The Battleship Potemkin (1925) is one of the great silent films. Directed by Sergei Eisenstein, it is notable for its highly dramatic portrayal of a mutiny on a Russian battleship in 1905, early in the Russian revolution. The film is relatively short (75 minutes) and is divided into five sections. One focuses on the mutiny and the death of its leader, another on how news of the mutineer's death provokes citizens of Odessa into a massive reaction, still another on how government troops massacre hundreds of citizens on the famous Odessa Steps, and another on a showdown between the Potemkin and the Russian navy. The massacre on the Odessa Steps is one of the great scenes in cinema—primarily for the balletic way in which it depicts the massacre, and for how it focuses on individual victims. It draws a stunning contrast between the inexorable and robotic march of the soldiers conducting the massacre and the deaths of various victims. The most famous image in the scene is of a baby carriage plummeting down the steps, baby still inside. Another image shows a mother clutching her wounded son, pleading to the oncoming troops to let her pass. They shoot her down.
I do not know enough about early film history to know exactly why this film is so admired, but I can speculate. First is Eisenstein's highly dramatic, sometimes epical, way of presenting the events of the film, connecting them to history, specifically the Russian revolution. Another is his use of unusual perspectives. On the Potemkin he uses a lot of overhead shots showing the sailors moiling back and forth on the deck of the ship. Another is simply his use of numerous distinctive human faces—peasants, aristocrats, the young and old, mothers with their children. There is a Hogarthian quality to the film, but these individual faces are meant to represent the individual faces of an uprising, of a national movement that will lead to revolution against the czar. Still another device is his ability to evoke suspense. This is most apparent in the final segment of the film, where the sailors of the Potemkin are waiting in suspense for the showdown with the squadron that is coming to confront them. Will the squadron attack, or will it join the Potemkin in rebellion? Eisenstein shows the crew of the Potemkin waiting—sleeping, talking, eating—always looking concerned—waiting to learn what will happen. By delaying the final showdown, he invests the film with suspense. The effect is highly successful.
The restored version of the film I watched used music by Dmitri Shostakovich to accompany the silent action. Shostakovich wrote the music well after the film was made, but it was extremely effective and only with difficulty can I imagine the film without that music in accompaniment. However, another restoration of the film is available with music by a different composer.
Film is a technological medium, and The Battleship Potemkin was made when film technology was still early in its development. The film is dated as a result, but it's easy to understand why it has had such an impact and reputation.
1 comment:
Wasn't Eisenstein the first to develop the now ubiquitous "montage" technique, in the "Odessa Steps" sequence? I was TA for a class on early cinema back in graduate school and remember our prof lecturing on it!
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