Strike

Sergei Mikhailovich Eisenstein was a master of the film medium, employing cinematic techniques that were as revolutionary as the tumultuous times in which he lived. He was an innovative genius, a theoretician, and a tutor for generations of aspiring directors - most notably, Orson Welles, who reportedly claimed that the celluloid inspirations for Citizen Kane were influenced by Eisenstein’s 1925 masterpiece, Battleship Potemkin. Although his career spanned 25 years, Eisenstein had completed only six feature films, most of which were communist-inspired propaganda, approved and supervised by the rigid conditions of the Stalinist censors. After 1925 and Potemkin, his film projects consisted mostly of failed ventures that did not amount to fruition. However, those that were completed, like Ivan the Terrible Parts I & II, were far more introspective than his earlier spectacles, October and Alexander Nevsky.

Sergei Eisenstein was born on January 23, 1898, to Mikail Osipovich and Yulia Ivanovna Eisenstein, both assimilated and baptised Jews residing in Riga, Tsarist Russia. When his parents separated in 1905, Sergei remained in Riga and St. Petersburg, receiving an extensive education and becoming fluent in several languages, including French, German, and English. An architect and civil engineer, Sergei’s father was adamant that his son be trained in the same profession; however, Eisenstein’s interest was tied into theatre.

The singular most influential event in Eisenstein’s life was the 1917 October Revolution, an event that held deep repercussions in the development of his cinematic techniques. Mikail Eisenstein enlisted in the White Guards; Sergei was accepted into the Red Army, where he was a civil engineer. Desperate to be involved in theatre, Eisenstein managed to enter into the Red Army’s propaganda units, boarding trains and traversing across the front to fiercely-contested areas to film the Revolution and its participants - peasants, workers, and soldiers loyal to the Bolshevik cause.

In 1922, Lenin revealed to Lunacharsky that, “of all the arts, for us the cinema was the most important.� Realising the importance of the film medium’s ability to convey communist ideals and beliefs in a manner that was both informative and manipulative - in essence, an effective tool in which to incite national fervour - the Soviet government encouraged the growth of a burgeoning film and theatre industry. According to director Igor Yutkevich in an interview in 1966, “they were astonishing and wonderful days... the beginnings of revolutionary art... Our elders had been dispersed throughout the country, or had perished in the Civil War, or had left Russia. Hence the Republic lacked a clear organisation, lacked people; and our way in was easy... the country wanted us to work, the country needed people in every department of culture.�

Eisenstein enrolled in a theatre group tutored by the legendary arts director Vsevelod Meyerhold, whose classes specialised in “biomechanics,� which entailed the application of decisive stage movement and acrobatics; from here, Sergei was taught not only the theories of set design, but also stage production, direction, and acting. After serving on numerous stage productions as principle designer, including an adaptation of Jack London’s The Mexican, Eisenstein gradually assumed more responsibility with each presentation, eventually becoming a director. His need for extravagance and spectacle were limited by the confinements of stage production; his production of Gas Masks, which he directed and revolved around proletarians working in a refinery, was moved outside the theatre and into a gas factory.

In 1924, the Prolekult Theatre presented Eisenstein, then only 26 years old, the opportunity to direct the first episode of an eight-part film series Towards the Dictatorship; Eisenstein’s instalment, Strike, proved to be the only one made. However, its impact on Soviet - and, indeed, world - cinema would be immeasurable, as it served as the precursor to perhaps one of the greatest films ever made, Battleship Potemkin.

An intricate fictional reconstruction of a 1912 factory dispute in Tsarist Russia, Strike is notable for several reasons; it was Eisenstein’s first feature film, and included revolutionary cinematic techniques that would soon become his trademarks, in particular, his devastating use of the Kuloshov ‘montage’ style and the superimposition of animals as metaphors for human characteristics. Strike also features a rarity in an Eisenstein film: a deliberate and merciless stab at ironic humour, which simply drips venom.

Discordant with work conditions within the factory, its employees rebel against the hierarchy’s draconian measures, which include extended work hours for minimum wages; in a particularly brutal and telling visual parable, an unscrupulous corporate dictator squeezes juice from an orange - suggesting the old maxim of drawing blood from a stone.

However, the decision to strike arises when a proletarian is falsely implicated with the theft of a micrometer. Humiliated by the accusations of his employers and unable to live with the stigma of being branded a thief, the worker commits suicide on the factory floor by hanging himself with his belt. Incensed, the other workers revolt, assaulting the foremen and causing destruction to the factory itself; the wheels of industry halt, and the factory dies.

At first, reaction from the hierarchy is clandestine: the police and the factory bosses conspire to establish a network of spies and informers. Agent provocateurs infiltrate the ranks of the strikers, creating internal upheaval and uncovering the proletarian leadership. With their leader apprehended, the workers and their supporters are massacred by police and mounted militia in a scene that is both stunning and horrific; it should be mentioned that there are scenes that occur during this carnage which may offend some people.

Principally, the moments when a militia guard throws a baby from a multi-storied floor and the horrendously explicit footage in which a bull is ritually slaughtered at an abattoir will violate the senses of sensitive viewers. Although Strike is classified with a PG rating, it is perhaps best to remember that this film, despite its cultural and socio-political importance, may not be suitable for children in this age group.

Strike is presented in its correct aspect ratio of 1.33:1, and is not anamorphic. Taking into account that this transfer was lifted, as far as I can ascertain, from the original 77 year old print and digitally remastered, the results are wonderful. Indeed, this transfer represents the flip side of DVD. Rather than just deliver the best video and audio possible in the most convenient format, DVD also allows the preservation, without further deterioration, of films that would, otherwise, not be available to future generations of film buffs.

Blacks are strong and solid, and there are wonderful shades of grey. Details are remarkably sharp, and, in several places, could almost be deemed crisp. Definition is also excellent; the maniacally-laughing factory proprietor near the film’s beginning is very impressive, as the contours of his face are clearly visible, complete with facial pores and laugh lines. The factory’s interior, with its labyrinthine aisles of tools and machinery, is also a standout.

Of course, there is an abundance of film artefacts present, consisting of nicks, scratches, and dirt; there seemed to be no significant print damage. Naturally, flaws such as these are to be expected in a film of this era; at no time did I regard them as intrusive. Minor MPEG artefacts are present within this transfer, but cannot be deemed as anything of major concern. Slight grain, too, seemed to be present, but this can be attributed to the film itself and is not indicative of the actual transfer.

Unlike the Force Video vintage titles, The Blue Angel and October, Strike does not suffer from drastic fluctuations in brightness and contrast levels. On the contrary, levels were extremely consistent and rarely produced anything other a slight tremor. Because it was filmed in black-and-white, there are no issues associated with colour-bleeding and oversaturation.

There are two audio selections available, that of the Dolby Digital 2.0 and the English Dolby Digital 2.0 commentary. As Strike was produced during the silent era, there is, of course, no dialogue. In addition to being digitally remastered, a brand new modern soundtrack for the film has been introduced. Purists may cry foul that the original orchestral track has been removed, however, the new film score, courtesy of a performance group calling itself Junk Metal Music, perfectly suits the mood and nature of the film.

Like the film itself, Junk Metal Music’s soundtrack has a dramatic quasi-classical industrial feel to it, underscored with Tsarist influences. Listened to via the Dolby Pro-Logic decoder, it is featured in all five channels and contains a subtle re-directed bass signal which, for me at least, provided an immersive atmosphere without being overbearing.

Despite not being mentioned at all on the DVD cover slick, Strike contains an informative and mentally-stimulating commentary from the University of Chicago film professor Ivan Tsivian. Although maintaining a Russian accent, Tsivian’s vocal presentation is always clear and easy to understand, and he provides some quite startling revelations about Eisenstein theological ambitions with Strike and the film’s background. Put simply, this is a brilliant addition that deserves more mention.

Although a simplistic film plot-wise, Strike’s emotive power stems from Eisenstein’s remarkably assured, innovative direction. From the first moments when the audience is introduced to the factory’s grimy reality, with its pulsating industrial machinations, to the final haunting image of a worker’s hate-filled eyes, inciting rebellion, this film remains a damning indictment on the caste struggles between the exploitive corporate few and the exploited, down-trodden workers.

As long as this situation exists within the world, Strike and films of similar ilk - including Eisenstein’s other works and Fritz Lang’s Metropolis - will continue to be of relevance.