark remainder makes the high points in the story higher, the low points lower, and the pivotal scenes breathtaking.


The moral journey in the film also grasps the transcendental style better than the films we have previously viewed in class. The pickpocket believes his worldview of bettering others with guile and skill brings balance and serves an ultimate good in the world. His belief is a selfish outlook that only sees his power and task at hand, rather than gaining a higher perspective where a love is waiting and a motive of sacrifice for others could be a goal greater than the ultimate lift.

The nature of a pickpocket is one of a taker. I loved that the story neatly unfolds that once the pickpocket learns to accept what is given and give of himself, he is finally free. Ironically behind bars, only able to clumsily smear his nose on his true love’s forehead.