input: The legend of Andrei Konchalovsky's towering 4 and a half hour poem to Siberia is not to begin at once, because it must hold back for space, because it takes its time in roundabout explorations of half-remembered childhood memories in a turn-of-the-century backwoods village, yet the movie goes on picking up steam building in emotional resonance as though even the sounds and images which compose it become imbued by sheer association with their subject matter with that quality of fierce tireless quiet dignity that characterizes the Soviet working spirit. Konchalovsky celebrates Soviet collectivity but in an almost revisionist way to paeans like Soy Cuba and Invincible the mood turns somber and reflective. News of the revolution reach the secluded Siberian village through the grapevine. The fruits of its labor reach it only when a world war calls for the young men to enlist. Through all this, Konchalovksy zeroes in on the individual, with care and affection to examine the bitter longing and regret of the woman who waited 6 years after the war for a fiance who never came back, waited long enough to go out and become a barmaid in a ship with velvet couches and which she quit years later to come back to her village to care for an aging uncle who killed the fiance's father with an axe, the irreverent folly of the fiance who came back from the war a hero 20 years too late, came back not for the sake of the girl he left behind but to drill oil for the motherland, the despair and resignation of the middle-aged Regional Party Leader who comes back to his small Siberian village with the sole purpose of blotting it out of the map to build a power plant. The movie segues from decade to decade from the 10's to the 80's with amazing newsreel footage trailing Soviet history from the revolution to war famine and the titanic technological achievements of an empire (terrific visuals here! all kinetic violence and skewed angles and flickering cramped shots of crowds and faces) but the actual movie focuses on the individual, on triumphs and follies small and big. By the second half a sense of bittersweet fatalism creeps in; of broken lives that never reached fulfillment choking with regret and yearning. "It can't matter", seems like the world is saying, to which Konchalovksy answers "it must matter" because the protagonists keep on trying for redemption.

Yet behind this saga of 'man against landscape' something seems to hover, shadowy, almost substanceless, like the Eternal Old Man hermit who appears in every segment to guide or repudiate the protagonists, sometimes a mere spectactor, sometimes the enigmatic sage; a little behind and above all the other straightforward and logical incomprehensible ultimatums challenges and affirmations of the human characters, something invisible seems to lurk. Ghosts of the fathers appearing in sepia dreams, repeated shots of a star gleaming in the nightsky, a curious bear, indeed the Eternal Old Man himself; Konchalovksy calls for awe and reverence before a mystical land of some other order. In its treatment of a small backwoods community struggling against nature progress and time and in the ways it learns to deal with them, often funny bizarre and tragic at the same time, and in how the director never allows cynicism to override his humanism, it reminds me of Shohei Imamura's The Profound Desires of the Gods. When, in a dream scene, Alexei tears through the planks of a door on which is plastered a propaganda poster of Stalin to reach out at his (dead) father as he vanishes in the fog, the movie hints at the betrayal of the Soviet Dream, or better yet, at all the things lost in the revolution, this betrayal made more explicit in the film's fiery denouement. The amazing visuals, elegiac and somber with a raw naturalist edge, help seal the deal. By the end of it, an oil derric erupts in flames and the movie erupts in a wild explosion of pure cinema.

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pos/neg ans: positive

input: Uneven Bollywood drama. Karisma Kapoor is excellent as an Indian woman in Canada who marries a friend (Sanjay Kapoor), has a child, and then visits his family in India only to find they are terrorist warlords. Drama and tragedy ensue, and the film becomes a kind of NOT WITHOUT MY BABY styled thriller. Film is compelling, its few song/dance numbers are uninteresting and needless, the gaity of Bollywood song and dance is really out of character for the intensity of this film's drama, at least once we've left the comforting confines of their Canadian love nest although one number involving a cameo by the stunning Aishwarya Rai is enjoyably provocative, if ultimately misplaced as well. Likewise, the inclusion of Bollywood superstar Shahrukh Khan as a happy-go-lucky drifter who helps Kapoor in her escape from the clutches of the warlord turns what had been a very serious drama into a silly farce, and it only gets back on his feet when his character and his fantasies about Rai that generate her cameo dance are dispensed with. His throw-away comic-book dialog and the silliness of his fight scenes detract from the film's primary gripping drama. The cast is nicely supported by Nana Patekar as the warlord, and the elegant Deepti Naval who is outstanding as his long-suffering wife who finally choses to stand up against him in one of the film's best scenes; Ritu Shivpuri and Rajshree Solanki are also very good as Sanjay's sisters in India, and very pleasing eye candy. But Sanjay himself overacts terribly, especially during obvious ad-libs. The directorial style of writer/director Krishna Wamsi is sloppy, rampant with rough transitions and abrupt cuts, although his camera movement is good. The musical underscore is also quite effective, moody, featuring wordless female voice over a small orchestral ensemble (too bad little if any of that made it onto SHAKTI's soundtrack cd, but Bollywood hasn't yet discovered the value of including score along with songs on their soundtrack albums, at least not in most cases). But SHAKTI is Karisma Kapoor's film, all the way, though, and the intensity of her performance once the film switches to India contrasts nicely with the gentle romance with which she engaged with Sanjay in the initial Canadian scenes. Despite the unevenness of much of the picture, Karisma's performance completely sells the film and solidifies its otherwise inconsistent measures. In a strange way, also, I found the story to be another take on the ostentation of royalty I'd noticed in CURSE OF THE GOLDEN FLOWER and MARIE ANTOINETTE, both of which I'd seen just prior, although SHAKTI of course is an entirely different kind of film; but the focus on a dysfunctional royal family here living in the austerity of terrorism-controlled poverty in India rather than the elegance of Versailles or the massive megalomania of feudal China's Tang Dynasty whose self-serving seeking of power brings ruin upon many others and forces an uprising of one kind or another provides the film with a notable subtext.

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pos/neg ans:
positive