i AM endlessly pelted with questions concerning the reasons why I am not given work as a film director. Finally, I decided to use this invitation from the editors of Kino* to give a complete explanation of what is happening with me in production a n d how I regard all of this.
This pause has been sixteen m o n t h s long, a n d it began after I completed The Death Ray—a film that is, for me, an attempt to affirm a genuine technique a n d mastery in Soviet cinema.
In general, I consider it crucial to be aware in our craft of what a person wishes a n d w h a t he c a n do.
I take into a c c o u n t the impossibility of successes in p r o d u c t i o n without the use of a single, organized, a n d cohesive group.
T h a t is why I prefer in t h e future to develop my work along t h e lines of accomplishing the maximal mastery of film within the context of developing the collective which I have headed.
The themes of the scenarios, which have served as the material for the production experiences developed in Mr. West a n d The Death
Ray, are unquestionably i n a d e q u a t e , b u t the ideological slander t h a t
was raised after the release of the last film is utterly undeserved. It must not be forgotten t h a t up to now all the accomplishments of our group should be e v a l u a t e d only as a bill of fare of Soviet film technique—the skills of o u r craft—and not as finished films. At o n e
* A weekly newspaper of the Soviet film industry.
First of all, it is vital to ascertain the raising of the quality of m o n t a g e . R a n k i n g with b a d montage, is the end of the first p a r t — t h e sailor, washing the plate, turns it not in accordance with the m o v e m e n t of his h e a d — a n d such places; but there is such a convincing m o n t a g e sequence as the b o m b i n g of the Odessa Theater with the startled lions. Theatricality—in the hanging cats a n d the barrels of Strike. N o , when it comes to the movement of crowds and actors, it ought to be better a n d more integral. In fact, in his future work Eisenstein certainly ought to apply himself to the actor's element a n d to mass scenes, as they are not always structured, a n d if they are structured, then not always grammatically. This, then, is the rudimen- tary aspect, in terms of the technical element, that ought to be analyzed in the evaluation of the work of Eisenstein.
T h e basis of his success in art, the basis that elicits a particular respect, is his will in p r o d u c t i o n — a n emphasis on a n d the ability to select significant, self-serving themes.
Others could not do better.
In a short period of time Eisenstein has successfully grown into a master, has grown well, since apart from talent, he is possessed of will,
tenacity, and a sharp eye.
Why I Am Not Working
I n despair a n d poverty, m y f i l mgro up wa s f o r m e d a n d d e v e l o p e d over a period of five hungry years—it grew a n d m a t u r e d a n d has a
right to work.
The very formation of this group was not impelled by w h i m s y b u t h a s been dictated by the impossibility of resolving n e w p r o b l e m s w i t h personnel unprepared for their resolution a n d the c o r r e s p o n d i n g work. That is the reason that I will be unable to do a single n e w p i e c e of work without my collective of actor-mannequins a n d a s s i s t a n t s , a n d without the prerogative t o select those from a m o n g t h e m w h o a r e best suited to my needs as a director.
Otherwise, all that has been planned will be u n f u l f i l l e d — n e i t h e r I nor the cinema needs this.
T h e suspension of the established m e t h o d of c o n q u e r i n g film technique will lead to hack-work—why do we need t h a t w h e n t h e r e is so m u c h of it as it is?
Only with a loss o f reason o r i n dishonesty will I agree t o w o r k
without the right to work alongside all the members of o u r c o l l e c t i v e a n d in accordance with our fair details.
It cannot be otherwise, and, indeed, I have n o t t h e r i g h t to do otherwise.
[1926] time, the public, the critics, a n d the studios were forewarned of this. It
was imperative for me to give the filmed "bills of fare" the kind of form that would insure their financial solvency, which, in fact, we were lucky enough to have done.
In order to show w h a t was most i m p o r t a n t in these films, a clever theme was unnecessary; what was needed was enough Americanism to prove the high level of our technical skill (in organized hands), comparable with the most technically skilled Americans.
One must regret that the d e m a n d for fine workers in Soviet cinema is still insufficiently developed.
But this is all right; this stems from an unfamiliarity a n d deepest ignorance of the business, a n d with time it will pass; that is why none of the knowledgeable craftsmen need feel hurt by the critics who, while they c o n d e m n The Death Ray for its ideology, overlooked my task a n d the form in which it could have been realized.
I promised to prove that despite our p o o r technical resources we
could produce an inexpensive film of a European-style virtuosity, a n d / have fulfilled my promise.
But the conditions for the fulfillment of this task were so b u r d e n s o m e that the thematic side of the work might very well have been unsatisfactory—this was my inalienable right as a h u m a n being, in attempting to solve a major, important, b u t as yet unresolved problem.
After Ray it was vital to demonstrate one's work on psychological, deeply dramatic film works.
T h e low cost of production, the convincing internal work of the actor-mannequin—these are the very problems that deserve to be b r o a d e n e d now.
F r o m this m o m e n t on begins that struggle with administrators a n d producers of film enterprises, which still prevents me from even attempting to p r o d u c e dramatic chamber-films.
T h e habit of the obstinacy of workers has, apparently, frightened the film studios, a n d in order to insure Kuleshov against an obsession with "Americanism," he is being offered the most venerable, the most theatrical, a n d therefore the most worthless, film actors a n d staff.