Curzon Artificial Eye releases the penultimate film from Andrei Tarkovsky’s filmography in Nostalgia. Post-Stalker, Tarkovsky planned to make “The First Day” – a film that would interrogate atheism in the Soviet Union. Long story short. He had a major confrontation with Goskino (USSR committee for cinematography) whereby the half-finished film was scrapped, never to see the light of day. Frustrated, Tarkovsky inflicted a self-imposed exile from his native Russia upon himself. 1983’s Nostalgia was the immediate creative outcome, and swirling creativity will prove difficult for many.
In this Italian shot film, Oleg Yankovskiy stars as Andrei Gorchakov, a man travelling the Italian countryside researching the life of an 18th-century poet. Regularly helming sparsely plotted productions, Tarkovsky takes one step further away from narratives to direct an entirely plotless affair. Focused around three or four locales, Gorchakov and his translator Eugenia (Domziana Giordano), wander the lands before happening upon an eccentric man named Domenico (Erland Josephson) – famous in his village for trying to cross through a mineral pool with a lit candle. A feat that he claims will save the world.
The quirks of this newfound friendship lead Nostalgia away from traditional cinema and into the embrace of the film poem and experimental cinema. For many, Tarkovsky is one of the form’s greatest poets, making this transition a natural one. His poetry distilled the truths of the human experience and morphed them into one of the most respected photographic identities that any filmmaker has ever enjoyed; Tarkovsky commands such a prestigious position for all the right reasons. And that is just as true here as it was in any of his more acclaimed works.
Stalker, Mirror and Solaris are bloated with substance beneath the surface, and that can be a little on the intimidating side given their density. If you appreciate his style, Tarkovsky is a filmmaker who rewards rewatches, giving you more to unpack and interpret with each visit. While the same is also true for these earlier films, they allowed for a broader cinematic dialogue making them more inclusive experiences. Nostalgia is different. Instead of operating with genres like Sci-fi, Tarkovsky drops any pretence of telling a coherent story to work instead with buried subtext, connotation and implication. Nostalgia is simply one of the most intellectually overwrought films I’ve ever seen, and it is all intentional from Tarkovsky, of course.
Accessibility is an ambiguous touchstone for any creative project – how Tarkovsky conducted himself through these later films meant that his films were only appreciable to those willing to dig. Sad then that the qualities that saw the Russian grandmaster rise to the top of the World faded away in the mineral pool of cinema, leaving only a visual thesis for the already initiated.
The futility of trying to catch lightning in a bottle is a fitting analogy for the difficulties of the creative process when played off the political conflict he endured. Dotted throughout are dream sequences in which Gorchakov wanders the streets of an implied home, with its empty streets and often wordless interactions with his wife and child. The lion’s share of the film takes place in the building that Domenico called home. And as impressive as it is to see this isolated building become more and more decrepit, the particulars become muddy and hard to discern. These instances are all conceptual pokes at being creative, artistic and working in Russia.
In the final half-hour, Tarkovsky returns from alienation and dream logic into the city, where Domenico crafts a stylized display perched atop a giant horse statue to decry the follies of modern society. Apparently. Alienation is communicated explicitly in Nostalgia, both thematically and in response to the film’s otherness and evasion of easy answers. The final 30 minutes have the most to connect to, with Domenico atop a horse and Gorchakov transporting a lit candle across a mineral pool in place of his new friend. That those two scenes are the film at its most accessible paint a vivid, interesting picture.
Accessibility is an ambiguous touchstone for any creative project – how Tarkovsky conducted himself through these later films meant that his films were only appreciable to those willing to dig. Sad then that the qualities that saw the Russian grandmaster rise to the top of the World faded away in the mineral pool of cinema, leaving only a visual thesis for the already initiated. As a conceptual, visual piece, Nostalgia has more in common with that which bore Steve McQueen, video art – a form screened in art galleries. For many, the glacial pacing and lack of coherent narrative will bring boredom to everyone but the most hardcore and quickly. Tarkovsky’s idiosyncrasies are present and correct, but the question of what it all means is not enough to recommend Nostalgia to anyone but those who are already fans.
Personally, Surrealism is one of the most divisive aspects of cinema and this metaphysical dreamscape drenched in symbolism couldn’t be more off the deep end. Curzon Artificial Eye has restored the film beautifully, giving the aesthetics all the respect they deserve. In the extras is a commentary with Psychoanalyst Mary Wild, and I feel that this extra alone sums up this release perfectly. If you want a good entry point to Tarkovsky, try Ivan’s Childhood.
NOSTALGIA IS OUT ON CURZON ARTIFICIAL EYE BLU-RAY
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