ackstasis Few people have been daring enough to even read Leo Tolstoy's epic story, "War and Peace (1865-1869)," let alone adapt it to the screen. At over 1000 pages in length, the novel is notorious for its intimidating thickness, but those who have read it will usually agree that it is one of the finest achievements in the history of literature. I've never been courageous enough to attempt the story myself, but Sergei Bondarchuk's 1960s adaptation, 'Voyna i mir (1967)' seemed an equally ambitious undertaking. At over seven hours in length – usually divided into four parts – the Soviet film defines "epic" in every sense of the word, and, with a budget of $100 million, it is also (adjusted for inflation) the most expensive movie ever made. Watching such a lengthy film in one sitting seemed a daunting task, so I instead decided to segregate my viewing into the picture's original four parts, over as many nights.I'm the first person to admit my bias towards epic cinema. Regardless of all other factors, if there's sufficient spectacle then I'm a sucker for it. Bondarchuk's 'War and Peace' possesses spectacle in great abundance, and, in every frame, the picture's considerable budget has been put to excellent use. Even the most brief and discreet sequences are gloriously embellished with lavish set decoration and costuming, to such an extent that the flood of colour and creativity becomes almost overwhelming. Unlike comparable masters of epic cinema, such as the wonderful David Lean, Bondarchuk apparently has little use for precise cinematographic composition, and frequently the photography is entirely hand-held, no mean feat considering the bulkiness of those 70mm cameras. In some ways, the unexpected use of this filming style is distracting and occasionally sloppy, but it also adds a unique liveliness to the proceedings – why not brighten things up a bit with a dynamic camera?The opening hour of Part One, 'Andrei Bolkonsky (1965),' is a watchable but occasionally tiresome introduction of the major characters, the most intriguing of which is Pierre Besukhov (Bondarchuk himself), whose habit for alcohol and recklessness must be stifled following the inheritance of his father's fortune. It is only during the first bloody battle that the director finally spreads his creative wings, and Bondarchuk's magnificent cinematic scope is almost awe-inspiring to behold, as thousands of soldiers fall amid the blood and smoke of open warfare. During these sequences, the film generally avoids spending too much time on any one character, and the director is evidently most concerned with offering an "God's eye" view of events, rather than from the perspective of war's insignificant pawns. Using this method, Bondarchuk is able to retain the "sprawling" tone of his source material, even if such spectacle comes at the expense of any intimacy that we might have had with the story's characters.Part Two, 'Natasha Rostova (1966)' contains not a single gruesome war-time death, and yet I think I enjoyed it more than the previous instalment. The story almost entirely follows the exploits of the title character Natasha (Lyudmila Savelyeva), the adolescent daughter of a countess, whom we first glimpsed in Part One, as a bright-eyed and giggling youngster yearning for her first romance. By the story's conclusion, she has forever bid farewell to her childhood, and has entered the sobering years of adulthood, heartbroken and disillusioned. The film's first major set-piece – perhaps rivalling Bondarchuk's own battle recreations in scope and attention-to-detail – is a breathtaking New Year's Eve ball, adorned by hundreds of elaborately-costumed dancers who sweep across the floor with impeccable grace. Displaying a versatility that calls to mind a similar sequence in Orson Welles' 'The Magnificent Ambersons (1942),' Bondarchuk's camera glides majestically amid the flurry of waltzing couples, while retaining its intimacy through focusing the spectacle largely from Natasha's perspective.By Part Three, Bondarchuk seems to have decided that mere personal affairs are no longer important – this episode is about war! Despite a brief running time of 84 minutes, '1812 (1967)' nonetheless contains among the most awe-inspiring depictions of conflict ever committed to film, surpassing even the grandeur of the Bondarchuk's work in Part One and later in 'Waterloo (1970).' Over the course of his film's production, the director sustained no less than two heart attacks – as one might expect, one of these came about during his recreation of the Battle of Borodino. I really can't blame him. This battle, which lasts the bulk of the film's running time, is a genuine battering of the senses, film-making of such overwhelming excessiveness that it just about places the viewer amidst the blasts of smoke and the shudder of cannon-fire. After somehow securing the support of the Soviet Government, Bondarchuk employed full use of their resources, and conscripted 120,000 men to help recreate the Russian Army's mighty encounter with Napoleon Bonaparte's forces.I must admit I was surprised when, following Russia's so-called "moral victory" at the bloody Battle of Borodino, 'Pierre Bezukhov (1967)' opened proceedings with Field Marshal Kutuzov's reluctant retreat and Napolean's march onwards into Moscow. Nevertheless, Part Four is a visual masterpiece, and Bondarchuk once again presents us with dramatic episodes that are staggering in their intensity and attention-to-detail. During the burning of Moscow, as Pierre stumbles through a fiery inferno, the characters are almost completely obscured by the blustery splinters of ash that gust across the screen. The sheer intensity of the raging red flames often gives one the impression that Pierre has, with the arrival of the French, unexpectedly descended into the sweltering pits of Hell. The picture's eventual conclusion, though certainly sad, strikes just the right note of bittersweet, and we genuinely do feel as though we've just completed something very special. The overriding emotion is one of hope: wars will come and go, but life goes on, and life is the most important thing of all.

Polanski_Fan Having read the novel and seen the full version just now, in one sitting, in a theater (Film Forum in NYC), it is an incomparable experience and one of the two or three best novel-adaptations ever made. The cinematography and set-pieces are phenomenal (the budget was $700 million) and the story of course is one of history's greats.Some stuff from the novel gets cut, and the "war" scenes are far more memorable than the "peace" parts, but the entire "Part Two," which focuses entirely on Natalie, would be a great romantic film entirely to itself.In short, it is like "The Leopard," "Gone with the Wind," Abel Ganz' "Napoleon," and "Spartacus" rolled into one masterpiece. However, I don't know that one could sit through this on DVD. But if you don't live in NY this week, I don't know when else you will have the chance to see it on the big screen, where it really is jaw-dropping.

florinc After one finishes viewing it, and only afterward, one realizes that this movie cannot be made. This movie was there all the time, always. It only requested a camera, like some smoke lamp that visualizes an invisible laser beam. It is like carving away chunks of darkness to reveal the light inside. And after all the efforts to come to terms with the reality one realizes that this movie cannot be seen: too deep, too wide, too high, too vast, too beautiful, too painful. In the end, it strikes you with the most hard and harsh of them all questions that cannot be asked, but only answered: the deepest sense of joy of life comes from the simplest acknowledgment of the joy of being in life. This, and only this can explain why sheer opulence replaces the ascetic simple beauty in Andrei Rublev.

D_vd_B This film, made in the 60, is one of the greatest triumphs of Russian cinema. The budget was enormous, but when you watch this film, you have the feeling that it was all spend in a good way.The first part opens with a lineup of nature scenes followed by an introduction of the main characters. There are the three main characters: Andrei, Pierre and Natasha, and many many smaller roles, but you'll get plenty of time of to get to know them.The first thing that makes this movie stand out, is the size of the production. The sets are huge, the clothing looks very real and you'll see no empty air between the extras in the crowd scenes.But the directing is what makes this movie so special. First of all, you hear the thoughts of the characters as a voice over. This might take some seconds to get used too, but works great. You can see that the actors understand their characters, or at least do they know how much these persons know about themselves.The feeling is incredible. When you are outside, you can almost smell the air and feel the cold (or the warmth of the sun). The indoor scenes vary from claustophobic to cozy. The estates are full of life when there are guests, but after they leave and the sun goes down, the halls become cold and dark.The battles have great atmosphere. They don't really focus on the battle itself, but more on the madness of them. So there are some structural battle shots missing (the approaching armies, building tense music and the way the soldiers come closer are only shown in the first battle) and mostly you'll be placed right in the action. And the battles aren't shown as something glorious. The main focus is on the madness of the fighting itself. When the first cannonballs fly trough the air, some soldiers become insane bloodthirsty killers that don't care for their allies, while other become mad with fear. All this bloodshed is shown with a shaky camera covered with dirt and dust, a technique later used by many modern directors like Spielberg for Saving Private Ryan. And all this spectacle is done with thousands of extras, hundreds of horses and canons and under giant pillars of gun smoke.But when there is not battle going on, the surrealism never leaves the characters. They dream and imagine things in a colorful way. There is a great scene where two people are sitting in a room with dripping water. They don't know what to say to each other and all you really hear is the water. This makes it a very nervous scene, but it's exactly how these people feel at that time.The 4 parts are pretty balanced. The first part is the most open part, with a little of all (spectacle, drama, surrealism). Part 2 has the most personal drama, and 3 a lot of spectacle. Part 4 is a grande finale that will knock you out of chair, help you back in and knock you out again.The acting is not the best I have ever seen, but it's better than most Russian films. The main characters act very well, but there are some smaller parts that seem a little over acted. The music is not beautiful, but that was never it's intention I think. There is no real main melody and no particular theme that comes back, but the choirs and orchestra are there when they can be used. This film doesn't need a soundtrack that carries it, and that was understood by the composer. The music is not dominating and you cannot whistle with it, but when it's there you might just experience one of the most complete movie moments of your life.8 hours long, Russian with subtitles (no problem for me, but I understand people that have English as their first language are not used to them), drama and philosophy. Don't watch this film for it's battle scenes alone, but enjoy every scene. It might take a while, but when the last credits are rolling off the screen, you'll have no idea that 8 hours can be so easy to kill.A great movie, near perfect. If you like directors like Eisenstein of David Lean, this might just be your new favorite film. Give it even a second viewing a couple of months after the first one.10/10