Cult Cinema: Days of Eclipse (1988) - Reviewed

Images Courtesy of Lenfilm
The literature of Russian brother science-fiction novelists Arkady and Boris Strugatsky has been adopted to the Soviet and post-Soviet Russian cinema roughly around ten times between late 1979 to 2013, making them among the forefathers of Russian fantasy fiction writing.  Between Andrei Tarkovsky’s Stalker, Grigori Kromanov’s Dead Mountaineer’s Hotel, and not one but two adaptations of Hard to Be a God, the Strugatskys have continued to remain at the forefront of contemporary world science fiction authors getting their stories the silver screen treatment.  While all are generally celebrated, one that is glossed over for its go-for-broke swan dive into experimental pure cinema is legendary (and still working) Russian director Alexander Sokurov’s Days of Eclipse, a film that directly involved the Strugatskys while fostering the director’s own elliptical aesthete and rhythm into the proceedings.

 
Based loosely on a screenplay adaptation by the Strugatskys themselves of their 1974 novel Definitely Maybe or A Billion Years Before the End of the World before being adjusted with further contributions by Yuri Arabov and Pyotr Kadochnikov, Lenfilm’s production of Days of Eclipse seems to glide atop the Turkmenistan desert landscapes predating drone photography in a series of extraordinary transitions before landing on the film’s eponymous hero child doctor Dmitry Malyanov (Alexey Ananishnov).  Filmed in near monochromatic black-and-white with just faint hints of color in the schema lensed in panoramic 2.35:1 widescreen by Sergei Yurizditsky with an experimental sound design co-rendered by Yuri Khanin and Vladimir Persov, the film follows Malyanov’s surreal misadventures working as a newly stationed medical doctor posited in a remote impoverished section of Turkmenistan. 

 
The setup seems simple enough at first, shifting the novel’s focus from astrophysics to religion, with Malyanov conducting experimental research on the effects of theological practices on human health with the young newcomer doctor concluding religion is beneficial to one’s physiological well-being.  However, as he takes to putting his thesis down on paper, our protagonist encounters one increasingly surreal, borderline incoherent episode after another in such a manner as to derail him from his writings, leading Malyanov to believe some sort of implacable supernatural force is at play.  As the film’s then-nebulous narrative starts to intensify for the already perplexed protagonist, director Sokurov and his editor Leda Semyonova start playing freely with running long-takes and hyperkinetic editing to further alter our perception of the events unfolding.
 
Although considered to be only loosely connected to the source material and being perhaps the densest, most Neorealist Sokurov work yet comprised of a cast of professional as well as non-actors with scenes that can easily lose even the most patient of viewership, Days of Eclipse is nevertheless a striking slice of Turkmenistan on film through the prism of the Strugatsky’s surreal science fiction narrative.  More than anything it represented for its director Sokurov his first real successful theatrical release as his prior film projects Mournful Unconcern and The Lonely Voice of Man were banned by Soviet authorities up until 1988.  


After taking home four awards in 1988, in 2000 the film was then included on the list of 100 best films in the history of Russian Cinema.  While not the first pick for where to start with the unique and formidable film master (Russian Ark being the best for the uninitiated), Days of Eclipse is truly an interesting Strugatsky film adaptation that unfortunately doesn’t quite have the ongoing discourse surrounding it which Stalker and Hard to Be a God still do to this day.  A shame as it is no less mysterious or thought provoking as those equally renowned and celebrated Eastern European science fiction epics made by one of Russia's greatest directors still working today.

--Andrew Kotwicki