On Tarkovsky — from a first-time viewer
My purpose is to make films that will help people to live, even if they sometimes cause unhappiness.
Andrei Tarkovsky
Most known for his poetry in cinema, his abstractness in artistry, and his philosophy in film, Andrei Tarkovsky (1932–1986), born in Zavrazh’e, Russia, is one of the most revolutionary directors of his time.
His mother, Maria Vishnakova, worked as a proofreader, while his father, Arsney Tarkovsky was a poet and a translator. Andrei tends to integrate some of his father’s poetry in his films, and reference his views on motherhood frequently, but especially in Mirror (1975). Tarkovsky is widely considered as a magician in his field, especially in representing the depth of cinematography and the feel of dreams and unconsciousness of the human psyche.
The first movie I watched for Tarkovsky was The sacrifice (1986), which ironically, is his final film. It was extremely difficult to sit through. It took me two days to watch it, and I was very confused having not read about or watched any context on Tarkovsky.
I think there is some type of beauty in watching movies in that way — for it somehow allows our opinions and feelings toward the film to flow so naturally and only be so raw. I only read and watched videos on Tarkovsky upon finishing the film, and a lot of what I heard was almost entirely what I had felt, but put into better words. I fully resonated with the term that refers to Tarkovsky’s films as “Abstract art”.
I had never seen or heard so many descriptions that are usually used for images, paintings, and poems, but for a style in film. Another accurate frequent description on his work is “poetry in motion”, “philosophy of film”, and most importantly “sacred cinema”.
That really is just the way to put it.
My experience while watching The Sacrifice was rather, someting unique. Something I had never felt before while watching a film. There was a sort of comfort in the discomfort. A sort of calmness admits the chaos. Almost all throughout halfway through the film, I was trying to guess the plot. The story line. Who is who and what is the main conflict and what is going to happen next. I soon realized there wasn’t so much of a linear structured plot nor a logical coherent story. Something that I can’t exactly put into words.
But I was patient.
Mainly because I felt connected to the characters and deeply drawn to the dialogue. I was also trying to interpret what the purpose behind the roles were, what each character represented, what certain conversations really meant. But later on, I figured that that’s where I went wrong. Apparently, Tarkovsky has stated many times that he doesn’t want the viewers to looks for symbols and motifs, nor does he want there to be any deeper meaning than what is.
After finding out about this information, it became a lot easier to understand and sit through his films. I watched purely for the enjoyment of his art, and removed the thought of trying to understand what things meant. This however, is one of the most difficult things for the viewers. All we want to do is try and interpret what things mean. What certain references tie to. What certain images represent.
Tarkovsky doesn’t want us to think of the bigger picture. He just wants us to sit through and let ourselves feel cinema, rather than understand it —
To quote Robert Bresson’s quote:
“I’d rather people feel a film before understanding it”.
Tarkovksky took lots of inspiration from Bresson’s style in film, which he often spoke about in interviews.
It’s not a surprise that they both have the same mentality on the depth of cinema. But in the grand scheme of things, there really is nothing or no one to compare Tarkovsky to. He really is a tier on his own. What I love most about his opinion of film is that he views it merely as a form of art, and more specifically, a form of self expression. And self expression in the sense that one must view art as a result of the world that surrounds them, and expression in the means of portraying the suffering of the human condition and the flaws within the life that surrounds us.
An artist never works under ideal conditions. If they existed, his work
wouldn’t exist, for the artist doesn’t live in a vacuum. Some sort of
pressure must exist. The artist exists because the world is not
perfect. Art would be useless if the world were perfect, as man
wouldn’t look for harmony but would simply live in it. Art is born out
of an ill-designed world. — Andrei Tarkovsky
I’m guilty of searching for meaning in Tarkovsky. Under one condition, which is only upon the completion of his films. Otherwise I’ll be too distracted in search for meaning and lose the pure enjoyment of his films. But reading about him and watching videos on him from people of different backgrounds and experiences truly allows for a better experience when watching. And I allowed myself to learn more and more about him, where he came from, and what allowed his work to become revolutionary in the world of cinema.
“If you look for a meaning, you’ll miss everything that happens.” — Andrei Tarkovsky
Even though Tarkovsky doesn’t want us to search for meaning, it is only natural for us as humans to do so. Because there is so much portrayed on screen that may be ‘out of context’. Once I learned the simple fact that he was born not too long before the Second World War, things made more sense. It is only so likely that the circumstances that surrounded him would have a significant impact on his formative years contributing to a greater influence on the subject matter and approach to his films.
What I love most about Tarkovsky’s perspective and purpose behind his films is that he wants to simply portray the reality of the human condition, and propel towards the search for ‘ the truth’.
“For Tarkovsky the world is a messy place, and although his films are spiritual investigations, they are set in sometimes filthy worlds. This is part of Tarkovsky’s filmic ‘realism’. The real world is chaotic (but people are a lot messier than nature, with their vast, industrial pollution). Films that try to present the world as a clinically clean place usually tend to look artificial. This kind of artificiality Tarkovsky hates, being a searcher for ‘the truth’ In this sense, his wet, dark, dirty images seem truer than most of film and television. There is a conflict between the worlds of shit and spirit in Tarkovsky’s sacred cinema,” — Jeremy Mark Roberson, “The Sacred Cinema of Tarkovsky”
The second movie I watched was Mirror (1975). This one was an even harder watch than The Sacrifice. I was the most confused I had ever been while watching a movie, and I thought there was something I had missed, soemthing I did wrong for completely not being aware of what was going on. Only when I realized that there was the same actress playing multiple characters did I finally understand (or thought I did). I had never thought that was possible in film. A true redefining in the art form of film, and it takes a lot of courage to do that. There is no greater more beautiful portrayal of dreams and memories, especially of someone on their deathbed. The representation of motherhood is only so accurate to real life and so real. It was a sort of auto-biographical story, often interpreted as a reflection of Tarkovsky’s childhood.
The most recent film of his which I watched which I truly loved and resonated with so much, Stalker (1979). The dialogue goes beyond just words. The way the film follows through the journey of just the three characters so eloquently and fluently is one of the most poetic and artistic forms of expression of cinema I have ever experienced. At some point, their conversations truly started to feel like the different voices in our heads, constantly fighting one another. The continuous rotations between colored and black and white playing with the viewers’ heads. I soon realized that it turned to black and white when they were at home, and back to color when they were on their journey. I wonder what Tarkovsky was trying to do with that. And the frequent close ups to the dirt under the water, followed with a long shot with the camera far away from the subject. It constantly felt like something really bad was going to happen, but it never did. The whole time I felt like I was on my toes, waiting for someone to get seriously hurt. There is something about the sound of water dropping into the puddles and adding so much noise to the loud silence.
There are so many recurrent things which I noticed in his films. Like the recurrent themes of water (rain), fire (the burning house), wind, earth, horses and dogs. As well as lots of biblical references in the paintings, names, and characterizations. Like Alex, for example, in The Sacrifice.
The film contains many machinations which reflect the events of the Bible, ending on an Apocalyptic note, as well as a note of Resurrection and Ascension (the crancshot up the tree, and the rebirth of Alex/ Tarkovsky in his son). — Jeremy Mark Roberson, “The Sacred Cinema of Tarkovsky”
Leonardo da Vinci’s painting “Adoration of the Magi,” seen in the opening credits and referenced in the film, depicts the ceding of a pagan world to a Christian one. Tarkovsky’s theological scheme is not as clear-cut: Alexander is an atheist who turns to God, but salvation depends on persuading a witch to sleep with him, or so he’s told by the Nietzsche-quoting postman who arrives bearing telegrams and perhaps a divine message or two. — “A Second Look: Andrei Tarkovsky’s The Sacrifice” By Denis Lim, to the Los Angeles Times
