Page 169 - Inside the Film Factory New Approaches to Russian and Soviet Cinema

150 INSIDE THE FILM FACTORY
Speaking generally about my attitude towards cinema, I like comedy best
of all. I like to insert amusing scenes into dramas and dramatic scenes into
comedies, but of course it’s all a matter of proportion.
With a few obvious exceptions, all my films, for better or worse, deal with
contemporary life and its problems. When I have had the option, I have
always chosen contemporary subjects, even though it is not always easy to
tackle these.
In this connection, let me tell you one of my favourite stories. A great
Japanese painter reviewed his life and work as follows: from twenty to forty
he did still lifes and landscapes; between forty and sixty he painted birds;
then from sixty to eighty geese, ducks, chickens–all sorts of domestic
animals. And it was only at the beginning of his hundredth year that he felt
ready to portray humans.
My ambition has also been to show the place of man in contemporary life.
I could and would not wait that long before taking my chance. But I wonder
now if I will live long enough to provide a true picture of man.
I am not and never was a man with theories. I always found my material
in everyday life. However I would like one day to introduce mythological
themes in depicting the Krivoi Rog brigades and their dramatic conflicts. But
am I ever likely to have the chance to tackle such a big subject?

This interview, not published until six years later, was the only occasion apart from
his films when we heard the voice of Barnet. Even if it does not offer much insight,
the sound of his voice is there: this is the man himself speaking, not a conventional
figure of the period. All the more reason to understand why, and to what extent, he
remains the great unknown of Soviet cinema. Barnet’s films have not been ignored
or unavailable (other than those from the war period and the very last ones): he
has been duly recognised by historians of all shades as the founder of Soviet
comedy–and The Girl with a Hatbox certainly justifies that reputation, as does
The House on Trubnaya [Dom na Trubnoi, 1928], while By the Bluest of Seas
remains unclassifiable, and certainly not a comedy even if it provokes laughter. Of
course, as with most directors, his range is much greater than that of a single
genre.
Yelena Kuzmina demonstrated this refusal to see him in other terms when I
interviewed her in Moscow in November 1977. While she spoke with insight about
her work with Kozintsev and Trauberg (The New Babylon) and with Romm, she
had no fond memories of Barnet, despite having been (reluctantly, she claimed) his
wife and leading actress at the beginning of the 1930s:

At that time films were like banners, with such epics as Potemkin and Storm
Over Asia [Potomok Chingis-Khana, 1929]. There were also the comedies
with Igor Ilyinsky, which seemed much less interesting and were considered
things done for money rather than as art. But Barnet risked filming things