"Journey to the Far Side of the Sun" (aka "Doppelganger") is an entertaining, Twilight Zone-style sci-fi offering from Gerry and Sylvia Anderson (the team behind Space: 1999, UFO, Thunderbirds, Fireball XL-5 and others). In the film, Roy Thinnes (of the "Invaders" TV show) and Ian Hendry star as astronauts sent on a flight to a planet which shares an exact orbit of the earth, but on the opposite side of the sun; hence previously hidden from view. A pushy European space flight director (over-acted by the late Patrick Wymark) gets the flight fast-tracked and after rigorous training , the astronauts are good to go. Thus begins the best sequences in the film, the launch, flight and landing on the 'other' earth. Dazzling rocket miniature work (by Derek Meddings) and a dream-like, elegant spaceflight (somewhat reminiscent of the best moments of "2001: A Space Odyssey") are easy highlights of the movie. The landing on the "doppelganger" earth is both exciting and eerie. After this, the Twilight Zone aspect of the film kicks in; with a plot lifted almost whole from the classic TZ episode, "The Parallel." That aside, the film is still solid sci-fi, with some intriguing 'mirror-world' stuff to chew on (backwards writing and left-handed handshakes, for example). Less successful are the scenes depicting a mid-21st century earth; where all the men wear turtlenecks and Nehru jackets and all the women wear mini-skirts. Some of the relationships with women in the film are very 'non-PC' by today's standards as well. And (in the most consistent failing of most 20th century sci-fi) the computers, telephones and other hardware are all big, colorful and clunky (right out of Patrick McGoohan's "The Prisoner"). No one foresaw the digital microprocessor age! If one can accept these failings in foresight, the movie is very interesting, with a solid lead performance by Thinnes as the troubled astronaut. And with a nice, 1960s/early '70s style nihilistic ending! For fans of retro sci-fi (like myself) this is a "Journey" worth taking!


I have fond memories of watching this visually dazzling film as a child in the late 70s/early 80s on wor-tv (now upn-9) in NY. Though a product of the swinging 60s, this film has hardly aged. The effects are just as wonderous as 2001, and in some ways superior (the model work is flawless). With an attractive cast, great color photography and set design, and an evocative score, JTTFSOTS is a winner!


I first saw this in the 70s on syndicated TV and admired its production values, which were high tech for the time. The remastered video is rich and colorful, far more intense then the pale 35 mm TV prints. This movie deserves more attention: it paved the way for UFO, Space: 1999 and even Star Wars with its detailed miniatures and cleverly conceived gadgets. Sure, the story of an alternative anti-matter planet Earth has been recycled a hundred times since Star Trek, but the beauty of this film is its self-conscious European flair for design: from the Rolls Royce space engines to the "Euro Sec" letterhead business paper, JFSS or Dopplegangers as it was called in Europe is enjoyable for the imaginary vision of Europe in space in the shadow of the Superpowers. Gerry and Sylvia Anderson's ambitious epic gets a little tedious when the American astronaut finally realizes that he is on the doppleganger Earth, and everything is literally downhill after the poetically graceful shuttle boarding sequence. A mediocre story is helped along by a grand and lyrical classical score by the late great Barry Gray, the John Williams of Britain.


I'm a huge space buff, and at nearly 44, I've just discovered this flick for the first time. I came at it in a roundabout way from Space 1999, then UFO. I went hunting for other Anderson creations and found this was their first live-action work. What a home run! I actually heard about this movie many years ago, but never knew what it was called, so I'm happy to have found it by accident.

These Andersons were nothing short of amazing in their writing, the execution of the completely believable and realistic-looking models, the quality of acting, etc.

I don't think it looks dated at all. Let me tell you... I'll take good old models over the fake-looking CGI crap of today ANY TIME! Seriously, most of the rocket scenes looked pretty real. They had it down to a science! If you choose to think of what you are looking at as real, it isn't hard to actually believe it.

Also, the amount of detail in set designs, the beautiful photography, the whole look... man, I wish I could go back to that time! They knew how to make great movies in the 60's. Personally, I've lost all interest in Hollywood movies today. Anybody with a budget can do CGI. I hate it! Bring back the models! Think of all the people that style employed! Anyway, I am ranting. :-) If you like good sci-fi that's very well-done, you will do yourself a service by watching this.


This movie has been a favorite of mine and is entwined with the Christmas Holidays for me for two reasons: (1) growing up in the 1960s, everything was space-related from advertising to television programs and even Santa Claus found himself in spaceships during that era; and (2) I saw this movie during a Christmas shopping trip when I was ten years old and it brought back fond memories of my favorite TV shows when I was even younger ("Supercar", Fireball XL5", and "Stingray",). Therefore, I am a tad biased when it comes to this movie for personal reasons.

That said, as a long-time student of film, this is mainly a movie for fans of Gerry Anderson (and Barry Gray; oh, that gorgeous score!) whereas the casual movie-watcher will be put off by the future-vision-from-the-past (dig those wild cars, commercial aircraft, clothes, etc.) and the so-called "plot twist" which will cause some to groan. However, if you can look past the post-"2001: A Space Odyssey" desire to make a science fiction film with a "far out" story line, and if you enjoy imaginative special effects, then you will enjoy this gem from an era when man had just walked on the Moon and people were still looking up at the stars in wonder and hope for the future rather than looking down at the banal trappings of the actual 21st Century.


This movie is a gem...an undiscovered Gerry Anderson classic.

The origins of both "UFO" and "Space 1999" are obvious from this movie, including the cast list which includes the late Ed Bishop and George Sewell who both went onto "UFO".

It is unfortunate that Anderson, despite his many TV successes, did not get a chance to develop his talent on the big screen. Just think what he could have done with the movie version of "Thunderbirds" (which he quite rightly disowned himself from!).

I'm sure if you give "JTTFSOTS"/"Doppleganger" a fair chance you'll appreciate it's good qualities.


Written by science fiction veterans Gerry and Sylvia Anderson. This space fantasy is aptly directed by Robert Parrish. Experienced American astronaut Colonel Glenn Ross(Roy Thinnes)agrees to a manned flight to the far side of the sun. The mission is to be controlled by Jason Webb(Patrick Wymark)and his Euro Sec Space Agency scientist John Kane(Ian Hendry)will accompany Ross. The two will explore a newly discovered planet that is in the same identical orbit as Earth...except it is always hidden on the other side of the sun. Ross is the only one to make it back to earth and has a very incredible story to tell. Special effects may be better than the story line. Nonetheless fun to watch. The cast also includes: Lynn Loring, Loni von Friedl, George Sewell and Herbert Lom.


If you're a film student, or were one, or are thinking of becoming one, the name Battleship Potemkin has or will have a resonance. Sergei Eistenstein, like other silent-film pioneers like Griffith (although Eisenstein's innovations are not as commonplace as Griffith's) and Murnau, has had such an impact on the history of cinema it's of course taken for granted. The reason I bring up the film student part is because at some point, whether you'd like it or not, your film professor 9 times out of 10 will show the "Odessa Stairs" sequence of this film. It's hard to say if it's even the 'best' part of the film's several sequences dealing with the (at the time current) times of the Russian revolution. But it does leave the most impact, and it can be seen in many films showcasing suspense, or just plain montage (The Untouchables' climax comes to mind).

Montage, which was not just Eistenstein's knack but also his life's blood early in his career, is often misused in the present cinema, or if not misused then in an improper context for the story. Sometimes montage is used now as just another device to get from point A to point B. Montage was something else for Eisenstein; he was trying to communicate in the most direct way that he could the urgency, the passion(s), and the ultimate tragedies that were in the Russian people at the time and place. Even if one doesn't see all of Eisenstein's narrative or traditional 'story' ideas to have much grounding (Kubrick has said this), one can't deny the power of seeing the ships arriving at the harbor, the people on the stairs, and the soldiers coming at them every which way with guns. Some may find it hard to believe this was done in the 20's; it has that power like the Passion of Joan of Arc to over-pass its time and remain in importance if only in terms of technique and emotion.

Of course, one could go on for books (which have been written hundreds of times over, not the least of which by Eisenstein himself). On the film in and of itself, Battleship Potemkin is really more like a dramatized newsreel than a specific story in a movie. The first segment is also one of the great sequences in film, as a mutiny is plotted against the Captain and other head-ups of a certain Ship. This is detailed almost in a manipulative way, but somehow extremely effective; montage is used here as well, but in spurts of energy that capture the eye. Other times Eisenstein is more content to just let the images speak for themselves, as the soldiers grow weary without food and water. He isn't one of those directors who will try to get all sides to the story; he is, of course, very much early 20th century Russian, but he is nothing else but honest with how he sees his themes and style, and that is what wins over in the end.

Some may want to check it outside of film-school, as the 'Stairs' sequence is like one of those landmarks of severe tragedy on film, displaying the ugly side of revolution. Eisenstein may not be one of the more 'accessible' silent-film directors, but if montage, detail in the frame, non-actors, and Bolshevik themes are your cup of tea, it's truly one of the must sees of a lifetime.


Quite a lot has been said about this film and its landmark importance in forming the language of film. If you are interested in film history, to truly understand the innovations Eisenstein brings to the medium you might try viewing Potemkin along side most any film made before it (those of D.W. Griffith offer a good contrast). It should be allowed that Eisenstein was not the only montage theorist and the principles of montage editing would likely have been discovered by another given time. However, even today, few directors have approached the skill with which Eisenstein created meaning through the combination of images at such an early point in the evolution of the medium.

If you are not interested in that sort of thing, Potemkin is still one of the most beautiful and moving films ever made. You should see it, buy it, and tatoo it to your chest.


Battleship Potemkin is a celluloid masterpiece. The direction of

Eisenstein is truly a sight. The film chronicles a ship of disgruntled

sailors who are tired of being mistreated by their superior officers.

Eventually, the sailors finally have enough of the abuse and send the

officers packing. During this time period, there was a shortage of film

stock in the Soviet Union. The goverment wanted to get their message

out to the people so they started a National Film Company and one of

the members was Sergei Eisenstein. The films were shot on miniscule

budgets and the shortage of film stock forced Eisentein to be careful

and selective with the footage that he shot. In the end, Eisenstein had

to reuse footage in order to make a feature length picture.

The most famous of the action set pieces in this film is the much

talked about massacre on the steps. This scene was spoofed in Bananas

and most recently in Brian De Palma's The Untouchables. If you want to

learn film-making, I strongly advise you to watch Battleship Potemkin.

It's one of the essentials.

A+


A milestone in cinematic history, 'Bronenosets Potyomkin' is one of the handful of great films out there that richly deserves to be called a classic. It was the picture that made Sergei M. Eisenstein a figurehead of film-making at the time. And today, it is still remembered as the wonderful piece of cinema it always has been.

'Potyomkin' is a film that NEEDS to be seen as one entity, not to be picked at. Don't just watch those clip shows where they only present the 'Odessa steps' sequence and then move on to 'Citizen Kane' or 'The Godfather', see it all in it's glorious 75-minute running time to really understand and enjoy it. Don't expect every infinitesimal detail to be perfect though, I mean the acting of the '20s silent era makes 'Scooby Doo' look like a master of understated realism, certain plot points may seem illogical and some of the battle sequences look dated, but it is still an immensely enjoyable movie.

The most memorable moments in the film are the mutiny on the battleship, Vakulinchuk's body falling off the ship, the sailor under the tent at the end of the pier, the mother holding her dead child, the baby carriage on the Odessa steps and the lion rising up to roar as further carnage ensues. For each new pair of eyes that look upon it, 'The Battleship Potemkin' comes alive once again.


Originally supposed to be just a part of a huge epic The Year 1905 depicting the Revolution of 1905, Potemkin is the story of the mutiny of the crew of the Potemkin in Odessa harbor. The film opens with the crew protesting maggoty meat and the captain ordering the execution of the dissidents. An uprising takes place during which the revolutionary leader is killed. This crewman is taken to the shore to lie in state. When the townspeople gather on a huge flight of steps overlooking the harbor, czarist troops appear and march down the steps breaking up the crowd. A naval squadron is sent to retake the Potemkin but at the moment when the ships come into range, their crews allow the mutineers to pass through. Eisenstein's non-historically accurate ending is open-ended thus indicating that this was the seed of the later Bolshevik revolution that would bloom in Russia. The film is broken into five parts: Men and Maggots, Drama on the Quarterdeck, An Appeal from the Dead, The Odessa Steps, and Meeting the Squadron.

Eisenstein was a revolutionary artist, but at the genius level. Not wanting to make a historical drama, Eisenstein used visual texture to give the film a newsreel-look so that the viewer feels he is eavesdropping on a thrilling and politically revolutionary story. This technique is used by Pontecorvo's The Battle of Algiers.

Unlike Pontecorvo, Eisenstein relied on typage, or the casting of non-professionals who had striking physical appearances. The extraordinary faces of the cast are what one remembers from Potemkin. This technique is later used by Frank Capra in Mr. Deeds Goes to Town and Meet John Doe. But in Potemkin, no one individual is cast as a hero or heroine. The story is told through a series of scenes that are combined in a special effect known as montage--the editing and selection of short segments to produce a desired effect on the viewer. D.W. Griffith also used the montage, but no one mastered it so well as Eisenstein.

The artistic filming of the crew sleeping in their hammocks is complemented by the graceful swinging of tables suspended from chains in the galley. In contrast the confrontation between the crew and their officers is charged with electricity and the clenched fists of the masses demonstrate their rage with injustice.

Eisenstein introduced the technique of showing an action and repeating it again but from a slightly different angle to demonstrate intensity. The breaking of a plate bearing the words "Give Us This Day Our Daily Bread" signifies the beginning of the end. This technique is used in Last Year at Marienbad. Also, when the ship's surgeon is tossed over the side, his pince-nez dangles from the rigging. It was these glasses that the officer used to inspect and pass the maggot-infested meat. This sequence ties the punishment to the corruption of the czarist-era.

The most noted sequence in the film, and perhaps in all of film history, is The Odessa Steps. The broad expanse of the steps are filled with hundreds of extras. Rapid and dramatic violence is always suggested and not explicit yet the visual images of the deaths of a few will last in the minds of the viewer forever.

The angular shots of marching boots and legs descending the steps are cleverly accentuated with long menacing shadows from a sun at the top of the steps. The pace of the sequence is deliberately varied between the marching soldiers and a few civilians who summon up courage to beg them to stop. A close up of a woman's face frozen in horror after being struck by a soldier's sword is the direct antecedent of the bank teller in Bonnie in Clyde and gives a lasting impression of the horror of the czarist regime.

The death of a young mother leads to a baby carriage careening down the steps in a sequence that has been copied by Hitchcock in Foreign Correspondent, by Terry Gilliam in Brazil, and Brian DePalma in The Untouchables. This sequence is shown repeatedly from various angles thus drawing out what probably was only a five second event.

Potemkin is a film that immortalizes the revolutionary spirit, celebrates it for those already committed, and propagandizes it for the unconverted. It seethes of fire and roars with the senseless injustices of the decadent czarist regime. Its greatest impact has been on film students who have borrowed and only slightly improved on techniques invented in Russia several generations ago.


Sergei Eisenstein's most famous movie has truly withstood the test of time. The story of a mutiny aboard a warship in 1905 does have the feeling of Soviet propaganda, but does a good job showing the conditions that led to the revolt. The scene on the Odessa steps should remain seared into anyone's mind.

Okay, so "The Battleship Potemkin" wasn't actually the first movie to use montage, but they did a great job with it here. Certainly any film history class should show this movie. It's a great historical drama (although I will admit that I don't know how accurate it is). A 10/10.

Oh, and we should have learned by now that "Potemkin" should be transliterated as "Potyomkin".


Eisenstein created the Russian Montage Theory, and this film is his finest example. It took years before someone could utilize his ideas and make them work (The Limey, 1999). Nonetheless, the baby carriage scene really demonstrates the discombobulated nature of RMT. Granted, like most movies, it gets long in some parts, the beauty of the film is amazing. One of the best silent films I have ever seen.


The silent film masterpiece Battleship Potemkin (1925) was commissioned by the Soviet government to celebrate the 20th anniversary of the uprising of 1905 and to establish the event as an heroic foreshadowing of the October Revolution of 1917. Ironically the film's director, Sergei Eisenstein, was one of the earliest and most influential advocates of a formalistic approach to film art. Subsequently, Eisenstein's formalism and suspect politics would cause innumerable conflicts with government agencies insisting on "socialist realism." Influenced by the Russian film theoretician, Lev Kuleshov, and through him by D. W. Griffith's Intolerance (smuggled into Russia in 1919), Eisenstein constructed his films from a "collision" of rapidly edited images, a montage of shots varied in length, motion, content, lighting, and camera angle. Without question the most memorable illustration of Eisenstein's stylistic approach - and probably the single most cited and studied sequence in world cinema history - is the "Odessa Steps" sequence in Potemkin.

In structure Potemkin is a "five reeler" divided into five narrative parts, an organization clearly derived from the five-act arrangement of Western drama. In "Men and Maggots," Eisenstein dramatizes the pre-revolutionary oppression and discontent of the battleship's working class sailors as the situation inevitably builds to mutiny. Even before the sailors and their upper class officers/masters are visually introduced, Eisenstein establishes revolutionary conditions symbolically by the collision editing of waves breaking violently and ominously at sea. Onboard ship we witness crowded, unsanitary conditions. Eisenstein emphasizes the sailors' dehumanization with shots of arbitrary lashings, harsh labor, and - most memorably - the maggot infested meat intended for the evening's meal. The ship's nearsighted physician is brought forward by the other officers to declare the meat perfectly suitable to be served with the dark soup, boiling like the sailors' rage. In accordance with Marxist maxims, the church also fails the men, and we see one of them smashing a plate inscribed with words from The Lord's Prayer from two different camera angles (in perhaps the first deliberate "jump cut" in cinema history).

Identified by inter-titles as "Drama on the Quarterdeck" and "An Appeal from the Dead," Potemkin's second and third parts depict the actual mutiny and the onshore funeral of its leader and first hero of the revolution, Vakulinchuk. United by Vakulinchuk's appeals to brotherhood, the initial mutineers are joined by the entire crew in an attack on the officers. A chaotic scene ensues whose violent passion is served well by Eisenstein's editing techniques. The officers' quarters are trampled and symbols of their privilege are destroyed. The ship's doctor is thrown overboard, accompanied by dramatic crosscuts to the maggot-ridden meat and his eyeglasses metonymically dangling in the rigging. Tragically, Vakolinchuk's death is the price paid for the revolt (no omelet without breaking eggs) and he is laid out with dignity on an Odessa pier. Hundreds of ordinary Odessa citizens gather with the sailors to honor him and to pledge "Death to the oppressors." Shots of fists clenching and unclenching signal the birth of revolutionary consciousness.

The complex and unforgettable Odessa Steps sequence constitutes the film's fourth act. It begins with uplifting music and a series of close-ups and medium shots on the elated faces of diverse people on the shore and selected objects (parasol, eyeglasses, baby carriage). Suddenly (as exclaims a title card in huge letters) the music stops and lines of soldiers with drawn rifles and fixed bayonets appear at the top of the steps. Here Eisenstein releases the full force of collision editing as nearly a hundred shots are pieced together to contrast the panicked mayhem and victimization of the citizenry with the relentless assault of the soldiers driving the citizens down to the trampling horses and flying sabers of the waiting Cossacks below. The mise-en-scene is framed by a statue of Caesar at the top of the stairs and a church at the bottom, symbolic metonyms for Russia's oppressive institutions: tsarist monarchy and the Orthodox Christian church.

Punctuating the sequence are two scenes involving mothers and children. In the first, a mother and young boy who had been introduced among the joyous faces in the crowd are among the slaughter's first victims. The boy is shot, but the mother continues running until close-ups of her face convey her horrified gaze at the son's fallen body being trampled by the crowd. With a much slowed editing pace, the camera follows the mother as she carries the lifeless body of her child up the stairs to confront the soldiers (shown only in a diagonal shadow line). They summarily shoot her dead. After this lull, the carnage continues for another several dozen cuts until a second mother is shot through the stomach (the womb of Mother Russia?) as she tries to shield her baby in its carriage. In a scene famously imitated in The Untouchables, the carriage incongruously slips down the staircase. Horrified faces of huddled citizens watch the slow progress to its doom. When the carriage reaches the bottom there is a cut to a Cossack wielding a sword and a classic Kuleshov effect suggests what we do not actually see: the slaughtering of this pure and symbolic innocent. The final series of shots in the Odessa sequence is of three stone lions, one in repose, one sitting up, and one roaring. The editing animates them into a visual metaphor of the people's awakened rage.

Somewhat anticlimactically, the fifth act returns us to the battleship as the mutinous sailors flee on the high seas and await an encounter with other ships from the fleet. They and the viewer expect retribution, but when the meeting occurs no shots are fired and instead all the sailors wave and throw their hats in the air in a symbol of comradeship. Eisenstein was rewriting history at this point since the revolution was not successfully launched for another twelve years. But that quibble aside, Battleship Potemkin stands as one of the seminal works of the silent film era, and it retains extraordinary cinematic power.


The Battleship Potemkin was said to have been a favourite of Charlie Chaplin. It presents a dramatised version of the mutiny that occurred in 1905 when the crew of the Russian battleship Potemkin rebelled against their officers of the Tsarist regime.

The film is a textbook cinema classic, and a masterpiece of creative editing, especially in the famous Odessa Steps sequence in which innocent civilians are mown down in the bloodshed; the happenings of a minute are drawn into five by frenzied cross-cutting. The film contains 1,300 separate shots, and in 1948 and 1958 was judged the best film ever made by a panel of international critics. The Battleship Potemkin is in the public domain, in some parts of the world.


On June 14 1905, during the Russian Revolution of that year, sailors aboard the Russian battleship Potemkin rebelled against their oppressive officers. Frustrated with the second-rate treatment they receive, and most particularly the maggot-infested meat that they are forced to eat, the ship's crew, led by the inspirational Bolshevik sailor Grigory Vakulinchuk (Aleksandr Antonov), decide that the time is ripe for a revolution. And so begins Sergei M. Eisenstein's rousing classic of Russian propaganda, 'Bronenosets Potyomkin / The Battleship Potemkin.'

The film itself is brimming with shining examples of stunning visual imagery: the spectacles of an overthrown ship captain dangle delicately from the side rope over which he had been tossed; the body of a deceased mutineer lies peaceful upon the shore, the sign on his chest reading "KILLED FOR A BOWL OF SOUP;" close-up shots of the clenching fists of the hundreds of spectators who are finally fed up with the Tsarist regime; a wayward baby carriage careers down the Odessa Steps as desperate onlookers watch on with bated breath (this scene was memorably "borrowed" by Brian De Palma for a particularly suspenseful scene in his 'The Untouchables'); the barrels of numerous canons are ominously leveled towards the vastly-outnumbered battleship Potemkin.

However, the film itself is best analysed  not as a fragmented selection of memorable scenes  but as a single film, and, indeed, every scene is hugely memorable. Though divided into five fairly-distinct chapters, the entire film flows forwards wonderfully; at no point do we find ourselves losing interest, and we are absolutely never in doubt of whose side we should be sympathetic towards.

The film is often referred to as "propaganda," and that is exactly what it is, but this need not carry a negative connotation. 'The Battleship Potemkin' was produced by Eisenstein with a specific purpose in mind, and it accomplishes this perfectly in every way. Planned by the Soviet Central Committee to coincide with the 20th century celebrations of the unsuccessful 1905 Revolution, 'Potemkin' was predicted to be a popular film in its home country, symbolising the revitalization of Russian arts after the Revolution. It is somewhat unfortunate, then, that Eisenstein's film failed to perform well at the Russian box-office, reportedly beaten by Allan Dwan's 1922 'Robin Hood' film in its opening week and running for just four short weeks. Luckily, despite being banned on various occasions in various countries, 'The Battleship Potemkin' fared more admirably overseas.

The film also proved a successful vehicle for Eisenstein to test his theories of "montage." Through quick-cut editing, and distant shots of the multitudes of extras, the audience is not allowed to sympathise with any individual characters, but with the revolutionary population in general. Eisenstein does briefly break this mould, however, in a scene where Vakulinchuk flees the ship officer who is trying to kill him, and, of course, during the renowned Odessa Steps sequence, as our hearts beat in horror for the life of the unfortunate child in the tumbling baby carriage. The accompanying soundtrack to the version I watched, largely featuring the orchestral works of Dmitri Shostakovich, served wonderfully to heighten the emotional impact of such scenes.

One of the greatest films of the silent era, 'The Battleship Potemkin' is a triumph of phenomenal film-making, and is a significant slice of cinematic history. The highly-exaggerated events of the film (among other things, there was never actually any violent massacre on the Odessa Steps) have so completely engrained themselves in the memory, that we're often uncertain of the true history behind the depicted events. This is a grand achievement.


The Battleship Potemkin is now the oldest film I've seen and it is also the first silent film I've seen. I heard a lot of good things about this movie so I got the tape out at home and I watched it. When it ended I just thought that this was a classic masterpiece. The story is based on the real-life Russian Battleship Potemkin. You wouldn't think it but some of it was sad and disgusting. Sad being that the mother dies and the pram rolls down the stairway and disgusting being they have to eat rotten meat with maggots in it.

Today it is still considered to be one of the best silent and Russian films ever made. I think that everyone should see it (if they can find it.) You will be presently surprised at how good it is. It's a must see classic. 5/5.


There are only a handful of movies that were made on such a grand scale and made such a difference in the art of movie making.

"Bronenosets Potyomkin" is one of these movies, and it should be on anyone's list looking to learn more about the history of cinema.

Grigori Aleksandrov & Sergei M. Eisenstein directed this groundbreaking film that documents the horrors taking place on a Russian battleship. When the sailors finally retaliate against their superiors, the locals embrace the them, and support them. Things get ugly when a group of soldiers are sent to the small town to take care of business. What follows is one of the most imitated scenes in the history of cinema. Anyone who has seen "The Untouchables", and "Bronenosets Potyomkin" knows exactly what I mean.

Overall I think this movie raised the bar for film making just as "Intolerance" did a few years earlier. If you do not mind silent films, do yourself a favor, and see "Bronenosets Potyomkin".

If you don't like silent films..... watch "Bronenosets Potyomkin" anyway.


I did something a little daring tonight when I watched this movie. I attempted to wean myself from silent movie scores. Sure, when this film originally was distributed, a piano score was probably played with it. Oftentimes, the director would choose the score himself (Charlie Chaplin often composed the scores of his later silent films). But most of the music you hear on VHS tapes over silent films is in no way the same music that was supposed to be played when the film was first released. And, then again, there were plenty of silent films that were played without a score. I do not know the history of Potemkin's score, so I decided to watch it for the medium this piece of art was produced within - film.

Soon after I turned the music off, unaided (or should I say unimpeded) by the musical interpretation of the emotions on screen, I became utterly attached to the film. Visually, it is easily one of the most stunning of all films. Eisenstein was a master of composition. The editing, possibly the cinematic technique Eisenstein is most famous for (montage), is extraordinary. The mood of this film is anger, and it stirred my passions violently.

It takes a lot of effort to enjoy a silent film, especially a drama, but films like Battleship Potemkin prove that this effort is entirely worth it. Come on! You owe it to yourself to watch this film! Your education is incomplete without it.


It was surprising that a silent film could be so easy to watch. The economy with which it has been edited and the films structure itself are the main elements that contribute to this.

The film really captures the spirit of the revolution that it is dealing with - you really sympathise with the sailors and citizens. Of course, this film has it's own agenda, but as it is a practically redundant cause, it can be viewed as a piece of entertainment in a much clearer sense.

The tension created on the screen is excellent - starting with the battleship itself, and then moving onto the mainland. Things escalate believably and for a film of it's era, it really is quite unflinching in revealing the sacrifices made by the characters in the film.

This really is worth sitting through, (that is if you can adjust your modern viewing habits for 90mins).


the movie touches the soul of the audience very much,some scene in the movie is ultimate and tears comes out automatically,i'm surprised by seeing this movie that any director can direct this type of movie in the year 1925.as a student of cinema i can say this movie helps a lot to understand use of montage.first time when our teacher told us about this movie means genre of this movie we thought nothing could be there in this movie to understand but finally when sir explained it then we came to know how great this movie is.lastly i can say it helps a lot understanding films.and being a cinema student i can the viewers that they can see this movie.


The photography and editing of the movie is exceptional for the time period. Eisenstein builds upon each scene of the movie leading to the the sailor's revolt and the massacre at the town. As much as the movie is a high point in the cinema, it is also an example of SZocialist Realism. by 1925 the Soviet government actively used the arts, including film, as a means to spread the message of the revolution. Eisensteins portrayal of the revolt on the Battleship Potempkin offers the viewer insight into the message of the Soviet elite. Marxist theory and perspectives of class struggle are demonstrated as the sailors who represent the oppressed workers and the officers who represent the elite of society. Much of the film demonstrates the communist party message and how film was used as a tool of propaganda.


SPOILERS Every major regime uses the country's media to it's own ends. Whether the Nazi banning of certain leaflets, or the televised Chinese alternative of Tianamen Square, Governments have tried to influence the people through different mediums since the beginning of time. In 1925 though, celebrating the failed mutiny of 1905, the Russian Communist Government supported the creation of this film, Battleship Potempkin. A major piece of cinematic history, it remains powerful and beautiful to this very day.

Set aboard the Battleship Potempkin, the crew are unhappy. In miserable living conditions and with maggot infested food, they are angry at their upper class suppressors. Now though, after the rotten food, enough is enough. Led by Grigory Vakulinchuk (Aleksandr Antonov), the crew turn upon their masters and fight for their freedom.

As far as propaganda goes, "Battleship Potempkin" is perfect. Presenting a positive light on the first, unsuccessful, communist mutiny, the film was a useful Soviet tool. Eighty years after the films release though, and the USSR has disappeared completely off the map. The amazing thing about this film though is that whilst the country it's message was intended for has disappeared, the film remains a powerful and worthy piece of cinema.

Written and directed by Sergei Eisenstein, the film is surprisingly a joy to watch. It is true, that it is far from what we would nowadays consider 'entertainment', but the film is a beautiful piece of art.

Whether it be the scenes aboard the boat or the often talked about scene on the steps of Odessa, everything about this film is perfectly made. The music is powerful and dramatic, the lighting is flawless, even the acting, whilst slightly overdone, is perfect for the piece. Basically, there is no way to fault this film's end product.

It's impossible to know how the Russian people received this film upon it's release. Praising a country which has not existed for fifteen years, it's difficult for us to know the full spirits that the film inspires. As a piece of art though, it is magnificent. Beautiful from start to finish, it is far from an easy watch, but it is well worth the effort.


This 1925 film narrates the story of the mutiny on board battleship Potemkin at the port of Odessa. The movie celebrated the 20th anniversary of the uprising of 1905, which was seen as a direct precursor to the October Revolution of 1917. Following his montage theory, Eisenstein plays with scenes, their duration and the way they combine to emphasize his message, besides he uses different camera shot angles and revolutionary illumination techniques. The "Odessa Steps" sequence in Potemkin is one of the most famous in the history of cinema. The baby carriage coming loose down the steps after its mother has been shot was later recreated in Brian d' Palma's The Untouchables. It is clear that the film is one of the best ever made considering its time and how innovative it was though you need a little bit of patience and to be a real movie enthusiast to go through its 70 minutes.


Eisenstien's "Potempkin", (Bronenosets Potyomkin), is among the finest films ever made and possibly the best of the silent era. Eisenstien was a pioneer of film form and his use of montage editing has influenced films to this day. The Odessa Steps massacre footage is as powerful today as it was when first seen over 70 years ago. DO NOT pass up the chance to see this film!


This film is a benchmark in non-mainstream cinema history. The use of montage represents a quantum leap from the relatively simple juxtapositions of Strike (Eisenstein's 1st film). Take the scene on the steps and note the repeated shot of the soldiers descending, to reiterate the point of the horrors that actually did happen! A highly intelligent monumental film, a must see for all Film students!


Based on actual events of 1905, silent film THE BATTLESHIP POTEMKIN concerns an Imperial Russian ship on which abominable conditions lead to a mutiny. Shocked by conditions on the ship, citizens of the port city Odessa rally to the mutineers' support--and in consequence find themselves at the mercy of Imperial forces, who attack the civilian supporters with savage force.

POTEMKIN is a film in which individual characters are much less important than the groups and crowds of which they are members, and it achieves its incredible power by showing the clash of the groups and crowds in a series of extraordinarily visualized and edited sequences. Amazingly, each of these sequences manage to top the previous one, and the film actually builds in power as it moves from the mutiny to the citizen's rally to the massacre on the Odessa steps--the latter of which is among the most famous sequences in all of film history. Filming largely where the real events actually occurred, director Eisenstein's vision is extraordinary as he builds--not only from sequence to sequence but from moment to moment within each sequence--some of the most memorable images ever committed to film.

To describe POTEMKIN as a great film is something of an understatement. It is an absolute essential, an absolute necessity to any one seriously interested in cinema as an art form, purely visual cinema at its most brilliant, often imitated, seldom equaled, never bested.

Gary F. Taylor, aka GFT, Amazon Reviewer


/*may contain SPOILERS, but of course it does not matter :) */

Battleship Potemkin is one stunning spectacle of haunting images. The visual direction is (well, and has been) inspiring, the sheer scale of the film is impressive, and the technique is certainly pioneering. What is really amazing is, to my mind, the depth and effectiveness of a film, devoid of proper literary script, sound (save the soundtrack), decent image quality, the faux-profound (self-)referentialism of today, exceptional acting, pretense, etc. What you get is a purely visual experience to be remembered.

BTW, the previous poster noted: "Eisenstien felt after a lot of suffering to give the heroes what they wanted. The problem is that you think Eisenstein is building up to a big final fight and then he tricks you. It's a little cheap. I would've rather seen a huge final action scene."

I must warn you, that the end is not cheap, and Eisenstein wasn't being generous to the heroes. History, however, was. Potemkin really did go through the squadron as it was shown in the film.

Finally, I'd strongly recommend seeing Battleship Potemkin to anyone more or less seriously interested in cinema. See it with a fellow movie buff, it kept me talking for hours. However, if you tend to consider films, generally accepted as "great" or "classic", to be "slow" or "boring", this film might not be for you yet. Not much cheap entertainment here.

For me though, it is a full 10/10.


The famous closeup of their breakfast meat, crawling with maggots still is recorded by fire in my neurons or the wind filling the right places of the sails, the fog better than Carpenter's THE FOG cos is the real terror bursting out from human history instead of pirates ghosts. But , I tell ya' something: Not even the magnificent scene in homenage performed by Brian Di Palma with the excellent music of Ennio Morricone in The Untochables (filmed in slow motion)can equal the effect of the original masterpiece of the crowd climbing down the ladders. We see not merely the baby stroller but I remember the hand of a baby stepped by militar boot, someone with no feet escaping at the last minute, someone wearing glasses (then a cut edition) and then the same glasses broken by a bullet that passed through....mini stories in a single scene.


Have wanted to see this for a while: I never thought I'd be watching it in a damp Trafalgar Square, London with 15,000 other people and all to a new score by the Pet Shop Boys.

Quickly, that experience specifically. A new departure from PSB, it seemed to suffer from the same problem the miniaturist Hugo Wolf had when he wrote his opera Der Corregidor: the long structure was a chain of short ones, i.e. songs. PSB produced a more fluid, integrated score although it was quite static on its own terms. Neither could they resist song: a setting of the subtitled text worked in this respect a free standing meditation on the action of the Odessa steps massacre during the action of that sequence itself was, I'd go so far to say, counterproductive. Overall it was very exciting though, which is surely what Eisenstein was trying to achieve.

It is a very exciting film with choppier editing taking the place of acceleration of tension or action. In fact the film, though beautifully shot and passionately acted (it has a silent film melodrama, but not in the excess of the Hollywood comic style) breathes through its careful editing pacing specific shots with a sense of the rate at which the audience will take them in. And there's a huge range of perspective too; either he had a lot of cameras or the sequences on the harbor and steps took a great deal of time.

Super film, which can be assessed irrespective of sound, as that's how the finished product would have been conceived. 8/10


After reading a biography on the last Russian Tzar (Nicholas II), and his failure to secure the army's support, I decided to give this film a try.

I watched it with a completely open mind, not knowing anything about it (except its reputation).

These are the things that impressed me the most.

1) The shots of battleships, and the soldiers used as extras. More than once I stopped to think "if this was done in this time and place, 80% of this would have been computer-generated".

2) The Realism in it. From the maggot-infested meat to the shot of the sailor with his candle and the legend "Killed for a bowl of soup", this movie makes no concessions to the PC cause (which, thankfully, hadn't been invented yet).

3) The slow descent into madness of the Odessa Steps sequence. From the first shot, when the limbless man appears, you get the idea something might be wrong; since the overall shots are composed, though, you end up feeling comfortable in your surroundings. Then an amputee appears, and people start falling in dramatic poses. Still, the shots are composed... until the Cossacks appear into scene, and the incredible shot juxtapositions appear. This scene is easily worth the price of admission.

4) The fact that this movie is 100% unadulterated propaganda. Then again, when Rambo fought in Afghanistan he also was having something to do with "propaganda"; only a different kind.

Overall: a film marred by a bit of a slow narrative. Nevertheless, Metropolis, The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari and this movie are perfect examples of inventive, edgy movies that are still remembered for their merits today. They really make modern movies look boring and repetitive.


I had before a feeling of mislike for all Russian films. But, after seeing this film I haven´t. This is a unique masterpiece made by the best director ever lived in the USSR. He knows the art of film making, and can use it very well. If you find this movie: buy or copy it!


This is one of the best films I've seen from the silent era (sad to say, I've yet to see too many with the exception of Chaplin/Keaton stuff). Very visually brilliant, with insanely influential style in editing and composition. Really unique (especially for its time) camera angles and extremely hectic editing. Definitely a must see for the film nerd.

The downside is that it is a bit too in your face about its politics (I have no problem with politics in film, as long as they are subtle or at least somewhat ignorable as a backseat to the story). Also, it's not an "entertainment" film, which is fine, but it's not something I'm going to watch a billion times. This is art, plain and simple, like it or not.

Worth an A+ for influence alone, but based on personal enjoyment, I give it an A-.


I just finished watching this film. For me, the most outstanding work in this film was the music score. While many silent film scores work very well with their scenes, I feel that this is the best score I've come across. The mutiny scenes in particular worked extremely well.


Some users are confused about the identity of the armed men walking down the steps in the "Odessa staircase" sequence. These men are not Cossacks but regular army troops.

The Cossacks arrive at the scene a little later and they are the men on horses slashing at the crowd with their sabers.

To experts on Russian history: Correct me on this if I'm wrong.

But there are a couple of lines in the movie that apparently no one has commented on. After the takeover of the Potemkin, someone in the crowd on shore says, "Kill the Jews!" This is on screen for only a couple of seconds but it is there.

How cruelly typical of history, not just in Russia but in so many other countries, to immediately, unthinkingly and instinctively blame Jews for any domestic trouble!

Perhaps other parts of the movie are not historically factual but the outcry against the Jews is all too real. Comments, anyone?

Also, why can't speakers of English learn to pronounce the name as "Potyomkin" instead of as "Potemkin"? There's a need in Russian to distinguish the two possible pronunciations of "e": as either "ye" or as "yo." Sometimes two dots are used to distinguish these two pronunciations but usually the difference simply has to be memorized.


If you think piano teacher Erika Kohut (Isabelle Huppert) in Michael Haneke's film "LA PIANISTE" is the ultimate degree in the personification of derangement, perversion and darkness, I've got news for you: the piano teacher in Elfriede Jellinek's novel "LA PIANISTE" (on which the film was based) is twice as "repulsive", "disgusting", "deranged" and even more fascinating -- though there can't be words enough to translate the level of artistic proficiency that Isabelle Huppert has reached here, above all other mortal actresses in activity today. And who else could have played this character with such emotional power, complete with the best piano playing/dubbing an actor could deliver?

In the novel as in the film, there are two big antagonists to the "heroine" Kohut: her own mother (wonderful, wreck-voiced Annie Girardot, in a part originally intended for Jeanne Moreau) and Austria itself. The mother personifies Jellinek's perception of her native Austria as a country that deceptively and perversely encourages racist/fascist (or at least authoritarian) behavior, sexual and emotional repression, and, let's say, übermensch ideals which are impossible to keep today without the danger of a mental breakdown.

"La Pianiste" also deals with a very powerful and delicate issue: how dangerous it is to reveal your innermost fantasies to the one (you think) you love. We tend to think our own sexual fantasies must be as exciting to others as they are to ourselves, which may turn out to be a huge, embarrassing and sometimes tragic mistake. Here, Kohut learns (?) the lesson in the most painful and humiliating of ways.

It must be mentioned that Elfriede Jellinek is one of the best-known and praised authors in Austria and Europe (well, now she's got a Nobel Prize!) and that autobiographical passages can be inferred in her novel, as she herself was a pianist and had a reportedly difficult relationship with her mother. The novel also includes long passages about Kohut's childhood and adolescence so you kind of understand how she turned into who she is now. Haneke chose to hide this information in the film, forcing us to wonder how she got to be that way (don't we all know a Erika Kohut out there?). But he very much preserves the fabric of the book in his film: unbearable honesty, to the point where most secretive, "horrendous" feelings painfully emerge -- envy, cruelty, violence, jealousy, hate, misery, sadism, masochism, selfishness, perversion etc. All of them unmistakably human.

I thought "La Pianiste" was a deeply moving film, very disturbing and thought-provoking, with a handful of unforgettable scenes, and that's just all I ask of movies. It also made me buy and be thrilled by the book, discover a fantastic author I hadn't read before, and listen again and again to Schubert - so, my thanks to Haneke, Jellinek and Isabelle!!! On the other hand, if you're looking for light entertainment, please stay away. My vote: 9 out of 10


I saw this film at the 2001 Toronto International Film Festival. La Pianiste reinforces the "Austrians=grim" thesis I'm formulating. Isabelle Huppert won a well-deserved Best Actress award at Cannes for her portrayal of a woman who, in her efforts to attain the artistic ideal, loses her humanity. Trapped by her talent, she suppresses her emotions and her sexuality until they can only be expressed in twisted and terrifying ways. When a younger student falls in love with her, our hopes rise, but are soon dashed by the realization that she cannot experience love the way others can. It is too late for her, and the film's final 30 harrowing minutes are, tellingly, devoid of the beautiful music that carried the first 90 minutes. The message seems to be that the music itself is not enough without the life and beauty it's describing.


Isabelle Huppert must be one of the greatest actresses of her or any other generation. "La Pianiste" truly confirms it. As if that wasn't enough, Annie Girardot plays her mother and Annie Girardot is one of the greatest actresses of her or any other generation. So, as you may well imagine, those pieces of casting are worth the horror we're put through. Isabelle and Annie play characters we've never seen before on the screen. A mother and daughter yes but with such virulent fearlessness that sometimes I was unable even to blink or to breath. Personally, I don't believe in the director's intentions, I don't believe they (the intentions that is) go beyond the shocking anecdote and the ending made me scream with frustration but I was riveted by the story written in the face of the sensational Huppert and the fierceness of Girardot's strength. I highly recommend it to cinema lovers anywhere and to the collectors of great performances like me, you can't afford to miss "La Pianiste"


Michael Haneke is known for his disturbing movies like "Funny Games". This time he adopted Elfriede Jelineks "Die Klavierspielerin", which is probably her best work so far. Jelinek always writes about abusive behaviour in families, and especially of the suppression of women in a patriarchal society.

Erika Kohut (Isabelle Huppert) works as a piano teacher at the Viennese Consevatory. She still lives with her mother (Annie Giradot), they even sleep in the same bed (already a hint of something strange). Erika bullies her students the same way she's bullied by her mother and secretly watches porn movies and plays sadomasochistic games with herself. A student, Walter (Benoit Magimel), falls in love with her, but she refuses to simply sleep with him. She wants to play her games with him, but he's disgusted. He reluctantly follows her rules, which means disaster for both of them.

Haneke has a very clear picture language, everything is filmed in a almost spartanic way, so the complex characters and story are enhanced.

People who don't know Austria very well may be don't realize how essential the setting is for the story. Jelinek (as well as other great Austrian writers like Thomas Bernhard) suffers from the coldness and casualness in Austrian families and society. Austrians (at least Viennese people) are often unable to articulate their pains, wishes, they suppress their emotions, so there often enough is no real love, affection and nearness in their families. In a society, where it's more important to show a perfect facade to society (even if this means to protect crimes within families as Erika and her mother protect Walters rape of Erika to avoid a scandal) than to deal with your emotional problems it's probably no wonder that Sigmund Freud founded the psychoanalysis in Vienna. Erika has a cold and distant relationship with her mother, they only time they share some emotions is very violent and not at all loving. Erika replaces her hidden emotions with wishes for violence, so that she can finally release some feelings. But she has nobody who really wants to speak about her emotions so in the end she has to stab herself to ease her inner pain.

Isabelle Huppert shows her best performance of her career (as well of most other actresses). With a unsmiling face you often see only a hint of emotion in her face, a quick smile, a glance with her eyes. And in the end her pain is masterly displayed without a single tear.

Benoit Magimel and Annie Giradot also turn in powerful performances, but the movie belongs to Huppert.


In the first twenty minutes we are swept away by several powerfully portrayed emotions: a suffocating and overbearing mother has a violent argument with her live-in 40yr old daughter; a piano teacher (and professor of music)'s love for her pupils expressed in unswerving critical appraisal; the joy that music can inspire both in the listener and the performer. Within this short space of time our senses have been assaulted convincingly with very real characters. We are also swept away by powerfully performed music and shown the difference between great and mediocre performance with a lot of attention to nuance. Such material alone would have been the basis for an outstanding film of widespread appeal. But the trend in French cinema being what it is, it goes deeper, exploring the repressed sexuality of the teacher, the expression of sexual freedom and subsequent breakdown within a context of passionate attraction, and the inevitable cycle of real abuse. We are drawn to her suffering and, at least initially, wonder how much suffering may be related to the accomplishment of genius, particularly in the composers she admires. The Piano Teacher contains graphic dialogue and depictions of sex and brutality in scenes that some people might rather not watch. The scenes are essential to the dilemmas which the film seeks to raise and so can hardly be called gratuitous. A great film it may be, but mainstream viewing it is not.


Erika Kohut is a woman with deep sexual problems. At the start of the film, we see her arriving home late. When her older mother protests, Erika goes into a frenzy, attacking the older woman without pity. Erika, as it turns out, is a musical teacher of a certain renown in the conservatory where she teaches. When we next see her, she is the model of composure, but she shows a cruel side in the way she attacks a young male student because she feels he is wasting his time, and hers. The same goes for the insecure Anna, a talented girl who Erika hates, maybe because she sees in the young woman a promise that she is not willing to promote.

At the end of the day, we watch Erika as she goes into an amusement area and proceeds to one of the cabins where pornographic material is shown. Erika is transfixed as she watches the things that are being performed on the screen. On another occasion, Erika comes to a drive-in where a movie is in progress. Her attention goes toward a parked car in which, two lovers are performing a sex act. The camera lingers on Erika as she is lost in reverie watching what the two lovers are doing, until she is surprised by the young man inside the car. Erika flees horrified she's been discovered.

When a wealthy couple invites Erika to perform in a recital in their opulent home, she meets an eager young man, Walter, who is related to the hosts. Walter is immediately taken with Erika's playing; the young man is a talented pianist himself. His eagerness to compliment Erika is met with skepticism on her part. Walter decides to audition for Erika's master class, and is accepted.

Thus begins Walter pursuit of Erika, who is taken aback when she realizes what the young man's motives really are. In turn, Erika, begins to fantasize about Walter in ways that only her mind could, imagining what she would like him do when, and if, they get together. Walter gets turned off by the letter Erika has written to him, detailing sexual acts that are repugnant to the young man.

The film's ending, reminded us of the last sequence of Mr. Haneke's current "Cache". We are taken to a concert hall where Erika is going to perform. She is seen stalking the lobby looking for the arrival of Walter, who goes on into the hall without noticing her. Erika's expression to the camera reveals a lot more of her state of mind in that last minutes of the film. As she flees the lobby area after inflicting a wound on herself, the camera abandons her and concentrates on the building's facade that seems to stay on the screen for a long time.

"La Pianiste" is a personal triumph for Isabelle Huppert. This magnificent actress does one of her best appearances on the screen, guided by the sure hand of Michael Haneke, one of the most interesting directors working today. Ms. Huppert's works with economic gestures, yet, she projects so much of her soul as she burns the screen with her Erika.

The supporting cast does wonders under the director's guidance. Annie Girardot, always excellent, is perfect as Erika's mother. She seems to be the key of whatever went wrong with her daughter. There is a hint of incest that is played with subtleness in the context of the film. Benoit Magimel is perfectly cast as Walter. This young actor does a wonderful job in the film as the young man, so in love with a woman that is possessed by demons, that he'll never be able to chase away or get her to love him in a normal manner.

Michael Haneke films are always disturbing to watch, yet they offer so many rewards because he dares to go where other men don't. The magnificent music heard in the film are mainly by Schubert and Schumann, two composers that are Erika's own favorites. The movie is helped tremendously by Christian Berger's cinematography.


After I saw "La Pianiste" several years ago, I said to myself that I would never see it again, so powerful and disturbing it was. Time went on but I could not get the movie and its main character, Erika Kahut out of my mind. The story of a respected Piano teacher in Vienna Conservatory, cool and collected on the surface, an expert in classical music, with the inner world so dark and disturbing with the demons of fear, self-loathing and self destruction strong enough to ruin her demanded more than one viewing. I read the book "The Piano Teacher" by Elfriede Jelinek, the controversial Nobel Prize winner in literature that the film is based on and after reading it I saw the film again. Second time, all pieces of puzzle came to the right places. Not very often an outstanding harrowing book is transferred to the screen with such brilliancy as "Le Pianiste". Three actors gave outstanding performances. Franz Schubert's Piano music, "soaked in the morbid humanity", is another bright star of the movie.

I only have one problem with Haneke's vision. There is a scene in the film where Haneke made some changes to Erika's character comparing to the novel. In the book, the furthest she went to reveal herself to Walter, the young student in the conservatory who became attracted to her, was in a letter. As soon as he realized what he was dealing with and showed to her how much he was repulsed by that, she had stopped communicating with him. Erika of the book would never chase Walter to throw herself to him. She kept everything inside - she did not like to act, she was not a chaser - she loved to watch. The big scene during the hockey game was not necessary. It tried to make Erika sympathetic (and of course, Huppert was heartbreaking) but it took the mystery that surrounded her - Jelinek did not write that scene, it sounded and looked false in otherwise excellent film.


As with all Haneke films, make your own decision--don't be swayed by what you read and if you are interested in someone using the medium of film for their own unique ends, see it yourself. Isabelle Huppert is stunning in this film--combined with Haneke, these two never pull their punches. Haneke reels us in with the lure of golden boy, Benoit Magimel, but this is an anti-romance as much as Funny Games was an anti-thriller. You'll have to force yourself to watch much of it and the catharsis is much more in the range of sustained anxiety than any kind of emotional release but it's incredibly nervy and thought provoking; Haneke continues to hold up a mirror to how desensitised Western civilization is or has become. People may turn their noses up at this but it's only taking what Solondz did in Happiness a few steps further. While grounded in reality, much of what Erika (Huppert) does can be viewed as emotional metaphor. I'm not recommending it but I wouldn't dissuade you either...it definitely divides people but given it's largely about repression--that's no surprise.


First of all, those who are faint at heart should definitely avoid this film. Even those, like me, who are desensitized to most graphically violent and sexual acts in movies should beware. I'm not telling you to steer away from the film, but be aware that what you're about to see is some disturbing material. Definitely not a pleasing film to watch, but nothing is put on screen strictly for shock value. But I must admit, when I watched the film for a second time, I had to skip to the next chapter when the "razor blade scene" came up.

The main character is one of the most unsympathetic sympathetic characters I can think of, but we start to better realize the humanity of her character later in the film's second act. In one scene, she stuffs broken glass in one of her student's jacket pocket after being dissatisfied with her apparently unsatisfactory performance and getting nervous when in front of a live audience. The student goes into her pocket and cries out with pain as she stares at her blood-stained hand. Next to the razor blade scene, that disturbed me most. The student's mother is not much more sympathetic than she. When she gets word that her daughter won't be able to play, she talks about it like she also got also her hand injured, being one of those spoiled mothers who tries to torture her daughter into becoming an overachiever.

Though the film intrigued me and caught my interest for the most part, I felt more needed to be explained about Isabelle Huppert's character. When a woman is fascinated by sadomasochistic porno movies and engaging in that behavior herself, you want to understand the root of the problem. The movie establishes that she wants desperately to be loved. Then why the hateful attitude towards everyone? Why does she receive sexual pleasure from pain?

The acting is terrific and I liked the glossy, stylized lighting. Altogether, it's not a film I'd recommend if you're in the mood to be entertained, but as I said it's very intriguing. And I'm sure if I watched it a few more times, I'd be able to spot certain subtleties that'll shed more light on aspects of the film I didn't realize initially.

My score: 7 (out of 10)


At the end of my review of Cache, I wrote that I was intrigued with Haneke as a film maker. This is what led me to get the DVD for La Pianiste, which I just finished watching about a half hour ago.

It's all been expressed, here at IMDb and in many of the external reviews - the gruesomely twisted pathology that would 'create' an individual like Huppert's Erika, who is still trying, after years and years, to please her mother, at the expense of everyone and everything else in her life, beginning with her self. She's repressed everything that would free her from her self-imposed bondage, including, of course, her sexuality, which has literally imploded, to the point of madness, to where she can no longer even begin to comprehend what a genuine loving impulse would feel like.

This is a graphic portrait of a severe emotional cripple, one who never found the strength to get out of her childhood situation and become a functioning adult. I think this subject relates to all of us - we're all striving for autonomy, but there are needs, so many conflicting needs, most of which are not even on the conscious level. It also deals brilliantly with the contrast between what one fantasizes about, sexually, and the reality of those fantasies, as well as the consequences of choosing to share one's sexual fantasies with another human being. Huppert's character gets what she asks for in the course of the film, and it is hardly the emancipating experience she had imagined it to be.

Regarding the much-discussed scene in the bathroom: I really appreciated how this sequence had all the possible erotic charge (for the viewer, I mean) sucked out of it because of the prior scene, where she put the glass in the girl's pocket. By the time she's acting out her let's-see-if-this-guy-is-worthy scenario in the bathroom, we've already found out that she's dangerously disturbed and so it's not a turn on, her little domination session with our poor unsuspecting dupe.

I think another incredible achievement of this movie is how, about halfway through it, I completely forgot that it was not in English and that I was reading sub-titles. That has never happened before, in any foreign movie, and I've seen quite a few.

In this film, like Cache, the ending is not all wrapped up in a nice little tidy bow, but unlike Cache, we do at least get some sense of finality, despite the fact that we do not even know for sure whether Huppert's character is alive or dead. After experiencing La Pianiste, when it comes to Michael Haneke, I am, needless to say, more than a trifle intrigued.


Isabelle Huppert portrays a talented female piano teacher who is staid, unfriendly and distant in public, and bitter towards her students. Privately, she seethes with violence and frustration, and her sexual life is solitary and perverse. She lives with her overbearing mother, who obsessively drives her to become noticed (and so advance in life) as a talented pianist. The key to the characters of both mother and daughter is 'obsession.' These characters cannot change their impulses anymore than a rabbit caught in headlights can avoid death.

The piano teacher meets a young, attractive, talented pianist who from the beginning is attracted to her. They start a relationship in the most unconventional way, but from the outset she makes perverse and violent terms that he must perform on her, which sickens him enough to want to terminate the relationship before it has really begun.

The film ties itself to the female lead. Isabelle Huppert amazes with a brutal, completely convincing performance as the piano teacher. She cleverly shows a woman who is drawn to beauty and perversion, but her violence is fed by her perverted impulses. As a film that is so character driven, you know it would not work half as well, had she acted poorly.

This is powerful, intelligently acted, and intelligently and sensitively adapted from the novel. The camera work also suits the film. There are what I can only think to call, framing shots where the director holds a scene and forces the eye to dart about. This is done extremely effectively against a blank bathroom wall, and is a further testament to the director's mastery.

Expect to be disturbed and sickened by this film. But, be brave - have the guts to go and see it. This is a very private look into essentially one person's life, but do not expect to be entertained in the Hollywood sense....there are no car chases in this film!


I totally disagree with the comments of one of the critics before me who bashed the film. Having read the book, being impressed by it although this is a kind of literature that you cannot really LIKE (similar to Hubert Selby's writing) I expected being shocked but the effect was more subtle than this. Isabelle Hubert is a brilliant actress who manages to convey a multi-layered character. There are many scenes that totally focus on her and her subtle changes and I can imagine few actresses who would do so well, with so much disregard for their own reputation or image. There is this coldness, distance, cruelty and at the same time there's this helplessness, hurt and pain. There's a person who's in control and controlled at the same time. Maybe this is not realistic - although when you read the newspaper you'll read about much worse than this - but there's a truth to it that is very difficult to bear. I think it's an excellent film but I did not enjoy watching it.It's not boring but there are times when I wished it would end. BTW, her male counterpart is very well acted as well (and I think well chosen, too).


First of all, I must say that I love this film.

It was the first film that I saw from director Micheal Haneke and I was impressed that how good the direction was good !

Haneke surely knows how to direct actors. What I found intresting is also Haneke's scenario. At first, you saw a woman who is very straight and seems to be a good piano teacher and very well loved and respected from everybody in her entourage. Then you realise that she has a mother who is a controle freak and is too much present in her life. Now you know that she is deranged, that she has emotional problems, but you don't know exactly what. And then you fall into her dark side, but her dark side is only reveal when a student sendenly fall in love with her. She can't controled herself anymore.

The roles are very complexed and difficult to play, but Isabelle Huppert is marvellous in her role and she deserves the recognition she had at Cannes Festival. Benoit Maginel is very solid too, but a little bit eclipse by Huppert's performance.

There is one thing that I found strange in the scenario is how the character played by Magimel is not very credible. He is too talented! It is rare that a person is a piano virtuoso, but pass the most of the his time to play hockey and study... It think that it is a weak point, but only a minor flaw.

I just saw the movie once, so I can't do a very complete critic, because I didn't analysed the movie. I like what I saw ! so I give the film a 8.5/10

Oh yeah... as for the end, Haneke showed that he really wanted to shock his audience. A motivation that don't think is necessary to make movies, but Haneke does it with style and precision, that is why his film is better than Baise-Moi for example.

Vince


Overall I found this film good: exceptional acting with disturbing scenes (some essential, some useless) and weak second half. CONTAINS SPOILERS The film is divided in 2 parts. I thought the first half of the Pianist was terrific. We meet Erika Kohut (wonderful Isabelle Huppert), a piano teacher, and get introduced to her world. She is single, struggling to find her space against an over-protective and borderline tyrannic mother. We understand that she has lost or has seldom experienced love as a physical+emotional chemistry: she protects herself by being sharp and offensive to people, releases her sexual tensions in sex-shops, as a voyeur, or in sadistic self-mutilations ... This first half is very clinical and builds an incredible tension in the film, almost unbearable.

Then comes Walter, a young, handsome and outgoing man (played superbly by Benoit Magimel). Though he gets to feel Erika's coldness in the beginning, he seduces her and slowly wreaks Erika's fortress. He loves her deeply but she needs him to fulfil her sadistic desires. Then when she is about to fall for him, he is disgusted by her world and in the end we discover that Erika is unable to love or feel at all (especially since Walter is portrayed as someone impossible not to love). This is the second half of the film, very touching as we see Erika's inability/inexperience to love lead her to self-destruction. This second half seemed less mastered by Haneke, and sometimes had non-credible (ie. too shocking) scenes which paradoxically lessened the drama.

Of course, this is a crude film at least in the French version: you see porn sequences from the sex shop, daring mutilation and sex scenes. The much talked-about fellatio scene between Magimel and Huppert was quite good I thought, and is central to understand Erika's sick relation to love. As to the actors, Huppert is marvelous all through the film, Magimel gets better and better up to perfection, and Girardot (the mother) is excellent.


If it is true that sadomasochism is a two-sided coin which contains the whole in the diverse expression of its opposites, then the cinematic portrait of Erika Kohut has its reality. Professor Kohut treats her piano students with a kind of fascist sadism while longing for the same for herself. Her outward expression projects her desire. That is why she can hurt without guilt or remorse.

Along comes talented, charming, handsome young Walter Klemmer (Benoit Magimel) who is attracted to her because of her passion and her intensity. He wants to become her student so as to be close to her. She rejects him out of hand, but because of his talent the Vienna conservatory votes him in. He falls in love with her. Again she pushes him away, but he will not take no for an answer, and thereby begins his own descent into depravity and loss of self-respect.

The question the viewer might ask at this point is, who is in control? The sadist or the masochist? Indeed who is the sadist and who the masochist? It is hard to tell. Is it the person who has just been greatly abused both psychologically and physically, who is actually lying wounded on the floor in grotesque triumphant and fulfillment, or is it the person who is rushing out the door, sated, giving the order that no one is to know what happened.

But Erika is not just a sadomasochistic freak. She is a sex extreme freak. She wants to experience the extremes of human sexuality while maintaining the facade of respectability. Actually that isn't even true. She says she doesn't care what others think. She doesn't care if they walk in and find her bleeding on the floor because she is in love. Love, she calls it. For her sex and love are one and the same.

At one point Walter tells her that love isn't everything. How ironic such a superfluity is to her. How gratuitous the comment.

The movie is beautifully cut and masterfully directed by Michael Haneke who spins the tale with expert camera work and carefully constructed sets in which the essence of the action is not just clear but exemplified (as in the bathroom when Walter propels himself high above the top of the stall to find Erika within). He also employs a fine positioning of the players so that they are always where they should be with well timed cuts from one angle to another. This is particularly important in the scene in which Erika, like a blood-drained corpse caught in stark white and black light, lies under her lover, rigid as stone. Here for the most part we only see her face and the stark outline of her neck with its pulsating artery. We don't need to see any more.

The part of Erika Kohut is perfect for Isabelle Huppert who is not afraid of extremes; indeed she excels in them. I have seen her in a number of movies and what she does better than almost anyone is become the character body and soul. Like the woman she plays in this movie she is unafraid of what others may think and cares little about her appearance in a decorative sense. What matters to her is the performance and the challenge. No part is too demanding. No character too depraved. It's as if Huppert wants to experience all of humanity, and wants us to watch her as she does. She is always fascinating and nearly flawless. She is not merely a leading light of the French cinema; she is one of the great actresses of our time who has put together an amazingly diverse body of work.

I think it is highly instructive and affords us a wonderful and striking contrast to compare her performance here with her performance in The Lacemaker (La Dentellière) from 1977 when she was 22 years old. There she was apple sweet in her red hair and freckles and her pretty face and her cute little figure playing Pomme, a Parisian apprentice hairdresser. Her character was shy about sex and modest--just an ordinary French girl who hoped one day to be a beautician. Here she is a self-destructive witch, bitter with hateful knowledge of herself, shameless and entirely depraved.

Huppert is fortunate in being an actress in France where there are parts like this for women past the age of starlets. (Hollywood could never make a movie like this.) In the American cinema, only a handful of the very best and hardest working actresses can hope to have a career after the age of about thirty. Huppert greatly increases her exposure because of her ability and range, but also because she is willing to play unsympathetic roles, here and also in La Cérémonie (1995) in which she plays a vile, spiteful murderess.

Do see this for Isabelle Huppert. You won't forget her or the character she brings to life.


This is a superb game for the N64 with superb graphics and a great one-player story-line and even better multi-player game best played with 4 people.

The many levels and options for weapons mean that this is one of the best games around for years.


Two years after its initial release, Goldeneye still sits atop the field of first-person shooters for the Nintendo 64. Even the Quake and Turok series have not had the combination of graphic detail, sound quality, enemy intelligence, challenge and overall fun that bring me back to this game over and over again. The missions each have specific objectives that force you to think as Bond, not just to shoot up every baddie that pops up on your screen, but also to avoid cameras, disable security systems, rescue hostages, protect the Bond girl, and so on. Q gadgets abound in this game, including the famous watch. The game is loosely based on the movie storyline, including all the major characters and the best scenes of the movie, from the dam bungee-jump to the prop-plane escape to the tank chase through St. Petersburg. Even the layout is preserved where possible, so you'll recognize various situations if you've seen the film. Other levels are added to challenge the player and string together the scenes a little more. With each difficulty level the mission objectives are more difficult, the enemies smarter and the bullets more lethal. I still have not gotten through the 00-Agent levels. Cheats can be opened, not by entering codes or pushing buttons, but by completing certain levels within a certain time frame, and additional characters can be opened up for the multiplayer. The multiplayer is still the best among the first-person shooters. It's not as crisp as Turok but it doesn't slow down nearly as much... tons of options give your friends reason to blow each other up over and over again, and one more time just for kicks. There are better games for the N64, such as Zelda and all things Star Wars, but Rare has continued their streak of outstanding games with a first-person shooter that has not and will not be surpassed until they top themselves in 2000 with Perfect Dark.


The best bond game made of all systems. It was made of the best bond movie of all time. If you don't have the game Goldeneye you should rent it and if you don't have the movie Goldeneye you should rent it also to better understand the game. The best bond game of all!!!


I was actually satisfied when i played this game.The graphics were something new.The missions were great.But yet,I felt i wanted more out of this game.For a James Bond game its pretty good but not as good as his other games.It would be great if they could make a 360Remake for it.It would be much better then.This may just be cuz I'm into games as Resident evil,Dead rising and those kind of games.So it could be better but it was OK to play.One thing i absolutely hated about this game was Natalya!She was irritating dying all the time and she couldn't run either.I recommend this game for those who like FPS games more than i do.7/10 STARS


Movie about two Australian girls--Debbie (Nell Schofield) and Sue (Sue Knight)--and what happens when they become girlfriends of two surfer guys.

I caught this at an art cinema here in America in 1981. Technically I was still a teenager (I was 19) so I was interested in seeing how Australian teens acted. Script wise there's nothing new here. It shows the usual teenage adventures dealing with dating, sex, suicide etc etc. I always knew what was going to happen before it did but I was never bored. What I found interesting was, despite the accent and a few changes in clothes and hair, these teenagers aren't much different than American teens. They had many of the same difficulties and hang-ups. Also this was based on a book from a real surfer girl and her true life adventures and (I heard) it was a faithful adaptation of it. The acting was just OK but the actors were attractive and this was well-made and pretty interesting. So this is no unsung masterpiece but a pretty accurate portrayal of what it's like being a teenager and trying to be with the popular kids. I give it a 7.


I don't know if I'd go as far as to say that this movie belongs to the 'Aussie trash' pile, but it's fair to say that there are no Academy Award nominees here. What must be considered is that most of the actors in this film weren't actually actors as such, just kids with nothing better to do at the time. There were many others that were offered roles in the film but turned them down to go surfing up the coast; all things taken into account, it really wasn't a bad movie for its time. In some respects it's really not unlike today's times, where peer pressure is still alive and kicking, just without the mobile phones, computers and other similar gadgets that kids lived without, unlike this generation. Anyway, I have to rate this flick as an old fave that I watch once in a blue moon and never take too seriously...


Debbie Vickers (Nell Schofield) and Sue Knight (Jad Capelja) want to become one of the cool girls in their high school. Uncool and ugly girls had two options, be a mole or a prude! Debbie and Sue imitate them by using their cheating practices in an exam. Two of the cool boys, Garry (Goeff Rhoe) and Danny (Tony Hughes) ask them for their answers and they all get busted. After a bawling out from the headmaster (Bud Tingwell) the cool girls meet them outside in the playground and confronted them about whether they "dobbed" on them all. As Debbie and Sue hadn't the cool girls invited them to the "dunnies" for a smoke. They then start to hang with them on weekends at the beach, watching all the boys surf. Sue ends up going out with Danny and Debbie with Garry. A lot of usual teenage action takes place including sex, drugs and rock and roll. Garry has an eventual overdose of heroin which makes Debbie face the inequalities of life and she decides to learn to surf instead of just watching the boys. They are not happy but watch her, calling names, and eventually Debbie masters the board. A cool early 80s Aussie film.


Would you like to know why French and Italians love/hate each others? Would you like to have a glimpse of history that drives our lifetime? So, go to watch Virzi's film (in original language, of course) and you can look at a wonderful Monica Bellucci who finally speaks her native language from Città di Castello (Umbria, just at the border with Tuscany). And the rest of the characters speaking Livornese (lovely Sabrina Impacciatore and all the others). Daniel Auteuil definitely in his shoes with Napoleon. A lot of fun, a real fresco of the Elba Island landscape, and a picture about the political reasons to kill or leave alive a tyrant (good for all times).


Martino, a young teacher in the island of Elba, has been formed by Maestro Fontanelli, an excellent educator, to be his own man and to say whatever he thinks, something that gets him in trouble at the school where we first meet him because he is teaching revolutionary ideals. The island is in a frenzy because of the arrival of one of the most influential men in European history of the 19th century. Napoleon is coming to his exile, not exactly a high point in his life.

With surprise, Martino is chosen to accompany Napoleon who is writing his memoirs and is in need of help for his own project. The young man comes from a sea merchant family. His brother and sister want him to go on an commercial expedition, but Martino has decided his place belongs in Elba because he will try to assassinate Napoleon. Little deters him after his mentor Fontanelli is tried for treason and condemned to be shot by a firing squad.

Martino finds his consolation with the much older Baroness Emilia, a beautiful woman. In his own interaction with the deposed emperor, a different kind of man emerges. Napoleon is seen as a more human person who really enjoys the company of Martino, not suspecting with the plans the young man's own plans for him. Unfortunately, Martino is not able to put his design into action because Napoleon has other plans in mind.

Paolo Virzi, the director of "Caterina va in citta", shows why his early promise is still there. Mr. Virzi also collaborated with the screenplay, which is based on a novel by Ernesto Ferrero. The director shows he is as good in intimate drama as well as with this type of spectacle. Alessandro Pesci, the cinematographer, does an excellent job with the images he was able to get.

Elio Germano, a young Italian actor is the best thing in the movie. He is playing against more experienced players, yet he manages to convince us he is the idealist youth trying to get justice to what he perceives is a noble cause. The great Daniel Auteuil is a more subdued Napoleon than one would expect from anyone's interpretation of this larger than life man. Monica Belucci is the love interest of Martino, but she has little to do. Omero Antonutti plays Fontanelli.


Screened this morning for the press at Roma film festival, "N - io e Napoleone" is easy to love. First of all it can count on great production values, as very few Italian films nowadays can, with wonderful settings and costumes. The cast is great too. Director Virzì constantly speaks of the young lead Elio Germano as "a young De Niro". Now, of course he is going a way too far, but sure the boy can act. I loved his performance, and he did a great job with the (tuscan) accent. Daniel Auteuil is a great actor and did very well as Bonaparte. It's really great to see him acting in Italian, I hope to see him working in Italy again very soon. The supporting cast worked well too - people like Valerio Mastrandrea or Sabrina Impacciatore may seem unlikely choices, but they all gave fine performances. Even Massimo Ceccherini, best known for appearing in his own moronic films and in trashy TV reality shows, fitted in well and was actually funny. The low point of the cast was the "Diva" Monica Bellucci. Sure, she was slightly better than usual, but she managed to look (and sound) utterly unnatural even in the part of baronessa Emilia, in which, with a good dose of self irony, she used her own umbro accent. The script, by veteran Furio Scarpelli and Virzì himself is clever, with lots of laugh out loud lines, and a few very emotional moments too. Sure, the ending left me puzzled. The message is kind of ambiguous: the whole film says that political ideals can bring you to blind hate, but if you get closer you will learn that the object of your hate is after all a little human being like everyone else, sometimes funny, sometimes sad, sometimes pathetic, so that suddenly it's difficult to hate him; then, in the last few minutes it says that after all it would have been better to shoot him in the head at the beginning. Personally, I dislike very much this notion. "Io e Napoleone" is still a pleasant film, the best presented at the Festival so far (the other being Fur and the Hoax). My rating is 8/10


I learned a thing: you have to take this film like a funny period comedy, if you don't want to be disappointed. The film's enjoyable because it's a delicious comedy. I think the over-hype damaged it: the too much glorified Monica Bellucci appears in few scenes and isn't so good as they wanted to let you believe. She sounds unnatural, false: the best actress in this film is Sabrina Impacciatore, who speaks with a perfect Tuscan accent and shines together with Massimo Ceccherini. Elio Germano is very, very good: the most promising young Italian actor, according to me. Daniel Auteuil looks like Napoleon, but I preferred other actors. So, the most hyped performances were also the worst.

Costumes and production design are okay: sure, American period movies are more accurate about these things because have bigger budgets, but the Italian ability rewards the lack of money. A nice period comedy, in short, with a first-rate casting (except for Bellucci and Auteuil).


I found it charming! Nobody else but Kiarostami can do so little and, yet, get so much. You might think I'm weird, but I was so charmed that I couldn't speak during the movie. While during other movies I comment a lot. The short movie made by him for Lumiere et Companie, the one with the eggs, that one is unbeatable in my heart, but this is wonderful, too. I liked it better than Ten. Kiarostami is, maybe, the best director in my opinion, because he can see things! He doesn't need to use a lot of stuff "brought from home" to illustrate his images, he simply grabs a camera. Not many can do that.. Maybe I don't know to much about movies but I don't care about complicate stuff, all someone has to do is touch my soul. Kiarostami does.


This movie gives Daniel Wu his chance to do a great action movie, but I really find Emil Chow's character really great, gutsy but determined to righting wrongs. Plus the main terrorist, it gets me wondering his revolution, makes me wonder if he is doing this for good or bad.

A movie that tells us about Todd, an amnesiac terrorist being tricked as an undercover until he learns who he really is. The consequences that he makes from his terrorist family, gives him a the choice of redemption.

Purple Storm was one of the best ones that I have seen this year. The movie really stands out when it is filled with tremendous action scenes set-up by Stephen Tung Wai, which won the best action sequences in the Hong Kong Awards. (9/10)


Here we've got an intelligent mixture of typical hongkongmovieshootouts, worlddestructionthemes and intelligent filmmaking. Not that the script has not its big holes and a few specialeffects are a bit cheaplooking. But the cinematography is a optical treat and the soundtrack is first rate. The blend of fast actionsequences and colorful slow, sometimes nearly poetic parts, has no comparison in its kind of movie, so a classification is rather hard. The closest genre is a disaster or terroristmovie with deeper human and political notes than usual. Well worth to be seen worldwide in cinemas. But i am hoping this for so many other (mostly asian) movies before and nobody seems to believe me. Unfortunately.


I started watching this expecting the worst, i was happy to find that the film turned out to be enjoyable, slightly confusing in parts, like when they all justs started singing. It gave me a chance to see Daniel Wu in action for the first time, he is a better actor than i thought, at times he seemed a bit out of place. I thought purple storm deserves its Hong kong legends release, as it is different to most other HK films, it is about a mans emotional struggles when confronted with memory loss, it may sound corny but when he eventually pieces out what and who he actually is it really makes the film a lot more interesting. Once you get into the film you will find it keeps you gripped to it, as if you miss one bit then a lot of the film wil make sense, for example i missed a bit at the start and i recommend to anyone that watches this that they do not miss any of it. So i can say that this film was worth watching and a grateful surprise for me, that i enjoyed it.


Labeling this film a "lesbian love story" is about as accurate as calling Pride & Prejudice a "straight love story." There's just so much more to it than that.

Yes, the main character is a lesbian, but her story is classic bildungsroman, a journey from childhood to adulthood, from sexual innocence into maturity, from personal blindness to self- discovery. There is a stylistic element of camp to the film's direction, but it is not a hindrance; rather it serves to underscore the staged and dramatic parts of the main character's life.

Those who know Anna Chancellor from the BBC version of Pride and Prejudice will certainly be amazed with her here. Rachael Stirling is stellar as the main character Nan, and Keeley Hawes is all wide-eyed goodness as her lover Kitty Butler. Chancellor might have the stand out role, that is aside from Sally Hawkins who plays Zena Butler. This film is not for the faint of heart, but it's not a piece of pro-gay advertising either. It's a real story, with real comedy and drama, an engaging story with compelling characters, and well worth watching.


Tipping the Velvet has just three weeks ago been released in the UK and already I watch as countless letters flood to the national papers and TV guides, claiming that it possesses a thin plot, weak performances and an even weaker script.

You find me incensed. This is heresy.

I would really like to dispel all doubt by first congratulating Andrew Davies on enabling Geoffrey Sax to create this wonderful dramatization of Sarah Waters' novel by cushioning him with such a fantastic script. Kudos. But I fear I must now change tack.

I saw one of the premiere TV guides here in the UK (which shall remain nameless) relentlessly describing Tipping the Velvet as a "lesbian love story". If they are, and I assume they are, trying to promote interest in the film, then this is completely the wrong way to go about it (aside from the phrase being a disappointingly inaccurate description). By saying such a thing, they are either a) turning away those who would instinctively be repelled by "that" subject matter or b) attracting a class of people who will only watch to see some "serious girl-on-girl action". Buy a video! Through this display of serious inconsideration, this and other magazines are cheapening what is a brilliant adaptation of one of recent literature's greatest works. Tipping the Velvet is a story of love, of passion, of moving on, of loss, and of heartbreak. It's not a lesbian love story. No siree.

The end result is a stylish affair, with excellent performances all round (particularly from Stirling, Hawes, Chancellor and May). Direction-wise, it's intoxicating and immersive - sometimes, fast-paced, sometimes not - but it never ceases to be anything less than compelling. As a whole, it's polished and well delivered, the sex is undertaken with tenderness and delicacy - and although many will not class it as a real "film", it will remain among my favourites for some time to come.


This wonderful 3 part BBC production is one of the sweetest love stories that I have seen in a while. The actresses display a very high level of talent, especially Rachael Stirling as Nan Astley. She is funny, seductive and cute. The love making scenes and the close up kisses are very erotic regardless of one's sexual preference.

The characters are well defined and very believable. I guess this is a by-product of a good adaptation from a well written novel.

A truly remarkable well paced drama that picks up speed quickly after a couple of boring (but necessary) scenes in the beginning.

My vote: 9/10