1925: Rewriting the Revolution

Battleship Potemkin (1925)
aka Bronenosets Potemkin, The Armored Cruiser Potemkin
Directed by Sergei Eisenstein
74 min; U.S.S.R.; Black and White; Silent

Spoilers alert: as so many film classes, books and videos show and discuss this week's Film of the Year I'm going to assume that you've already seen it and write about it in detail. However, if you haven't seen the film I recommend that you do before you read more. It's in the public domain and you can download it for free right here.

Sergei Eisenstein's landmark film Battleship Potemkin (1925) tells the story of a mutiny of Russian sailors aboard the titular ship, their support of citizens protesting in Odessa, and the government's bloody response. It is based on actual events that took place during the 1905 Russian Revolution. Lenin suggested cinema's unrivaled intellectual and emotional power to enlighten and persuade a mass audience when he dubbed film "the most important of all arts." Likewise, Eisenstein was convinced of the potential of his films to reveal and interpret the ideas of the socialist cause, and to make those ideas attractive to an audience. His intention was to get across a political message through his movies. In the case of Battleship Potemkin, the political message was the success of the Bolshevik revolution and the socialist ideas of Soviet Russia. To champion Soviet Russia Eisenstein was willing to rewrite history in the film: Battleship Potemkin paints the mutinous sailors as part of a heroic collective who are joined, at last, by the Russian fleet sent out to destroy them. The reality of the revolution in 1905 was very different. The government regained control, the Potemkin was isolated from the rest of the fleet (which did not join the cause) and the revolution failed to overthrow the Czarist government. However, after the success of the 1917 Bolshevik revolution, and the establishment of a new Soviet regime in Russia, Eisenstein was not only willing, but given his mastery of the visual language of cinema, also able to create a myth of a successful revolution to better underscore the political climate in which he was working. The Soviet government commissioned the film to commemorate the twentieth anniversary of the 1905 Revolution, and Eisenstein was amenable to revising the true history of the failed coup in order to please them. Both understood the power of cinema as a propaganda tool that could be manipulated to benefit the designs of the state. Battleship Potemkin glorifies the convictions of the Soviet regime at the expense of historical accuracy, but in so doing tells us about history in ways it's creators never intended.

Vakulinchuk, a symbol for all the heroes of the revolution.

Early in the film Eisenstein establishes the idea that not one, but all of Potemkin's mistreated sailors are the heroes of his film. Together they protest the rotten food aboard ship, together they face execution, together they take control of the Potemkin. When the sailors protest the miserable living conditions aboard the ship the officers respond by having the protesting sailors rounded up, covered by a tarpaulin, and face a firing squad. One of their fellow sailors, Vakulinchuk (Aleksandr Antonov), convinces the firing squad not to shoot at their brothers. Easily swayed by the horrible conditions aboard ship they join their fellow sailors in a violent battle against the officers and take control of the Potemkin. Though spotlighted in this part of the film, Vakulinchuk's rallying cry to the firing squad and subsequent death in the ensuing battle are only significant as catalysts that propel the group to take action. He's not the hero of the film. No individual character is the hero of this film. Rather, an expanding group of revolutionaries fill that role and Vakulinchuk serves as a symbol for them (consequently, this situation also tags the director as auteur since he doesn't have to share creative ideas or credit with any lead actors).

Following the successful mutiny the victorious sailors take the Potemkin to the port of Odessa to bury Vakulinchuk's body. News of the mutiny spreads among the citizens who rush out to support the sailors and provide them with supplies. Tsarist troops, sent out to control these people, shoot at them from the top of the Odessa steps. Here Eisenstein famously uses rhythmic montage to tell a story of relentless cossacks massacring the citizens of Odessa, using editing to convey meaning and emotion. Rapid cross-cutting from the boots and bayonets of the cossacks to close-ups and extreme close-ups of the frightened and suffering victims instills a growing sense of terror in the audience. Moreover, even though we don't see much actual violence take place on the screen we make leaps of logic between the images and are convinced that a massacre is taking place. But the deaths occur mostly in our minds. This sequence reinforces Potemkin's collective hero motif: everyday citizens have become martyrs for the revolutionary cause. However, according to Daniel Gerould's Historical Simulation and Popular Entertainment: The "Potemkin" Mutiny from Reconstructed Newsreel to Black Sea Stunt Men, the history of what occurred in Odessa is quite different: "extensive looting by an unruly mob took place and the cossacks and soldiers shot those trying to escape from the burning port by the only possible route, the stairs" (Gerould 1989, 176). By subverting the details of history to his politically charged aims—showing the people of Odessa as innocents dying heroic deaths instead of an out-of-control mob confronted by troops trying to maintain order—Eisenstein extends the notion of that the populace itself is the hero of the revolution.

We're convinced that a massacre is taking place even though we never actually see any violence occur in this segment trimmed from the Odessa steps sequence.

As Gerould notes, "Eisensten's most striking intervention in the historical record was his turning a humiliating defeat into a great revolutionary victory by ending his film with the triumphant meeting of the battleship Potemkin with the squadron sent to attack it" (Gerould, 177). Eisenstein uses rhythmic montage and rising music to generate suspense around this dramatic stand-off.

The tense scene is marked by a single ominously-worded title card in the middle the montage: "will they open fire?" and ultimately relieved, rather creatively, with a close-up image of one single sailor breaking into a smile followed by a title that reads, "Brothers!" The revolution is a success, the squadron joins the Potemkin (or at least doesn't stop her) and the sailors race on deck to cheer their moment of triumph. The Battleship Potemkin's provocative final shot sees the ship's giant prow head right toward the audience with the sailors now waving directly at us as though the revolution is moving beyond the confines of the screen and into our reality (see photo top). However, in our reality, the Potemkin was run off by the squadron, isolated from the rest of the fleet, wandered the Black Sea for a time, and finally surrendered to authorities near Romania. Eisenstein's version of events turns this ultimate defeat into a victory and a rallying cry to the audience itself to join the revolution.

This film regularly appears in critics' best films of all time lists, and rightly so because the innovations in montage are quite influential (for example, music videos are but one result of this style). However, Eisenstein's rewriting of the history of the 1905 Russian Revolution is just as significant because it reminds us that when we see a film purporting to be a history we must examine the motivation of those who filmed that history and the context in which they are working. More important than knowing that a film "based on historical events," etc,. has changed facts or gets something wrong is knowing why those facts are changed by the filmmakers. Potemkin is obviously propaganda, but the film also stands as a reminder to look closer at filmmakers and the social context in which historical films are made.

***

Note: This is a work in progress but I've decided to post it anyway and test the waters so to speak. So far I've only been able to cull together a few facts about the film's American journey. After the movie's release in Russia, it enjoyed a successful run in Germany earning praise from celebrities such as Douglas Fairbanks, Max Reinhardt and Emil Jennings. An invite-only screening was held at Wurlitzer Hall in New York on August 31, 1926. Reportedly, American distributors in attendance doubted the film's commercial potential and none expressed interest after the screening. It was eventually released, however, opening before a packed house at the Biltmore Theater in New York City on December 5, 1926 albeit as a censored version titled, The Armored Cruiser Potemkin (shots of squirming maggots in meat, a dead boy and blood on a woman's dress were among the cuts). Critic Mordaunt Hall recognized Eisenstein's talent, and placed the film in his top ten list for 1926, though he yearned for the director to find inspiration beyond state propaganda, "it would be interesting to see what Mr. Eisenstein could do with a less prejudiced subject, one wherein he did not have to rake up a mutiny of more than twenty years ago" ("Pictures From Three Countries," New York Times, 12 December 1926, x9). These facts only lead me to ask more questions: Were commercial considerations the only factors motivating the film's delay in the U.S. or were politics involved? What firm eventually took a chance and distributed the movie despite its limited box office potential? How/why did censors choose the specific shots to cut? How did the film fare in the rest of the U.S. after it's debut in New York? What was the result of the film's U.S. run? Amazing that this most over-discussed film continues to generate areas of inquiry.

This essay written by Thom Ryan
© 2007 Thom Ryan Some rights reserved

Comments

[Squish]

"Those aren't worms, they're maggots. Just wash out the meat with brine." I laughed when I read that Intertitle, knowing that the doctor who spoke those words would be one of the ones to get it the worst.

I guess 1925 is one of the easier years to select a film for. In fact, I'd bet you'd be ragged on for chosing anything else but this most-influential film.

I wonder when the first dissenting voice will ring, asking you why you chose 'Film X' rather than 'Film Y'. Either way, you've been defending your selections rather well to date. In fact I look forwad to the first voices, in hopes that you're made to review two films for one year... so that we may all benefit of your lessons.

Keep it up Thom!

[Thom]

Y'know nothing tops an ocean voyage with maggot-infested meat for breakfast. Mmmm...

Thanks for the support, Squish. So far, the feedback I recall about specific choices has been in the "I wasn't expecting you to go with that one," type of comment (which I kind of like). The rest have been suggestions and those have really beefed up my Netflix queue (if only they'd let you reserve more than 500 at a time). One suggestion already convinced me to write about a film too. I'm sure somebody (who thinks my blog title is a proclamation) will take me to task one these days :) Probably when I choose to write about Before the Rain instead of Pulp Fiction or something.

[goatdog]

My dear Mae Tinee at the Chicago Tribune discusses the situation in Chicago. Sorry about the huge comment.

First she says the Playhouse theater, which was supposed to show this film as its opening-night feature, had to delay its opening by over a week because the local censor board "hung onto [it] for a week, and thus did not allow time for orchestra scoring and other necessary arrangements" (Sep. 3, 1927, p. 9).

Then she complains about the censors' hack-work: "'Potemkin,' a Russian production, chosen as the opening wedge [of the 'little cinema movement,' a move away from elaborate stage productions and jazz orchestras accompanying the film]--in which please find Emil Jannings if you can--is a tragic, powerful and terrible film that has been considerably gouged by the shears of the censors. At least I am sure that is the only explanation why something so brilliantly directed in the main, should be so patchy in places.... The ending is unsatisfactory. You feel there more strongly than ever the film has been hacked by ruthless, ignorant hands. I would like to see 'Potemkin' uncensored. And if Emil Jannings is in it, as advertised, I would most certainly like to see him, too." ("Little Cinema Movement Gets Under Way Here: Powerful Picture Shows Censor's Mangling," Sep. 12, 1927, p. 31.)

But then the next day she prints a retraction: "I am asked by the Playhouse press representative to state that the Chicago censors made no cuts at all in 'Potemkin.' That Chicago is seeing the complete film. The director then is not as great as I had thought him" ("Closeups," Sep. 13, 1927, p. 31). [But we already know from your research, Thom, that the film was probably already cut when it got to Chicago.]

On the 15th, a print ad says the film is "COMPLETE--UNCUT BY THE CENSORS" (p. 28). On the 18th another ad thanks the citizens of Chicago for their support of the "little cinema movement" and apologizes "to the hundreds of people we have had to turn away from our doors" (p. G4). On the 21st an ad says the film will run until the 24th, when a movie about Freud starts. On Oct. 23, a movie fan writes to clear up the censorship issue, telling Miss Tinee that the New York censors had cut the film.

[Thom]

Wow, excellent work Mike. No need to apologize—more content is good. Thank you. Maybe Tinee was befuddled by Eisenstein's montage sequences and thought an overzealous censor was hard at work, lol. I love it. We know there were various active state censor boards, each with its own standards, so despite that fan's letter on the 23rd there is a possibility that a different uncut print was sent to Chicago. Thanks again for adding so much info on the film's initial American run.

[goatdog]

You may be on to something about Tinee being befuddled--she keeps talking about Emil Jannings, who, as far as I can tell, was never advertised as being in the film. The ad you provide has his name, but just as a celebrity endorsement. None of the Chicago ads said his name at all, so I don't know where she got that.

I know that Chicago was the center of Midwest distribution, so other towns in the Midwest usually got prints that Chicago censors had hacked up, but I don't know enough about national distribution channels to know where Chicago got their prints. I need to look into that.

[Squish]

Canada's version of Netflix queues up 800 films then "parks" all subsequent selections. Of course you can always shift the order, so unparking is no problem. To quote the Simpsons "Ha Ha"

[Thom]

When Lenin said, "Cinema is for us the most important of all arts," I wonder if this film is exactly what he had in mind...

[Pacze Moj]

And to think that Eisenstein intended the Potemkin event as only a part of a larger film project. As I bemoaned Riefenstahl's destroyed career in the comments of your Triumph of the Will post, I'll bemoan the non-existence of this larger Eisenstein project here!

The information about Potemkin screenings in America is interesting. Funny how actors like Jannings and Fairbanks praise the film, even though, as you mention, the film doesn't rely on its actors past their physical appearance. It's not an "actor's film" by any stretch!

I wrote a short paper on Eisenstein's use of time in Potemkin a few years ago. Although I focused on his speeding up and slowing down of events when put to film (the massacre sequence, for example, is horrifically longer than it would have been in reality), I didn't think to include what you've pointed out: Eisenstein's selective use of the historical time-line, to turn defeat into victory.

PS: There's also some kind of issue about the Soviet flag in the film. I think the original print had it tinted red.

[Thom]

The speed of events in the film isn't something I'd considered before, Pacze Moj. Your mention of it does strike a chord in my memory of the Odessa steps montage though. It could be argued that a large part of the horror of the sequence is supported by the unnatural duration of events unfolding on the screen. I also remember reading about the red flag too, but the public domain print I viewed didn't include that feature. Thank you for the thougthful and informed feedback.