Directors: Andrei Tarkovsky and Eduard Abaloy
Writers: Vladimir Bogomolov, Mikhail Papava, and Andrei Tarkovsky
Stars: Nikolay Burlyaev, Valentin Zubkov, Evgeniy Zharikov
Synopsis: During WWII, Soviet orphan Ivan Bondarev strikes up a friendship with three sympathetic Soviet officers while working as a scout behind the German lines.
This film was viewed as part of the event, “Tarkovsky: 6 Films, Master Works by a Master of Cinema,” at the Kentucky Theatre, accompanied by a Q&A by Raymond De Luca, Assistant Professor of Russian Studies and International Film Studies at the University of Kentucky
Andrei Tarkovsky, likely only known in cinephile circles, is a difficult director to access. In many ways, he is clearly of his time and place. Additionally, as has been stated by many, he is better understood if you view the scripts as works of poetry as opposed to straightforward fiction. In viewing Ivan’s Childhood it becomes clear that this has been true since his foray into film in 1962. As a note, prior to this event, this reviewer had experienced three of his films, Stalker, Solaris, and Mirror. Ivan’s Childhood is a bit more straightforward and easy to follow, but is certainly not without flourish.
Ivan’s Childhood, at its root, tells the story of Ivan (Nikolay Burlyaev), a child who is actively surviving through World War II and attempting to be of help to the army as a scout. The title is designed to make the audience feel sorrow and loss quickly, and it is wildly effective. We only see moments of the child’s pure childhood in flashback. We see brief moments of his mother and his sister, of whom he has been robbed through the tortures of war. Ivan’s Childhood is an obliteration of childhood, of innocence. As we sometimes sit back and discuss death and war in a detached way, Tarkovsky shows us the cost. More importantly, he does not allow us to avert our gaze.
Although the film is not bloody or gory, when people die, it feels real and tactile. There is a genuine loss of life that is shown to not matter in the grand scheme of things. When we meet Ivan, especially for a child, he is tough as nails. He desperately wants to help and constantly tells others that his small size is an advantage. Ivan believes he will never be seen or caught, despite the rampant death around him.
One could argue that Ivan’s Childhood has a weakness of character in people not named Ivan. However, this feels like a feature, as opposed to a bug. Tarkovsky puts us in the place of a child. Adults are large, implacable, stubborn, and see the world in a different way. Unless he begs and pleads, Ivan is constantly at the whim of the adults. The only adult who stands apart is Ivan’s mother (Irina Tarkovskya) who is almost literally a beacon of light. Tarkovsky frames her as both a great beauty and focus of hope and acceptance. Tarkovsky’s consistent use of dreamlike images and shifting focus allows us to see his mother as Ivan sees her. A woman who could have made his life kind and easy, if not for war. In particular, a scene in which Ivan sees a star in a well will stay with the audience, causing both wonderment and confusion. Showing Ivan both above and below is a masterstroke, which focuses us on the change and the loss of his childhood.
Despite Francois Truffaut’s statement that there is no such thing as an anti-war film, I believe that Ivan’s Childhood accomplishes what he would consider to be impossible. Yes, there is heroism, risk, and goodness in many of the characters in the film. But there is absolutely no lionization of any of the Russian men featured here. Ivan’s Childhood has a particular point of view. That point of view is summed up in the cost of war. Despite being the titular character, Ivan is not inherently special. He is a child. A child who has been robbed. A child whose being has been mutilated due to the horrors of war. There are countless children like him, in every way, in every country in the world.
