Andrei Tarkovsky on his 16th birthday with a cat
Ivanovo detstvo/Ivan’s Childhood (1962, Andrei Tarkovsky)
The complexly choreographed sequence involving Masha’s encounter with Kholin in the birch forest is one of the most iconic shots in cinema, symbolizing the need for help in hard times, a moment of connection above the void, a desperate act of human contact. The camera tracks their movements at a distance before joining them, finally, in a strange, low-angle embrace over a small trench. The shot begins from a low point of view, and then, when Masha tries to jump over the ditch and is intercepted by Kholin, who holds her in the air and kisses her, the camera goes down below ground level and records the scene from within the ditch, to soon thereafter rise sharply up and continue rolling at eye level with the characters. (1, 2)
(Source: nefertiti)
STALKER (ANDREI TARKOVSKY, 1979)
saw an imported russian 35mm print last night @ the gene siskel; it was absolutely gorgeous (although, of course, the projection sucked; the picture was cropped)! after the show, gregory verkhovsky, assistant cameraman on the film, exhibited an experimental short film displaying his on-set photography (which was beautiful) and gave a q&a via a (poor) translator. people asked dumb questions like “what was tarkovsky’s inspiration for this movie?” and “what was the censorship like; was this movie censored?”
verkhovsky reported that preparation and planning for a scene (on location) would take at least an entire day (the zone footage was shot nearby two abandoned hydroelectric stations in estonia; scenes staged just outside of the zone were shot on the site of an abandoned chemical plant). the crew would shoot each morning between the hours of 7am and 10am (for the natural lighting as well as the emergence of fog). about 7 to 9 takes of the same scene were typically shot. after shooting, preparation for the next scene would begin. from his descriptions, the crew was very serious-minded and worked tremendously hard. although tarkovsky was revered as a genius, his cameramen argued with him frequently. apparently, the day-long preparations were given little and only verbal instruction from tarkovsky and the cinematographer was permitted to work fairly independently. given the complexity and length of many of the shots (there are 142 shots in the 163 minute length of the film; many that last more than 4 minutes), and especially certain environmental constraints (verkhovsky recalled the bitter coldness of the river water and the morning air), it’s difficult to imagine the totality of the planning and prep stages. it’s further complicating knowing that story-boarding and close direction was not utilized. nonetheless, the cinematographic dreaminess of the picture transcends and denies the mechanical and arduous production process. indeed, stalker has amongst it some of the purest and most carefully beautiful sequences i have ever seen (e.g. the flatcar ride into the zone, the writer’s defiant march toward a house in the zone, the camera’s movement through a rusty and abandoned car, etc.).
need this on my dash, N.
Polaroid by Andrei Tarkovsky
