 |
| Courtesy of Mosfilm |
In 1902, Russian explorer Vladimir
Arsenyev (Yury Solomin) embarked on a series of military expeditions of the
forests in the Far East area of Ussuri replete with an armed crew, bringing
them through the unforgiving terrain of Siberia. Their exploration of uncharted territory
brings Captain Arsenyev and crew into contact with an eccentric elderly Nanai
trapper and hunter named Dersu Uzala (Maxim Munzuk) who at first seems
childishly simplistic but quickly proves himself to be a gifted and formidable
leader as Arsenyev and his team venture further into the undiscovered country. Numerous times between 1902 and 1907, Arsenyev
and Dersu would cross paths and form a deeply felt friendship as Dersu helps
out the unprepared expedition through trials and tribulation, saving the lives
of the crew more times than they can count.
Predating the likes of Mick Dodge as a
bona fide mountain man one with nature with acute senses of hunting and
survival, the legend of Dersu Uzala as recounted by Vladimir Arsenyev is
a beautiful, heartfelt and ultimately tragic tale of the famed and celebrated
trapper/hunter. Laying the groundwork
for an adventure tale like no other, the story first came to the silver screen in
1961 from director Ahasi Babayan with Adolf Shestakov as Arsenyev and Kasym
Zhakibayev as the legendary Dersu. Though
well regarded, fourteen years later it would be overshadowed by another
cinematic adaptation that can be considered the definitive big screen treatment
of Dersu Uzala with Akira Kurosawa’s first and only 70mm Russian film
production in 1975.
After suffering three devastating blows
beginning with his firing from Tora! Tora! Tora! followed by the failure
of Dodeskaden which prompted his failed suicide attempt, Kurosawa was
more or less blacklisted from the very Japanese film industry he helped land on
the world stage. During this downtime
unable to find work, one of his early projects from the 1950s cropped up again
when Russian film company Mosfilm approached Kurosawa with the idea of making a
film for them. An insatiable
opportunity for the director who was then granted free creative reign to choose
whatever project he wanted for them, to their great surprise Kurosawa chose Dersu
Uzala which they initially thought had been unheard of outside of Russia.
The director’s most naturalistic
undoctored unartificial work to date, bringing the 65mm cameras into the
Siberian wilderness with frequent long takes where the camera simply runs, the
film is told in flashback as Arsenyev reflects on his experiences with Dersu from
his memoir. From here it becomes a
picturesque, scenic widescreen journey through the brutal terrain of Siberia as
Arsenyev and Dersu begin to form a deep friendship despite being from
completely different walks of life.
While
not driven by a formal plot, the film instead is a character study of a man at
peace with the natural world clashing with the forward progress of
civilization. Throughout their
adventures, Dersu speaks curious yet wise words about the fragile balance
between the natural and modern world and their friendship is further tested by
Dersu’s gradually fading eyesight and Arsenyev is tasked with trying to put a
roof over Dersu’s head which invariably causes problems of its own.
Lyrical, poetic, staggering and
achingly beautiful, Dersu Uzala further cements Akira Kurosawa’s
unparalleled ability to evoke tears from the viewer without being sentimental
or saccharine. The emotions here, though
working within the constraints of melodrama, are so raw they cut through the heart
like a razor blade. Watching Dersu
Uzala is like reflecting on a friendship that feels so near and dear to you
slowly withering away with the sands of time.
Though no one watching the film has ever actually met any of the
characters in it, by the time it is over Arsenyev and Dersu are like family
members we come to love and feel for when hardships hit both of them.
The first thing that catches the viewer’s
eyes are Kurosawa’s intensely ornate visual compositions breathtakingly lensed
in Sovscope 70mm by three cinematographers: Asakazu Nakai, Yuri Gantman and
Fyodor Dobronravov. As close to evoking
the impossible big screen Super Panavision grandeur of David Lean as
Russian/Japanese cinema has ever come, the vistas contained therein Dersu
Uzala are nothing short of astonishingly beautiful. Kurosawa’s perfectionist command over the
visual image is so strong he gives the vastness of the Siberian terrain an
almost theatrical quality, particularly during a still spellbinding sequence of
Dersu and Arsenyev scrambling to put up shelter during a deadly snowstorm.
Then there’s the film’s evocative,
tearjerking score by Isaak Shvarts. A
renowned Russian composer who found himself in uncharted territory working with
Kurosawa, the score despite being very Russian sounds curiously like Toru
Takemitsu’s doom-soaked foreboding score to Ran. Take for instance the aforementioned scene of
Dersu and Arsenyev trying to survive the storm, as the soundtrack kicks into
high gear with subtle dread building up to a sonic scream. Later still a rendition of The Eagle Song
sung by a Russian chorus will have you on your knees sobbing tears until your tear
ducts have nothing left. It’s that
devastatingly powerful and full of emotion.
Winner of the 1976 Academy Award for
Best Foreign Language film, one of only three times the Soviet Union has earned
their Oscar submissions, Dersu Uzala is a heartfelt depiction of
Arsenyev’s memoir of his dear friend who helped him conquer death more than once,
Dersu is second to Kanji Watanabe from Ikiru in terms of being one of
Kurosawa’s most beloved characters. So
iconic was this character, George Lucas came up with the character of Yoda for The
Empire Strikes Back just a few years later, who clearly is inspired by the
legendary Dersu.
While sadly the film has flown under
the radar of most world cinephiles and Akira Kurosawa fans, recently the
Criterion Channel added the film to their services and now audiences have a
chance to see this monumental cinematic undertaking which has lost none of its
uncanny power to burst your heart. A
devastatingly beautiful interpretation of Arsenyev’s memoir, forecasting some
of the concerns of aging touched upon in I Live in Fear and his final
film Madadayo, Dersu Uzala is a top to bottom Kurosawa film in a
distinctly Russian skin which, like Ikiru before it, has the power to
deeply move you and ways words cannot properly express.
--Andrew Kotwicki
