Arts and Faith #2: Andrei Rublev

Scott's introductory comments on the Arts and Faith Top 100 Films List
Andrei Rublev (1966)
Director: Andrey Tarkovsky
Arts and Faith top 100: #2

There are any number of ways that I could review Andrei Rublev. Here is a critically acclaimed movie that is widely considered one of the greatest films ever made. As a cinephile who is seeking out movies that intentionally fuse art and faith, Andrei Rublev should appeal to me. I am the target audience. And yet, my first viewing was more an act of suffering than enthusiasm.

The film consists of seven episodes (plus a prologue and epilogue) that chart the lifespan of the Russian icon painter Andrei Rublev (1360? - 1430?). This is an appropriate time to recommend that any potential viewers of this film do some homework before pushing the 'play' button on their dvd player. I urge you to become familiar with Rublev's story, and also the directing style of Tarkovsky, before immersing yourself into this 205 minute epic journey. In my first effort at watching Andrei Rublev, I was lost in trying to figure out a) who are the primary characters of this story, and b) how the episodes fit together in that story. I discovered that the episodes tell separate stories, and that there is not one unifying plot that ties them all together, save perhaps for the person of Rublev himself. Having said that, even Rublev is not in the prologue, and my reading about the film on the internet has still not resolved my confusion about how the prologue relates to the rest of the film.

Future viewers should also beware that Andrei Rublev is one of the slowest paced films that I have ever seen. For those who appreciate pacing that allows for depth of character development and storytelling, this may be a breath of fresh air.  For those who need a quicker pace and dramatic action scenes, a three hour epic drama may be difficult to endure.  Having come into this movie without any warning or prior knowledge of what was in store, I persevered through it with no small amount of psychosomatic suffering. The seven episodes are clearly demarcated by the director, and I paused the dvd at each interval to allow myself to digest what had come to pass.  I also took those moments to look up film reviews to ascertain what happened.   Appropriately enough, Tarkovsky approaches filmmaking like an iconographer approaches an icon -- everything in the art form is not spelled out for the viewer.  Instead, one must dig deeply to find the treasures prepared for the ones who are willing to do some work.

After watching Ostrov (The Island) and Andrei Rublev in the past two weeks, I find it curious that these two Russian films share the theme of suffering.  Andrei Rublev was filmed during the Cold War, while Ostrov told a story about a monk who lived in Russia during that period. Both of the main characters (Andrei Rublev/Father Anatoly) experience the suffering of great evils that are done to them, and they both must atone for sins of great evil that they perpetuate onto the world. When I consider these stories in the light of Dostoevsky's The Brother Karamozov, I am reminded that the Russian Orthodox tradition places a great premium on God's redemption of suffering as part of His plan for salvation.

My timing in watching these two films is also curious when juxtaposed with the death of Osama bin Laden this week. Immediately after the announcement of the U.S. military action, I witnessed a division of sentiments on the social networks.  Some expressed joy and celebration at the 'justice' that was served by his killing, while others cautioned against the perpetuation of violence in the struggle against evil. Ostrov and Andrei Rublev remind us that even actions that can be justified as violence in the name of self-defense are acts that require penance rather than jubilation. Violence taken against someone in self-defense is still injurious to the human soul, and is mourned by God. The loss of life, and the perpetuation of evil, can never be regarded lightly, even if those acts prevent further demonstrations of depravity.

Andrei Rublev is a thought-provoking film that is widely acclaimed as a cinematic masterpiece.  I suspect that it requires multiple viewings to be more fully appreciated, since I struggled to understand even the basic plot on my first viewing.  Furthermore, it was an act of perseverance for me to endure to the end.  In defense of Andrei Rublev, however, I did not enjoy Citizen Kane on my first viewing either -- but with some help from Roger Ebert's commentary, it became a new experience for me on subsequent viewings. I will give Andrei Rublev the benefit of the doubt and offer the possibility that its images may continue to stir my thinking in the days to come.  Even though I stop short of claiming to have "enjoyed" it on my first try, this review is evidence that it has already provoked within me reflection on a number of difficult theological topics.