Criterion Corner: Two by Kira Muratova (1967 - 1971) - Reviewed

Images courtesy of Janus Films

Ukrainian born writer-director-actress Kira Muratova of Romanian/Jewish descent is perhaps second to Larisa Shepitko in terms of the all-time great female Soviet-Ukraine directors.  Though her works often were met with censorship within the Soviet Union, she nevertheless charged ahead with numerous award-winning features ranging all the way from 1961 with her first two features By the Steep Ravine and Our Honest Bread.  Her first solo masterpiece Brief Encounters as well as her second solo feature The Long Farewell were both banned by Soviet censors outright and never saw a proper theatrical release until almost twenty years later during the Glasnost movement relative to openness and transparency. 
 
A dire shame such elegantly constructed character studies of complex and strong female characters, both generously produced by Odessa Film Studio, were withheld from the public as they’re representative of some of the very best Eastern European portraits of women in modern Ukraine in cinema history.  Thankfully however with the efforts of StudioCanal and The Criterion Collection who have fashioned a two-film blu-ray set of her first two films fully restored in 4K from the original camera negatives, bringing these underseen black-and-white drama classics to Western viewers for the very first time.

 
With her first feature Brief Encounters Muratova directs and acts in front of the camera as the central protagonist, determined city planner Valentina Ivanova in a triangular romance involving her geologist husband Maksim (singer Vladimir Vysotskiy) and her countryside housekeeper Nadya (Nina Ruslanova).  Interspersing between the perspectives of both women in nonlinear fashion replete with flashbacks, Muratova and her co-writer Leonid Zhukhovitsky weaves together a French New Wave inspired tapestry of Ukrainian women from vastly different walks of life with their own disparate worldviews, hopes, dreams and wishes clashing together in unforeseen ways.
 
Despite being flat out banned by Soviet authorities, Muratova pushed forward onto her next project with 1971’s The Long Farewell.  Reuniting her with Full Moon Day cinematographer Gennady Karyuk and composer Oleg Karavaychuk, her new film curiously ruffled the feathers of Soviet censors even more so than before and brought her working career at the time to a screeching halt.  With its unblinking portrait of an emotionally demanding single mother named Yevgeniya Vasilyevna (stage actress Zinaida Sharko in one of her first screen appearances) and her domineering, impulsive control over her increasingly resentful teenage son Sasha Ustinov (Oleg Vladimirsky).  


However, despite stern fierceness her carefully constructed world is shattered when Sasha declares he wishes to go live with his estranged father now ex-husband of Yevgeniya.  Shifting in and out of memory, dream, past and present with varying perspectives including some rather emotional slideshows, the film provided an unlikable portrait of Soviet Ukrainian motherhood through the prism of a character study of a deeply troubled and needing woman. 
 
Between both films, Muratova asserts complicated female perspectives, agency and sly sociopolitical critique of the very society which fostered her characters at crossroads in the first place.  Distinctly Ukrainian full of cultural iconography including ceremonies, music and customs amid a then-modern late 1960s-early 1970s country, Muratova’s first two films again join the aforementioned Larisa Shepitko’s The Wings for exemplifying tough, complex but ultimately feminine characters navigating difficulties both external and internally emotional.  That said, neither picture could be more different in what they say about Ukrainian women at the time.  Whereas the first film functions somewhat like a Marlen Khutsiev picture, the second with its raw performances and confrontational attitude towards the inability to let go of maternal instincts feels closer to Shepitko for presenting worldly women who no longer seem to fit in.

 
While Muratova’s first two features were made between 1967 and 1971, neither film saw the light of day until circa 1987 via Mikhail Gorbachev’s perestroika and both pictures opened to widespread acclaim and award.  With the screen debut of actress Nina Ruslanova who herself went on to become a major performer across many Soviet classics including Kin-Dza-Dza! and Heart of a Dog, Ruslanova won the 1987 Nika Award for Best Actress.  Also nominated for the Nika Award that same year were director Muratova, cinematographer Gennady Karyuk and actress Zinaida Sharko, all finally revealed for their power and splendor over a decade later.  

Criterion’s release of the films are splendid and come housed with interviews with Muratova and film scholars Elena Gorfinkel and Isabel Jacobs as well as essay writing by Jessica Kiang.  Looking at them now, they remain fresh and illuminating on the female Soviet Ukrainian perspective at a transitional time in history and remain vital to the world cinema discourse and especially function as a testament to the artistic might of Kira Muratova.

--Andrew Kotwicki