So, one bit of good news this week was that the public library system came through again on Белое солнце пустыни (White Sun of the Desert - ‘Beloe solntse pustyni’), a 1969 ‘Eastern’ (basically the Soviet Union’s answer to the American Western). It was with some trepidation that I watched it: I didn’t expect it to be too kind to Central Asian culture, given the prevailing attitudes of the time. But while there were a couple of wince-moments, it was a surprisingly enjoyable movie.
It must be said that the character of Said (Spartak Mishulin) makes the entire movie. Forget Jayne Cobb, Han Solo or the Man with No Name, they try too hard! Said is true Western bad-arsery incarnate: he’s always nonchalantly humming the same few bars from horseback, he always shows up when he’s needed, he always shoots (or throws) first, he never sees the need to explain himself in more than four or five words at a time, and no one ever gets the jump on him (except Abdulla, but he had his entire bandit gang with him, so it doesn’t count). The one thing I can’t figure in the writing is how that guy Javdet on whom Said had sworn vengeance was able to bury him up to his neck in the sand at the beginning of the movie without getting his behind whupped / shot / knifed / strangled a dozen times over by the nexus of sheer awesomeness that is Said.
The other protagonists are likeable and sympathetic, if a bit cliché: Fyodor Ivanovich Suhov (Anatoliy Kuznetsov), the weary war veteran / Soviet patriot who composes mental letters to his beloved gal-back-home (Raisa Kurkina); Pasha Vereshchagin (Pavel Luspekaev), the washed-up old customs officer who wants to go down in a blaze of glory; Petruhov (Nikolay Godovikov), the dutiful but green and lovestruck youngster; and Gyulchatay (Tatyana Fedotova), the spirited girl in the unfortunate position of being one of the bandit Abdulla’s wives. And of course, there are the three old aqsaqals sitting against the wall, who give Suhov the dynamite they’re sitting on and just watch the action unfold in bemused silence throughout the entire movie. Even Abdulla is not without some redeeming features (being as capable of wit and ironic understatement as the rest of the dramatis personae), even though he is undeniably ruthless and evil.
But the film, rather than being heavy-handed, feels sparse, and by turns melancholy and witty. Even the propaganda lines are delivered well, often with a sarcastic raised brow and a slight swagger by Suhov. Speaking of lines, the movie is incredibly quotable: ‘The East — a delicate matter’; ‘His grenades are the wrong type!’ ;‘Abdulla, save your bullets; you won’t have any to shoot yourself with’; and ‘Customs gives the OK!’. (This is bad for me, by the way; I’m an infamous movie-quoter.)
The action sometimes looks a bit corny from a modern viewpoint – there are points where you can tell they’ve spliced different shots together (sometimes not too neatly) to try to achieve the effect of an explosion or a gunshot. Also, the view of Central Asian society and culture is stereotypical and wince-worthy from time to time (but then, this is a Soviet film). But this movie has so many good points (Said!) that it is easy to overlook the wince moments. I enjoyed it; it’s very easy to see how it could become a cult classic.
No comments:
Post a Comment