Petrov and Vasechkin

I couldn’t for the life of me figure out which category of post to file this under, eventually deciding to just relax and not categorise it at all. It’s very much its own thing, as with its subject matter.

As what happened with Fanny and Alexander, these are two films that were also aired as miniseries. The version of The Adventures of Petrov and Vasechkin that I will link to below I believe to be the film, whereas Petrov and Vasechkin’s Vacation is the miniseries. The runtime of both pretty much match what is listed with online resources, so the miniseries versions clearly aren’t longer cuts or anything.

They just sliced them down the middle.

Both films have an episodic vibe to them anyway, so my staccato viewing (without English subtitles or dub), over the course of about a month, felt natural. I just dipped in and out whenever I had 5 minutes spare. You know, in my hectic schedule of, erm, sitting around watching crap.

Right, “What on Earth are you on about, Jim?!”, you’re probably asking by now. Well, these are two Russian family films that appear to follow the musical adventures of a pair of energetic schoolboys, the titular Petrov and Vasechkin, along with their pigtailed gal-pal Masha. The latter seems to keep the boys’ craziness in check, while also providing some mild romantic interest. This the young girl is fine with, as she clearly adores her two classmates, even just as friends. Aww! So that’s a general naive overview for you of both epics (over 2 hours a piece!), but the films themselves couldn’t be more different if they tried.

And they do try.

The Adventures of Petrov and Vasechkin (1983), has the boys breaking up the mundanity of school life by rocking out in a band, performing a stage play, and simply slipping off into fantasy. I like that their band is fronted by a flamboyant Elton John-type on piano, with their gymnasium rehearsal space having to be cleared regularly for, you know, actual PE lessons to take place. I get the feeling that the musical numbers are meant to act as wannabe music videos for their band’s real songs, only incorporated into the general beats of the storyline. No pun intended. This visual swirling together of musical fantasy and reality could very well have been an inspiration for Flight of the Conchords, indeed!

But probably not.

Petrov and Vasechkin’s Vacation probably speaks for itself. The boys take time off school and bugger off to the coast for sun and surf, consorting with the rustic locals as they prance around rhythmically. The musical numbers have multiplied this time, with my starting to feel lost when another didn’t start a minute after the previous. Seriously, the songwriters and choreographers must have been exhausted by the end of production! Vasechkin is now pining after multiple girls and goes on a Don Quixote-inspired adventure on his own, while Petrov seems to be doing… something. His plotline doesn’t stand out so well, I guess. Unless I kept mixing the two boys up, which, given my poor eyesight, is very likely.

I’ve only watched the two films once, with my jumpy viewing experience meaning I will have missed a few things.

There aren’t many grown-ups in Petrov and Vasechkin’s world, less so in the first one. The centrepiece stage play appears to be lacking a drama teacher, which is amusing in itself. Children don’t usually have the organisational skills to produce something so lavish. Unless they do and adults just never trust them with it. Who is to say. Well, probably parents and teachers and anyone who’s ever witnessed a shambolic live stage production slapped together by a bunch of clueless elves.

The director of both films, Vladimir Alenikov, appears to be “the Ridley Scott of Russia”, which is no bad thing. The Adventures of Petrov and Vasechkin features copious amounts of shaft-lighting, smoke machines, and cameras regularly angled stylishly to capture the length of a set. There’s a bit of Jonathan Demme thrown in there too, with Alenikov getting around the kids accidentally looking at the camera by having them stare down the barrel of the lens constantly. I love that cheat. Petrov and Vasechkin’s Vacation has a warmer vibe, obviously intended to compliment its pastoral goings on, and shot largely outdoors. Again, they have their own unique tones, both visually and musically.

I initially assumed the second film was made a decade earlier, as the music is very ABBA and the actors look slightly different, so I was surprised to learn that it was actually made in 1984, directly after the first. The clothes certainly look like 1970s throwbacks too, with the costume designer having found the tiniest denim shorts allowed by law. You will find yourself having to avert your eyes a few times.

Cough.

My favourite moment out of the two films, which comes towards the end of the second one, has Petrov attempting to wake Vasechkin up after the two have spent the night in a tent. Simple nudging fails to work, so Petrov pinches his friend’s nose and covers the boy’s mouth with his other hand. This provokes a perfectly natural panic reaction from Vasechkin, but at least it works. The comedic timing is perfect. I suppose it is technically a rather dark moment, but hilarious if you enjoy a splash of twisted humour.

Our two leads, Dmitriy Barkov and Egor Druzhinin, respectively, are just fabulous, with Druzhinin in particular a dancing and singing natural. Whatever that implies. It’s sad they didn’t produce any further films, although, given that puberty was clearly knocking on the door by the end, it’s probably best the two boys and their adventures are locked in an idyllic time and place.

The Adventures of Petrov and Vasechkin (1983) can be found here.

Petrov and Vasechkin’s Vacation (1984) can be found here.

I had an absolute blast watching both films, even without knowing exactly what was going on. This just goes to show the strong grasp of the language of cinema director Alenikov had. Both works, while long in runtime, race along at a stunning pace. Never have musicals had the pace of an action movie quite like this. At least not in my experience. These are musicals for people who don’t like musicals.

They will truly brighten your day and soul. I genuinely wished they would never end, which is probably why I took so long to get through them.

Do stay in touch, darlings.

Poka!

Jim’s Shaft Trilogy Movie Marathon, Can You Dig It?!

A viewing experience a long time in the coming, due either to some form of unintentional, subconscious racism, or simply due to the films being set in the 1970s, the decade that taste and style forgot. I dearly hope it’s the latter. A lack of distribution in snowy-white England may also have been an issue, as, even today, the boxset now in my possession had to come from mainland Europe. 

While the fine details of John Shaft and his adventures weren’t well-known to me prior to my sitting down to experience them today, the iconic theme song, by Isaac Hayes, certainly was. I’ve heard parodies of it multiple times, across multiple platforms, from other films, to TV shows, and even podcasts. I know there are now two reboots that exist, confusingly also called “Shaft”, but I have little-to-no interest in those.

I’ll try not to discuss racial politics as best I can, even though the films appear to bring it up themselves. I’m just not educated enough in that area to do the subject justice. All I’ll say is that, after returning from a holiday in America, a friend informed me that, still to this day, you can cut the racial tension there with a knife. What with the country voting in elderly right-wing lunatics as their leader, I can only assume another civil war is on its way.

As with all my movie marathon posts, this will be a “living document”, in that I’ll be writing it as I go along. Not always though, which should go some way into explaining the confused tense used. You know, instead of just pure incompetence. I’ll also avoid backtracking as much as possible, only doing so in order to clean up my usual poor grammar.

Anyway, on that note, let us flip the detective agency’s sign from CLOSED to OPEN and see what cases saunter on in.

SHAFT (1971)

“I’m supposed to take you to visit a lady. Come on.”

“I haven’t finished my espresso.”

I generally don’t find forced-“cool” to be particularly cool, instead preferring moments, like the above dry exchange, to be much more refined in the art of coolness. There are many moments like this in the original Shaft, which is what I enjoyed the most about it. Protracted scenes of characters stood around talking usually don’t make for great cinema, but these scenes are laced with so much menace and tension that I feared my television would break under the stress. They should be taught in schools like Shakespeare. Wouldn’t that be great?! 8-year-olds being able to quote Shaft verbatim! The answer is “yes”. The actual action scenes are sparse and Howard Hawks/John Carpenter-brief, but they are well staged. The story, about our hero being hired to locate a rich man’s kidnapped daughter, is the average stuff of private detective fiction, but that’s fine. The simple case even blows-up into something bigger, threatening to incite a race war. I appreciated the scene where Shaft gives money to a shivering little street urchin, which aided in deepening Shaft’s character. He’s a complicated man, after all. The film doesn’t need this scene, but it’s there all the same. The final infiltration of the villain’s lair surely inspired Brian De Palma as much as Alfred Hitchcock, with the set piece’s music reminding me of Elliot Goldenthal’s scoring of the finale bank heist in Michael Mann’s Heat. I’m glad the two sex scenes didn’t go on too long, as gratuitous love making in movies is not welcome by this reviewer. I prefer the two art forms to be kept separate. Keep awkward groping out of cinema, and keep thoughtful cinematography out of porn. Deal? Deal. Overall, Shaft’s laconic pace often threatened to detach my concentration, but, after taking a brief powder to reinvigorate myself, I returned with glee. A thoroughly enjoyable experience indeed! Right, let’s up the “whakka-chikka-whakka-chikka” for…

SHAFT’S BIG SCORE! (1972)

“You oughtn’t talk to a lady that way! Where’s your fucking manners anyway?!”

Preach it, sister! Now the aspect ratio widens, as does the visual ambition of director Gordon Parks. While the gritty atmosphere of the first film sure was, erm, gritty, I’m a cinephile who prefers their slick framing/blocking. This all means the chaotic intimacy has gone, but I admire Parks for not trying to repeat himself. After all, this one does largely take place in the homes of the wealthy, which doesn’t work well in a documentary style. The plot is as inexplicably complex as the aforementioned Hawks’ own The Big Sleep, but I quite enjoyed being baffled by the goings on. Richard Roundtree’s titular “hero” is less honourable this time, with one scene in particular, where he beats up a mafioso out of revenge, lowering him to the status of a common thug. Two wrongs don’t make a right, John. Tsk, tsk. I initially thought said clarinet-playing mafioso was being portrayed by Alex Rocco or Sydney Pollack, but it’s some other dude. I guess you can’t have everything. The love scene is, once again, mercifully brief but genuinely erotic. Perhaps I’m going, ahem, “soft” in my old age. I enjoyed the jazz-based, rather than funk, musical score, which just goes to show that Parks wanted a different vibe to this one. There’s also a classic 70s car + boat + helicopter chase, which is always welcome. That’s the one thing Barry Lyndon definitely lacked! By the end, I still had no bloody idea what was going on, but this fact never stifled my enjoyment or made me want to cut today’s marathon short. Oh and the film features the one and only upper-floor apartment in the universe with a rear entrance. Go figure. Anyway, let’s get packing for…

SHAFT IN AFRICA (1973)

“Uptown dude like me, [they’ll] spot me a mile away.”

“Not if you’re briefed in tribal ways.”

Sigh. Ever since learning of the Shaft trilogy as a dumb teenager, I’ve yearned to see this one the most. I mean, just look at that title! Such glorious schlock. Saying that, it did bring to mind the embarrassing imperialist adventure films of the early-20th century, but I’ve always assumed none of that regrettable stuff would feature here. Well, as it turns out, we’ve lost Gordon Parks this time, being replaced by John Guillermin, the caucasian director behind the 1976 King Kong remake, Death on the Nile, and multiple Tarzan movies. Oh good grief. Now I’m worried! Yes, folks, Shaft has officially been sucked up by the Hollywood machine. We don’t even hear a black character speak until 7 minutes in, not until we’ve witnessed one being chased down and executed, like an animal, by white people. I said I wouldn’t naively bring up racial politics in the post, but this one’s really pushing me. The film mentions female circumcision twice, which is two times too many. I mean WTF?! The action is upped, but these moments are nowhere near as riveting as the subtle dialogue exchanges of its predecessors. Guillermin shoots as flatly as if he were making a sitcom, with none of the personality of Parks’ world. I’m now halfway through as I type these words, but struggling to continue. This is not a “Shaft” film, it’s something… ugly. The black characters here are merely a curiosity to the white filmmakers who have somehow infiltrated the series. End of story. I dearly hope Roundtree was strongarmed into returning out of contractual obligation. I haven’t read anything about the making of it, so there’s always the chance this was a passion project for the actor, but I sincerely doubt it. I did eventually crawl to the finishing line, but have nothing else to say. Don’t give Shaft in Africa your time and, if you can avoid it, you money. What a shame.

So, there you have it, two classic pieces of cinema and one piece of dated imperialist junk. It was a tragedy to end on such a sad note, but now I know why they never made any follow-up films. And why they keep trying to make amends for Shaft in Africa with numerous reboots.

Richard Roundtree has been a sterling guide through it all, with enough charm and charisma to even get me through that bizarre third one.

I’ve enjoyed today, two-thirds of it anyway, so I’ll hopefully do another marathon asap. I never did get around to the second half of my Pirates of the Caribbean one, but I’m so traumatised by the first three entries that my mind keeps blocking out my commitment. I do not believe this to be a bad thing.

Shut yo’ mouth, darlings.

Toodles!

Aliens vs. Pigtails

I’ve been told that, in general, women have a second-class status in Japanese society, and yet I experience countless examples of them being awesome and tough-as-nails in Japanese popular culture.

Go figure.

This mind burp was inspired by the “fix-up” film Attack from Space (1965), which condenses the serial Sūpā Jaiantsu (1957-59) into one confusing and ultra-violent mush.

Do go forth and kick much space-arse, sisters.

Toodles!

Framed to Perfection LIII

KHOCHU, CHTOB ON PRISHEL (1981)

Director: Eduard Gavrilov

Cinematographer: Boris Seredin

A charming little Russian film seemingly presenting the lives and loves of a community residing within an urban block of flats. The narrative mainly focusses on two boys, one a brooding tween, the other a bright-eyed toddler. The two boys become friends, with the latter accompanying his older chum to visit his sick mother in hospital. On the way, they encounter various oddballs and eccentrics and acrobats.

As one does.

The tween boy also pines after a girl in the apartment building, who returns the smitten-boy’s longing glances. The toddler himself manages to score with a random blonde girl playing hopscotch, whom the two boys encounter on their journey.

Nice one, lad.

While the story does not require flashy visuals, the film looks just beautiful, feeling like something made 30 years earlier. There’s a classic grain and heightened colours to the patina, although that may have something to do with my failing eyesight.

The above shot comes during a scene which, grim thanks to certain real-life tragedies, would feel rather creepy today. The tween boy takes the toddler down into a darkened basement, which contains a treasure trove of abandoned junk from previous tenants in the building. I think. That’s the vibe I got from it anyway, as I chose not to have the film translated for me by YouTube.

In general, the whole thing is a very sweet affair that won’t take up much of your time, with a lazy, rambling pace that I approve of very much.

You can find it here.

I’m still rather unwell in my own world, but attempting to post as and when I’m able. I’ve got a few posts planned, including a marathon or two, so you have those to look forward to. I alternate between getting better and worse, so I’m taking each day as it comes.

Cute foreign family films, such as this one, are keeping me company through it all and buoying my spirits greatly.

Do stay in touch, darlings.

Toodles!

YOUTUBE RANDOMNESS: CDME

My new favourite band. So very cute. So very bad. Bless.

Let’s just hope they develop some edge fast once they hit puberty.

Do stay in touch, darlings.

Toodles!

Framed to Perfection LII (52)

CHELOVEK IDVOT ZA SOLNTSEM (1962)

Director: Mikhail Kalik

Cinematographer: Vadim Derbenyov

They say never work with kids or animals, but adult humans are usually arseholes themselves, so what do they know?!

“Following the Sun”, to give it its English title, is a staggering coffee table film of visual ideas. It’s apparently Russian, but I got a very Mediterranean vibe from it, reminding me the most of Zazie dans le Metro. Only nowhere near as annoying.

It appears to tell the story of a little boy racing home across town before nightfall. As someone who suffers from nyctalopia, I literally have nightmares like this on a regular basis, often combined with being lost on the rail network. Go figure.

While there are dialogue-heavy scenes, the whole thing feels more like a silent film, with mostly music accompanying our diminutive protagonist as he encounters pockets of humanity. There are precocious street urchins, bickering couples, flamboyant musical theatre enthusiasts, and an attractive woman sporting pretty balloons. What the latter is a metaphor for, I cannot say.

Hmm…

Surely nowadays the film’s story would serve as a tedious cautionary tale about encountering strangers, but this is a simple fairytale, where the normal rules of life do not apply. It’s really about a child’s view of the world opening up as he reaches the cusp of puberty.

At least I think it is.

I hadn’t heard about Following the Sun until today, but I’d be surprised if it isn’t on a greatest films list somewhere. If it isn’t, then that’s a great shame indeed. I guess English-speaking folk aren’t keen to experience and promote anything Russian these days, but that’s their loss.

A sweet, charming, compulsive gem, which I beg you to spread the word about as best you can.

You can find it here.

Do stay in touch, darlings.

Toodles!

Intermission VI

Thanks to the crippling 3-month heatwave that has hit the UK this year, my ability to function in any capacity has been greatly reduced. I do not thrive in hot weather. I’m an autumn/winter person. I love existing under many layers of clothing and snuggling up to my duvet in bed. I also have very sedentary hobbies, which aren’t made very comfortable to do in temperatures that often make you feel like you’re suffocating. Also, I’ve been reluctant to have electrical appliances on for very long, which are, of course, often central to the life of a shy, awkward, lonely nerd.

Can you have an appliance that isn’t electrical?! Anyway…

The high temperatures have also meant that my diabetes-lowered immune system has made my body a hotel for bacteria. A hotel that doesn’t charge rent. This means I’ve been extra-prone to skin infections, so I’ve been in constant agony over the past few weeks. I’m not a masochist, so the pain has been shutting down my ability to indulge in my hobbies, even when things outside have cooled off a bit.

I’ve also been trying to deal with these painful infections by drinking heavily, which I’ve now decided to stop doing.

Oh and if all this wasn’t enough, the television in my lounge just died, which I suspect has something to do with the heat. It never was particularly reliable though, but the image was large and clear, which always helps when watching movies to review. The LG stand-in set I’ve taken from my bedroom, but it’s struggling to cope with modern HD players. Bless. It is trying though, so I’ll certainly be getting an LG replacement for the deceased lounge one, rather than another Panasonic.

The point of all this is that, whilst I have tried to post here and there, my overall output has been reduced. Whether or not you, patient reader, have noticed this, I cannot say. Perhaps a drop in the quality of what I have managed to publish may have been evident. I am updating my diary blog, The Salad of Convenience, on a regular basis, so do check that out if you’d like a peek behind the scenes of my sad little existence.

Well, I hope to be on the mend asap, especially since autumn is hurtling towards us. As an adult with no dependants, it’s always a joy when the kids go back to school after their long summer break, as it means the cold weather is finally on its way. Nothing personal against your kids, of course, as they’re actually pretty well-behaved in this neighbourhood. It’s the adults who’re a frigging nascence.

Feel free to join me in moaning about the weather, as it’s the one stereotypically-British trait that I don’t mind living up to.

Do stay in touch, darlings.

Toodles!