16 reviews
Released right after "Battleship Potemkin", "Mother" shows a woman forced to choose between siding with her labor-organizing son or her corrupt husband. The movie makes double sure that we get to see the living conditions in Russia in 1905, but it also uses ice as a metaphor. There are a few scenes where we see ice breaking up on the ocean; it basically shows that the old order is slowly but surely coming apart. I have to admit that this is the only Vsevolod Pudovkin movie that I've ever seen, but it's certainly a good one, if only as a historical reference. A noticeable difference between Eisenstein and Pudovkin was that Eisenstein was into typage (meaning that he liked to choose any random person who looked right for the role), while Pudovkin was very fixated on whom he wanted.
- lee_eisenberg
- Feb 4, 2006
- Permalink
Soviet filmmaker Vsevolod Pudovkin had produced a number of short films displaying his adapt handling from the teachings Moscow Film School instructor Lev Kuleshov on the messaging of montage editing. In 1926, Pudovkin embarked on reworking Maxim Gorky's 1906 novel, 'The Mother,' to illustrate the heroics of a mother whose son joins factory strikers in the face of brutal Tsarist troops. The October 1926 "Mother" proved to be one of cinema's most visible example of using editing techniques to fully explain the inner motivations of individual characters. Pudovkin's work departed from his film colleagues who implemented the montage to illustrate just the surface incidents leading up to the 1917 Russian Revolution.
When "Mother" kicked into high gear with action, Pudovkin implemented super-quick edits to portray the shown events as chaotic. He didn't waste even a nano-second of empty framing to lengthen these scenes. "Whenever we noticed some dead place at the edge of a shot," Pudovkin related, "we would eliminate it, to have nothing useless or superfluous in the composition." Fellow Soviet filmmaker Sergei Eisenstein noticed Pudovkin's focus on the individual, how the characters changed within the fluid social revolution. "He puts real living men in the center of his work," described Eisenstein. "His films act directly through their emotional power."
The Mother, Pelageya Vlasova (Vera Baranovskaya), is Pudovkin's focal point; she loses her abusive husband to a revolutionist who accidentally shoots him. Shortly afterwards, she turns in her son, who is storing arms for the rebels, thinking he'll rethink his position and eventually side with the Tsarist government. Her plan doesn't work-he receives a harsh life sentence of hard labor. He escapes from prison by crossing an ice-flow river, reminiscent of D. W. Griffith's 1920 "Way Down East's" exciting conclusion. While all this action unfolds on the screen, Pudovkin uses his lessons from Griffith to cross-cut his montage sequences with shots of a calming nature, ice flows, and the concluding calvary charge, among other scenes.
Camara positioning was equally important to Pudovkin as his editing. To show the transformation of the Mother, he initially positions the camera high looking downwards to show an oppressed, humiliated wife in the face of her aggressive husband psychologically dragging her down. Towards the finale, the director does the opposite with the camera as she gains awareness to her self and Russia's political ramifications: he positions it low looking up towards the confident and inspired Mother who faces an onrushing horde of Tsarist calvary.
During the filming, actor Nikolai Batalove, as The Mother's son, refused to walk on the ice flows in the dramatic escape sequence. Mikhail Dollar, Pudovkin's assistant director, took the clothes from the actor and proceeded to step confidently on the flows, capturing the heart-pounding athletic feat on film. Dollar was also instrumental in creating the factory crowd frantic scene where the mounted police were overrunning the strikers. At first the 700 extras looked lethargic as they ran down the street. Dollar and Pudovkin decided to turn around the two horses they were riding and gallop just out of frame against the throng of extras. The members of the crowd didn't hesitate to run for their lives, turning into a stampede of people, just as Pudovkin had scripted.
"The Mother" is the first in what later critics labeled Pudovkin's revolutionary trilogy. In the next two years the director proceeded to produce two additional classics along the lines of this classic film debut.
When "Mother" kicked into high gear with action, Pudovkin implemented super-quick edits to portray the shown events as chaotic. He didn't waste even a nano-second of empty framing to lengthen these scenes. "Whenever we noticed some dead place at the edge of a shot," Pudovkin related, "we would eliminate it, to have nothing useless or superfluous in the composition." Fellow Soviet filmmaker Sergei Eisenstein noticed Pudovkin's focus on the individual, how the characters changed within the fluid social revolution. "He puts real living men in the center of his work," described Eisenstein. "His films act directly through their emotional power."
The Mother, Pelageya Vlasova (Vera Baranovskaya), is Pudovkin's focal point; she loses her abusive husband to a revolutionist who accidentally shoots him. Shortly afterwards, she turns in her son, who is storing arms for the rebels, thinking he'll rethink his position and eventually side with the Tsarist government. Her plan doesn't work-he receives a harsh life sentence of hard labor. He escapes from prison by crossing an ice-flow river, reminiscent of D. W. Griffith's 1920 "Way Down East's" exciting conclusion. While all this action unfolds on the screen, Pudovkin uses his lessons from Griffith to cross-cut his montage sequences with shots of a calming nature, ice flows, and the concluding calvary charge, among other scenes.
Camara positioning was equally important to Pudovkin as his editing. To show the transformation of the Mother, he initially positions the camera high looking downwards to show an oppressed, humiliated wife in the face of her aggressive husband psychologically dragging her down. Towards the finale, the director does the opposite with the camera as she gains awareness to her self and Russia's political ramifications: he positions it low looking up towards the confident and inspired Mother who faces an onrushing horde of Tsarist calvary.
During the filming, actor Nikolai Batalove, as The Mother's son, refused to walk on the ice flows in the dramatic escape sequence. Mikhail Dollar, Pudovkin's assistant director, took the clothes from the actor and proceeded to step confidently on the flows, capturing the heart-pounding athletic feat on film. Dollar was also instrumental in creating the factory crowd frantic scene where the mounted police were overrunning the strikers. At first the 700 extras looked lethargic as they ran down the street. Dollar and Pudovkin decided to turn around the two horses they were riding and gallop just out of frame against the throng of extras. The members of the crowd didn't hesitate to run for their lives, turning into a stampede of people, just as Pudovkin had scripted.
"The Mother" is the first in what later critics labeled Pudovkin's revolutionary trilogy. In the next two years the director proceeded to produce two additional classics along the lines of this classic film debut.
- springfieldrental
- Mar 16, 2022
- Permalink
Максим Горький (Maxim Gorky), the novel author, has a direct link with the origin of cinema, as he was one of the first to write about it; on the 22th of June in 1896 Gorky witnessed one of the earliest film productions of the Lumière brothers, an experience that would be the basis for 'in the realm of shadows'.
Gorky was impressed by film's potential to be an universal language, the ability which Мать (Mother) illustrates by adapting his written work to the screen so even the illiterate Russian people could understand his story.
Всеволод Пудовкин (Vsevolod Pudovkin)'s style is more akin to the social realism (although this is influenced by the fact that the novel can be categorised as social realism) that Stalin would prefer, in contrast to the more abstract and jarring montage of Сергей Эйзенштейн (Sergei Eisenstein).
A particular form of montage that he used in this film is worth mentioning, namely the fragmentation of action. Pudovkin 'cuts' the action into several different shots that only show a part or fragment of the action, when assembled in a montage the viewer's mind fills in the blanks (cf. Gestalt psychology) to create the illusion of a complete action. The most known example of this technique in Film is probably the shower scene from Psycho. This in itself proves the impact the Russian film school has had on film practices in general.
To conclude, Мать (Mother) is historically important and on some parts technologically innovative. However, if it seen on itself and in comparison to other works of the time, for me it does not hold up as well as most film theorists and critics would have you believe.
Gorky was impressed by film's potential to be an universal language, the ability which Мать (Mother) illustrates by adapting his written work to the screen so even the illiterate Russian people could understand his story.
Всеволод Пудовкин (Vsevolod Pudovkin)'s style is more akin to the social realism (although this is influenced by the fact that the novel can be categorised as social realism) that Stalin would prefer, in contrast to the more abstract and jarring montage of Сергей Эйзенштейн (Sergei Eisenstein).
A particular form of montage that he used in this film is worth mentioning, namely the fragmentation of action. Pudovkin 'cuts' the action into several different shots that only show a part or fragment of the action, when assembled in a montage the viewer's mind fills in the blanks (cf. Gestalt psychology) to create the illusion of a complete action. The most known example of this technique in Film is probably the shower scene from Psycho. This in itself proves the impact the Russian film school has had on film practices in general.
To conclude, Мать (Mother) is historically important and on some parts technologically innovative. However, if it seen on itself and in comparison to other works of the time, for me it does not hold up as well as most film theorists and critics would have you believe.
This is one of the classic Soviet silent films. The story is about a family torn apart by a worker's strike. At first, the mother wants to protect her family from the troublemakers, but eventually she realizes that her son is right and the workers should strike. The plot is similar to other Soviet films of the era but does focus more on the individual than some of Eisenstein's films. The mother and son do represent the collective but they are also strong characters on their own.
The best part of the film is the editing. It is always sharp and quick. When there is action, the edits are fast and give the viewer a sense of chaos. The Soviets were masters of montage and this film is a prime example. The acting is also better than in most silent films. It is clear that the actors come from the serious stage and not Vaudeville. The cinematography is somewhat average, though, and the film feels a little flat at times. It is not perfect, but it is worth seeing for all and essential viewing for those interested in Russian film or montage.
The best part of the film is the editing. It is always sharp and quick. When there is action, the edits are fast and give the viewer a sense of chaos. The Soviets were masters of montage and this film is a prime example. The acting is also better than in most silent films. It is clear that the actors come from the serious stage and not Vaudeville. The cinematography is somewhat average, though, and the film feels a little flat at times. It is not perfect, but it is worth seeing for all and essential viewing for those interested in Russian film or montage.
Structures shaping into motion, motions reshaping into structure, against each other, so that the whole thing is like a snowstorm rolling down a hill; gathering itself to itself. Which is to say the people to the people, in an effort at once to reshape and portray the reshaped world.
Look here. The first third ends with a murder, so the entire part is about wild kinetic energy building to it; disenchanted workers plotting a strike – the metaphor for revolution, as so often in these films – factory cronies plotting to break them, pitting rugged father against idealist son. Meanwhile the factory owners, disinterested, arrogant, oversee the bloody drama from their lofty window.
The second third ends with injustice, and so the entire second part is about the mockery of justice; a colonel promising the hapless mother her son – the instigator of events - will be okay if she surrenders a hidden stash of guns, then arresting him, followed by a mock trial where each of the judges presiding is a parody of human values.
The final part is about revolution, so the entire thing is about the preparations of the final stand. Again the revolutionary metaphor, so poignant in these films; a prison filled entirely with workers, farmers, the oppressed with a dream languishing somewhere. And so, everything becomes imbued with meaning; the prison walls as walls at large, the doors slammed open with conflict, the bridge where passage is presaged by a rite of violence.
The strikers scattered by mounted police into a mob, it's the mother who picks up the banner of revolution. Down by the bridge, floating ice is shattered on the concrete pillars; ice dissolves, floating away, but the bridge stands.
And so the suffering and sacrifice of the nameless heroes is transformed into structures that will stand the test of time; bridges, factories, where the banner of revolution unfurls at the top, enduring symbols of a thriving industry, a healthy, self-sufficient nation. We may think what we want about the equation in terms of politics, but how it's equated through cinema?
It comes with the natural ease that only a filmmaking tradition so deeply centered in its worldview could afford; the individual is transmuted, engulfed into a collective structure - the Soviet god in place of a god - , in a way that reveals the individual struggle to have been redolent with purpose all along. It's a spiritual vision, make no mistake; about communion with the life-destroying, life-renewing source; about harmony of structure from the chaos of forms.
Look here. The first third ends with a murder, so the entire part is about wild kinetic energy building to it; disenchanted workers plotting a strike – the metaphor for revolution, as so often in these films – factory cronies plotting to break them, pitting rugged father against idealist son. Meanwhile the factory owners, disinterested, arrogant, oversee the bloody drama from their lofty window.
The second third ends with injustice, and so the entire second part is about the mockery of justice; a colonel promising the hapless mother her son – the instigator of events - will be okay if she surrenders a hidden stash of guns, then arresting him, followed by a mock trial where each of the judges presiding is a parody of human values.
The final part is about revolution, so the entire thing is about the preparations of the final stand. Again the revolutionary metaphor, so poignant in these films; a prison filled entirely with workers, farmers, the oppressed with a dream languishing somewhere. And so, everything becomes imbued with meaning; the prison walls as walls at large, the doors slammed open with conflict, the bridge where passage is presaged by a rite of violence.
The strikers scattered by mounted police into a mob, it's the mother who picks up the banner of revolution. Down by the bridge, floating ice is shattered on the concrete pillars; ice dissolves, floating away, but the bridge stands.
And so the suffering and sacrifice of the nameless heroes is transformed into structures that will stand the test of time; bridges, factories, where the banner of revolution unfurls at the top, enduring symbols of a thriving industry, a healthy, self-sufficient nation. We may think what we want about the equation in terms of politics, but how it's equated through cinema?
It comes with the natural ease that only a filmmaking tradition so deeply centered in its worldview could afford; the individual is transmuted, engulfed into a collective structure - the Soviet god in place of a god - , in a way that reveals the individual struggle to have been redolent with purpose all along. It's a spiritual vision, make no mistake; about communion with the life-destroying, life-renewing source; about harmony of structure from the chaos of forms.
- chaos-rampant
- Aug 29, 2011
- Permalink
What is it, where is it, how will it affect me? The following of one woman's struggle against Tsarist rule during the Russian Revolution of 1905. Мать, the pristine and devastating silent early work of the bustling mid-1920s Soviet Propaganda film industry, is a triumph on many levels. The ethos surrounding films like it of that certain age and origin: Eisenstein and his similar other Godly directors, is heavily scholarly, intellectual and time-dedicated, so to analyse Мать inside out really is well and truly beyond the amateur's concern to be a condescending writer. But, to be realistic, it's a naïve disgrace to formality if a list doesn't feature one of them on it. Vsevolod Pudovkin, a less known director of the decade's masterminds yet still heralded as a legend by his cult following for his innovative and often deeply personal practice, directs my personal, instinctive pick. Voted by an international panel of critics at the Brussel's World Fair as the 6th greatest film made up until the fateful judging day in 1958, it often loses limelight to the likes of Eisenstein's courageous, raw, untamed Battleship Potemkin and Dovzhenko's calmer, traditionally beautiful social study Earth. Мать, of course in its silent wisdom, force-feeds a supremely strong and vivid depiction of an individual struggle in a time of social instability. Whereas most works of the 1920s Soviet silent era focus on crowd mentality: whereby the struggle is depicted more of a Bayeux Tapestry of confusion and oppression, Pudovkin's take is lovely to see, and from the first few bold moments of Мать, we are introduced to our refreshingly small circle of main characters: a father, a mother, and a son. Few members of the audience will fail to identify with one person in such a configuration, as the aged camera-work of Мать still, after the prestigious test of time, provides a frame, a view to look in at each of the unique yet interconnected struggles of each family member. Мать evolves as clear as crystal before the eyes of any human of any outlook, a living and breathing piece of powerful, political art into a devastating slow riot for a new zero nation. As the realistic violence and suppression of the down-trodden progresses, a timeless and formulaic asset of the kind of film Мать must somewhat conform to be, there's something that smells a bit different in the air. We're always reminded of the maternal bond, its strength and power to drive a soul to unbearable torment, and how such a regime that these films fabricate propaganda against can directly sever it. This link that Мать explores is so volatile and hard-hitting to the blissful maximum extent that the limited medium of the silent, the black and white and that, again, time- honoured formula of the day can allow it to. Pudovkin's abilities with his 1926 sublime masterpiece generate an overwhelming empathy, giving the audience the completely, totally exclusive opportunity to visualise a fresh revolution through the eyes of those who are the most fragile and at risk emotionally from it.
- phobonnika
- Feb 10, 2014
- Permalink
In wintry 1905 Russia, "Mother" Vera Baranovskaya (as the Mother) toils over housework, while son Nikolai Batalov (as the Son) sleeps. Hard-working husband and father Aleksandr Chistyakov (as the Father) arrives home to drunkenly slap his wife around. In the opening minutes, these three characters are clearly drawn. The younger man represents collective (striking) workers while his father sides with the (oppressive) establishment. "Mother" Russia must balance love and duty. Her final decision should come as no surprise. This film highly regarded but sometimes difficult to follow. Director Vsevolod Pudovkin moves the story effectively, with quick shots. This should help you stick with it for the excellent final thirty minutes.
******* Mat (10/11/26) Vsevolod Pudovkin ~ Vera Baranovskaya, Nikolai Batalov, Aleksandr Chistyakov, Ivan Koval-Samborsky
******* Mat (10/11/26) Vsevolod Pudovkin ~ Vera Baranovskaya, Nikolai Batalov, Aleksandr Chistyakov, Ivan Koval-Samborsky
- wes-connors
- Jun 26, 2011
- Permalink
Mother (1926) :
Brief Review -
Vsevolod Pudovkin kicks off his famous Russian 'revolution trilogy' with a socialist Mother of revolution. The Russian cinema industry in the 20s was on a different level altogether. I don't think Russian cinema was ever as powerful as it was in the 1920s. Sergei Eisenstein's films were leaving critics and movie lovers stunned, and somewhere around the same time, Vsevolod Pudovkin began his 'Russian revolution trilogy'. Sergei's "Strike" (1925) and "Battleship Potemkin" (1925) changed Russian cinema forever (at least that's what I believe), but Pudovkin's trilogy was equally important. Although I rated his films lower than Eisenstein's, I believe the importance and advanced storytelling were equally worthy. Storm Over Asia was a bit of a complex topic for me (you know, being an Indian, knowing nothing of the Magnolian revolt and Russian propaganda), but still gave me an idea of Vsevolod Pudovkin's vision and hard-hitting style of storytelling. At first, I thought Mother must be some melodrama about the mother's character, and in the first 5-6 minutes, everything was going that way only. Suddenly, there was a revolution, riots, fights, and so on, and I reminded myself that this was not your typical mother-son drama. Based on Maxim Gorky's 1906 novel, The Mother, the film depicts the radicalization of a mother during the Russian Revolution of 1905, after her husband is killed and her son is imprisoned. The presentation is raw, the actors are extremely expressive, the cinematography is first class, and the entire execution is brought to screen with a larger-than-life vision of Vsevolod. Mother has drama, action, patriotism, love, hate and Russian socialised segments that are worth your time. Watch it to see that never-seen-before socialist mother awakened by revolution you always miss in movies.
RATING - 7/10*
By - #samthebestest.
Vsevolod Pudovkin kicks off his famous Russian 'revolution trilogy' with a socialist Mother of revolution. The Russian cinema industry in the 20s was on a different level altogether. I don't think Russian cinema was ever as powerful as it was in the 1920s. Sergei Eisenstein's films were leaving critics and movie lovers stunned, and somewhere around the same time, Vsevolod Pudovkin began his 'Russian revolution trilogy'. Sergei's "Strike" (1925) and "Battleship Potemkin" (1925) changed Russian cinema forever (at least that's what I believe), but Pudovkin's trilogy was equally important. Although I rated his films lower than Eisenstein's, I believe the importance and advanced storytelling were equally worthy. Storm Over Asia was a bit of a complex topic for me (you know, being an Indian, knowing nothing of the Magnolian revolt and Russian propaganda), but still gave me an idea of Vsevolod Pudovkin's vision and hard-hitting style of storytelling. At first, I thought Mother must be some melodrama about the mother's character, and in the first 5-6 minutes, everything was going that way only. Suddenly, there was a revolution, riots, fights, and so on, and I reminded myself that this was not your typical mother-son drama. Based on Maxim Gorky's 1906 novel, The Mother, the film depicts the radicalization of a mother during the Russian Revolution of 1905, after her husband is killed and her son is imprisoned. The presentation is raw, the actors are extremely expressive, the cinematography is first class, and the entire execution is brought to screen with a larger-than-life vision of Vsevolod. Mother has drama, action, patriotism, love, hate and Russian socialised segments that are worth your time. Watch it to see that never-seen-before socialist mother awakened by revolution you always miss in movies.
RATING - 7/10*
By - #samthebestest.
- SAMTHEBESTEST
- Sep 15, 2022
- Permalink
Five movies were made based on Gorky's novel: in 1920 by Aleksandr Razumnyi, in 1926 by Vsevolod Pudovkin, in 1941 by Leonid Lukov, in 1956 by Mark Donskoy (starring Aleksey Batalov as Pavel Vlassov), and in 1990 by Gleb Panfilov. Also Bertolt Brecht put the novel on stage in 1932. Hanns Eisler created, based on the novel, a cantata for chorus, solo voices and two pianos in 1935.
From all this list, undoubtedly impressive by number and persons implied, I was able to watch only the silent made in 1926 by Vsevolod Pudovkin. Politics aside, it is a masterpiece. He was one of the greatest Soviet filmmakers of the 1920's avant-garde (in the same line with Kuleshov, Eisenstein, and all the others), and this movie proves it brilliantly.
Pudovkin's movie has an architecture that is radically different from that of the novel. One is talking about very recent events, the other is framing the facts and personages into a paradigm. Both are strongly motivated politically, but the two political moments are very different: the novel is made in the aftermath of the 1905 Revolution, it's real time life, while the movie comes in the first years of Soviet power, preoccupied to build the official history of the revolution, in other words the founding mythology. While Gorky tells us a story of life flowing naturally, with personages of flesh and bones, Pudovkin demonstrates a paradigm, deals with a myth in the making. And in any myth the facts and personages are no more just facts and personages like anything else from real life: they are prototypes aiming to convey a sense. I'll give you only one example: the bridge over the river separating factory and the neighborhood. At Gorky it's just a bridge, nothing else. At Pudovkin it is a path you take to leave your submissive life and enter the revolutionary struggle. So it becomes a prototype within a paradigm, conveying a metaphysical significance.
Gorky's novel inaugurates the Socialist Realism: it means its approach is realist to the bone, so its style is traditional (following the traditional Realism of the 19th century, that were to be observed by all Socialist Realist artists). Does also the movie belong to the Socialist Realist style? I don't think so. I would say that by the contrary it belongs hundred percent to the avant-garde of the twenties, so it rejects totally the tradition. It is a Constructivist oeuvre, calling in mind maybe the Expressionist movies made in Germany in the same epoch. These artists of the twenties, totally committed politically, while thinking to build the new society based on their radically new form of art and throwing over the board all that was old, traditional, classic, Realism included. The thirties would stop them forcefully, they would have to obey to the party dogmas or go to hell (the first circle or beyond).
A few words about the cast: Vera Baranovskaya made a remarkable performance in the role of the mother; she would play one year later in the following movie made by Pudovkin, The End of St. Petersburg; Nikolai Batalov (1899-1937), who played in the role of the son, was also Soldier Gusev in Aelita (a fine role in a fine movie); it seems that he was not related to Aleksey Batalov, who played Pavel Vlassov in the movie of Mark Donskoy from 1956; and last but not least, Pudovkin himself in the role of a police officer- the guy really enjoyed the negative roles
From all this list, undoubtedly impressive by number and persons implied, I was able to watch only the silent made in 1926 by Vsevolod Pudovkin. Politics aside, it is a masterpiece. He was one of the greatest Soviet filmmakers of the 1920's avant-garde (in the same line with Kuleshov, Eisenstein, and all the others), and this movie proves it brilliantly.
Pudovkin's movie has an architecture that is radically different from that of the novel. One is talking about very recent events, the other is framing the facts and personages into a paradigm. Both are strongly motivated politically, but the two political moments are very different: the novel is made in the aftermath of the 1905 Revolution, it's real time life, while the movie comes in the first years of Soviet power, preoccupied to build the official history of the revolution, in other words the founding mythology. While Gorky tells us a story of life flowing naturally, with personages of flesh and bones, Pudovkin demonstrates a paradigm, deals with a myth in the making. And in any myth the facts and personages are no more just facts and personages like anything else from real life: they are prototypes aiming to convey a sense. I'll give you only one example: the bridge over the river separating factory and the neighborhood. At Gorky it's just a bridge, nothing else. At Pudovkin it is a path you take to leave your submissive life and enter the revolutionary struggle. So it becomes a prototype within a paradigm, conveying a metaphysical significance.
Gorky's novel inaugurates the Socialist Realism: it means its approach is realist to the bone, so its style is traditional (following the traditional Realism of the 19th century, that were to be observed by all Socialist Realist artists). Does also the movie belong to the Socialist Realist style? I don't think so. I would say that by the contrary it belongs hundred percent to the avant-garde of the twenties, so it rejects totally the tradition. It is a Constructivist oeuvre, calling in mind maybe the Expressionist movies made in Germany in the same epoch. These artists of the twenties, totally committed politically, while thinking to build the new society based on their radically new form of art and throwing over the board all that was old, traditional, classic, Realism included. The thirties would stop them forcefully, they would have to obey to the party dogmas or go to hell (the first circle or beyond).
A few words about the cast: Vera Baranovskaya made a remarkable performance in the role of the mother; she would play one year later in the following movie made by Pudovkin, The End of St. Petersburg; Nikolai Batalov (1899-1937), who played in the role of the son, was also Soldier Gusev in Aelita (a fine role in a fine movie); it seems that he was not related to Aleksey Batalov, who played Pavel Vlassov in the movie of Mark Donskoy from 1956; and last but not least, Pudovkin himself in the role of a police officer- the guy really enjoyed the negative roles
- p_radulescu
- Oct 25, 2014
- Permalink
The most prominent director from early Soviet cinema was undoubtedly Sergei Eisenstein (1898 - 1948), but there were others too, such as Dziga Vertov (1896 - 1954, "Man with a movie camera" (1929)), Aleksandr Dovzhenko (1894 - 1956, "Earth" (1930)) and Vsevolod Pudovkin (1893 - 1953, "Mother" (1926)).
Stylistically we can compare "Mother" from Pudovkin with the work of Eisenstein, especially with Battleship Potemkin" (1925) from the previous year. Look at the close ups and the montage. The final shootout in "Mother" has much in common with the famous scene on the Odessa steps in "Potemkin". Both films are also situated in the year 1905, the year of the war against Japan and the first Russian revolution (the one preceding the Communist revolution of 1917). Although being 5 years older, Pudovkin can be described as Eisensteins most talented pupil.
With respect to the storyline a comparison with Dovzhenko's "Earth" is more logical. In both films the story is a mix of communist reform and generational conflict. In both films the communist reform comes from the younger generation, with the older generation skeptical at first.
There are however also differences. In "Mother" the communist reform is situated in an industrial environment, in "Earth" in an agricultural environment. In "Earth" the father is not bad but only old fashioned. He is converted during the film. In "Mother" on the other hand the father is bad (an alcoholic) and the conversion is on the mother's side.
Stylistically we can compare "Mother" from Pudovkin with the work of Eisenstein, especially with Battleship Potemkin" (1925) from the previous year. Look at the close ups and the montage. The final shootout in "Mother" has much in common with the famous scene on the Odessa steps in "Potemkin". Both films are also situated in the year 1905, the year of the war against Japan and the first Russian revolution (the one preceding the Communist revolution of 1917). Although being 5 years older, Pudovkin can be described as Eisensteins most talented pupil.
With respect to the storyline a comparison with Dovzhenko's "Earth" is more logical. In both films the story is a mix of communist reform and generational conflict. In both films the communist reform comes from the younger generation, with the older generation skeptical at first.
There are however also differences. In "Mother" the communist reform is situated in an industrial environment, in "Earth" in an agricultural environment. In "Earth" the father is not bad but only old fashioned. He is converted during the film. In "Mother" on the other hand the father is bad (an alcoholic) and the conversion is on the mother's side.
- frankde-jong
- Jul 3, 2023
- Permalink
Vsevolod Pudovkin makes a thunderous debut with this adaptation of the Gorky novel of the same name that takes place immediately before the revolution of 1905. Steeped in the traditions of Soviet montage, Pudovkin's film explores the consequences of a mother's desire to protect her revolutionary son with a style that is both strident and unrelenting, but which avoids Hollywood-style sentmentality while never losing sight of the tale's human perspective.
- JoeytheBrit
- Jun 27, 2020
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Set in Russia during the harsh winter of 1905. A mother finds herself caught in emotional conflict between her husband and son when they find themselves on opposite sides of a worker's strike. The son is a supporter of the workers but the father has been blackmailed into supporting the bosses and blacklegs. Despite the grief which follows the mother gradually comes to support the strikers and eventually is prepared to risk everything in standing up to police and Cossak troops in a demonstration endangering both herself and her precious son.
a film of its time. adaptation of touching work. a good cast. a great montage. water as symbol, key and word for a silent movie about human storm. large isles of propaganda. and powerful, precise, touching silhouette of masterpiece. it is more than a film or page of history. more than instrument of regime. more than a kind of reflection for a profound social metamorphose. it is a unique meeting. with a subtle art to glorify a regime without sacrifice the truth. a show of nuances. and fabulous act of Vera Baranovszkaia. her role is exploration of small pieces of mother heart. the novel of Gorki is scene for one of powerful demonstration to present reality behind the words. and this is secret of this movie like many others Russians films. the heart of a sensitivity in perfect light, with delicate shadows.
Pudovkin's Mother is a strong film that refused to be bound by the limitations of its time and should remain interesting to contemporary audiences. The plot of the film is simply outstanding. While some would say it was to be expected since the film is based off of a novel by Maxim Gorky, it should be noted that good source material does not guarantee cinematic success. The film follows a mother and her revolutionist son, Pavel, as they navigate a series of difficulties resulting from her son's allegiance.
With no speech, a major challenge for silent films is the creation of multidimensional characters. Pudovkin overcomes this challenge by being able to capture the emotions of the characters. I thought the mother, was exceptionally interesting. Her struggle did not only represent that of a loving mother, but also that of a movement. Pudovkin make great use of the camera, whether it was a side profile emphasizing the pensiveness of the character or a well-timed frontal close-up, he facilitates our ride on this emotional roller-coaster.
For the most part, I really enjoyed the pacing of the film. While the pacing did vary in tempo, it was always well within its own "groove." Even in the extremely exciting conclusion, one did not get to feel the extremely fast-paced tempo of a Battleship Potemkin, which I believe speaks to the differences between the directors. On that note, it was interesting to see how Pudovkin's use of montage differed. His cuts were far more gradual and subtle when compared to Eisenstein's in Battleship which contributed to the stability of the film.
All in all, Mother was a good watch and one of the stronger films that we have seen.
With no speech, a major challenge for silent films is the creation of multidimensional characters. Pudovkin overcomes this challenge by being able to capture the emotions of the characters. I thought the mother, was exceptionally interesting. Her struggle did not only represent that of a loving mother, but also that of a movement. Pudovkin make great use of the camera, whether it was a side profile emphasizing the pensiveness of the character or a well-timed frontal close-up, he facilitates our ride on this emotional roller-coaster.
For the most part, I really enjoyed the pacing of the film. While the pacing did vary in tempo, it was always well within its own "groove." Even in the extremely exciting conclusion, one did not get to feel the extremely fast-paced tempo of a Battleship Potemkin, which I believe speaks to the differences between the directors. On that note, it was interesting to see how Pudovkin's use of montage differed. His cuts were far more gradual and subtle when compared to Eisenstein's in Battleship which contributed to the stability of the film.
All in all, Mother was a good watch and one of the stronger films that we have seen.
- wegi-605-902
- Mar 4, 2013
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