Page 131 - Inside the Film Factory New Approaches to Russian and Soviet Cinema

112 INSIDE THE FILM FACTORY
deemed Aelita too complicated for viewers to understand: Soviet in content but not
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in form, and ‘too Western’. As late as 1928, Aelita was still brought forth as an
object of scorn (admittedly, this was in the pages of Mayakovsky’s journal Novyi
Lef which resolutely opposed ‘old-fashioned’ entertainment pictures such as
these). 40
Aelita’s aftershocks jolted Protazanov. Except for his first movie (a 1909 short
never released for which he served as scenarist, based on Pushkin’s ‘The Fountain
of Bakhchisarai’) every picture he had made had been a critical as well as a
popular success. Protazanov learned his lesson well– from this point on, both the
style of his films and their manner of production changed to conform to Soviet
reality better. He eschewed special effects, expensive sets and fanciful scripts in
favour of realistic contemporary films with modest productions (but he never
abandoned his preference for seasoned crews and theatre actors, preferably with pre-
Revolutionary experience).
Protazanov also reacted to the Aelita ‘scandal’ by resuming a low public profile
(although he was once singled out in the press for enjoying a higher standard of
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living than did other film workers). His absence from the debates then raging in
the press about actors and acting, plots and scripts, montage, rationalisation of
production, etc., while not unique, was noticeable because of his prominence.
Perhaps the most amusing example of Protazanov’s practice of keeping close
counsel is a two-part series which appeared in Na literaturnom postu. Directors
and others prominent in Soviet cinema were called upon to answer several
questions about film and literature posed by the journal’s editors. Sergei Eisenstein’s
response to the three questions was about 1,300 words; Protazanov’s, exactly 84.
Yet his attitude towards his critics was quite clear:

I like to read literary criticism because it doesn’t criticise me. For that
reason, I read film criticism with less pleasure.

Igor Ilyinsky relates another example of Protazanov’s extreme reluctance to speak
on the record. During the filming of The Tailor from Torzhok, a reporter
attempted to interview Protazanov on film genres. The question ‘Which genres do
you prefer?’ elicited from Protazanov: ‘In my opinion, all genres are good except
boring ones’, but the reporter thought the director was joking. He pressed on,
asking Protazanov ‘Which comedies, in your opinion, are needed by the Soviet
viewer?’ When Protazanov replied, ‘The Soviet viewer needs good and varied
comedies’, the reporter realised there would be no interview and left. 42
Despite Protazanov’s recognition that he was living in a new world and despite
his ability to make good films in different genres on different subjects, content
continued to pose problems for him (as it did for many other directors) because of
rapidly changing cultural politics. From 1925 to 1929, his movies can be divided
into two groups: the ‘good’ films: His Call, The Forty-First, and Don Diego and
Pelageya; and the ‘bad’: The Tailor from Torzhok, The Three Millions Trial, The
Man from the Restaurant and The White Eagle. (For reasons that will be