Page 102 - Inside the Film Factory New Approaches to Russian and Soviet Cinema
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INSIDE THE FILM FACTORY 83
Rabinovich, who had recently revolutionised the staid Moscow Art Theatre with
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his ‘Constructivist’ set for Lysistrata. Finally, a German cinematographer was
employed to work alongside the Russian cameraman, in recognition of the low
level of technical expertise available in a Russian studio at this time. 10
As the first Russian film to reflect the contemporary mixture of scientific and
popular enthusiasm for astronautics, Aelita had massive potential appeal. After
months of carefully nourished rumour about the resources involved in the
production, its release was preceded by various publicity stunts, including novel
‘teaser’ advertising campaigns in Pravda and Kinogazeta. In the former, a cryptic
message appeared regularly from 19 September 1924: ‘ANTA…ODELI…UTA…’,
while the latter explained:
The signals that are being received constantly by radio stations around the
world–Anta…Odeli…Uta…–have at last been deciphered! What do they
mean? You will find out on 30 September at the Ars Cinema. 11
On this occasion, the cinema façade was decorated with giant figures of Aelita and
Tuskub, the princess and king of Mars, surrounded by illuminated columns and
geometric shapes approximating to the film’s ‘Martian’ décor, and animated by
flashing lights. An accompanying orchestra played specially composed music by
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Valentin Kruchinin. Demand for tickets was unprecedented, which kept the touts
busy, and huge crowds apparently prevented Protazanov himself from attending
the première!
The film, however, turned out to be an ‘adaptation’ which bracketed a drastically
reduced version of Tolstoi’s story within an entirely new narrative. This strategy
puzzled and disconcerted many critics, but did not prevent the.film becoming
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immensely popular with cinemagoers. The next release to fare anything like as well
would be Mezhrabpom-Rus’s 1926 success (involving some of the same team) The
Bear’s Wedding, a shrewd exploitation of the vampire motif from a story by
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Mérimée, which witnesses recall generating a huge fan-mail. We shall never know
what the large audiences for these films–who were also the readers of Tolstoi’s
and other contemporary fantasy novels then abundantly available under the
market conditions of NEP publishing–made of them, but we need to bear in mind
the likelihood of responses other than the largely negative ones recorded, such as
by ‘B.G.’ in Pravda:
The theme of the picture and Tolstoi’s novel, for all its ideological
questionableness, has great literary worth. The authors of the scenario,
Otsep and Faiko, wishing to correct the ideological side, describe the whole
trip to Mars as a dream of the engineer Los. But it is unclear where he goes
to sleep, or where and when he wakes up. It is as if he woke up after
attempting to kill his wife, but then where do the scenes on Mars come from?
And besides, to Tolstoi has been added the story of the engineer’s life before