Diary entries forAndrei Rublev
Andrei Rublev
good movie, the cinematography soo beautiful. Love it
Andrei Rublev
‘What is praised today is abused tomorrow. They will forget you, me, everything. All is vanity and ashes. Worse things have been forgotten. Humanity has already committed every stupidity and baseness, and now it only repeals them. Everything is an eternal circle and it repeats and repeated itself. If Jesus returned to earth, they would crucify him again.’ The greatest portrayal of faith and creation, one of the greatest expressions of art in suffering, and a full circle of masterful writing. Art is truth, and this is art.
Andrei Rublev
Out of all of Tarkovskys work this is undoubtedly my least favourite, and strangely it’s his highest rated. Don’t get me wrong it’s a beautiful film with lots of his best shots and scenes, but as a whole I found this difficult to get through. Unlike Mirror, which I believe to be the greatest film ever made, I didn’t really find this all to interesting or captivating. Maybe it’s because I’m not religious, which I have seen people say it’s better to watch this if you are. Definitely but no means bad, but definitely not something I would recommend to anyone who isn’t film obsessed like I am.
Andrei Rublev
I doubt I'll ever find the right words for Tarkovsky. These are exquisite works that defy any verbal or written encapsulation. I find as I'm drawn into his films, I'm also drawn inwards in direct proportion. With introspective, slow-burning cinema (say, Bergman) I can usually remain slightly aloof, allowing for a kind of external questioning and participation with a dialogue outside of myself. But with Tarkovsky I'm ensnared. Maybe the tie is chiefly a visual one, a matter of composition, atmosphere, and timing. Maybe it's many of the films' eerie quality of unease, possessive of any viewer who allows for a silent, uninterrupted session. I'm sure some of it has to do with a Russian framework so completely alien to a post-1980's, North American suburban existence. With Andrei Rublev (or, "The Passion According to Andrei", as subtitles state), the sweep of continental history that defies a non-native viewer almost aids in the immensity of feeling. Sadness coats the world, with only the most crippling religiosity to defend against an Asiatic abyss. What is said of penance, faith, and human suffering, I can't begin to reprise. However, in journeying with figures like those in the film through physical and emotional wastes for so long, there is some sense of celebration and even wonder that we (at a species level) manage to accomplish our acts and feats or embrace our own existence at all. Mere survival is a threshhold to be left far behind, our short lifespans demanding inexpressible and undefined ends. In this film is partitioned the life of a monk and artist, the casting of a national identity, and a purpose that may yet only reside in the strength we devote to the search. Reading that over again, I don't know if that's how I mean to say it. Just go watch Tarkovsky's films.
Andrei Rublev
Задача искусства — не давать ответы, а задавать вопросы.
Andrei Rublev
Я Богу служу, а не князю.
Andrei Rublev
Sanat ve maneviyat Aşırı dinsel
Andrei Rublev
rublev as a witness rather than a protagonist in the active sense makes so much sense. being a bystander while his faith and sense of vocation is shaken brings about a very human and genuine portrayal of an artist to date.
Andrei Rublev
This film is absolutely stunning and beautiful, it’s almost overwhelming. Every scene is filled with so much elemental power that it really immerses you. Some scenes are very slow at times, but that’s intentional, Andrei Tarkovsky wants you to take your time, truly experience the scenes, and feel them rather than just watch them. The cinematography and story are gripping and complement each other perfectly. It’s fascinating to witness Andrei’s development - from a motivated icon painter to, by the end, a quiet, depressed, and traumatized man in 15th-century medieval Russia, who has witnessed events that deeply affected him and his work. The last part of the film, especially the ending, is incredible. When the young bell maker decides to make the bell, he takes a huge risk by deceiving the others. But that’s exactly what Tarkovsky wants to show, in the Soviet Union, art and media were restricted and heavily censored, and people were afraid to act because they thought it wouldn’t be allowed or would fail. Yet here, the bell maker takes the risk and succeeds. That’s why the ending is so special and meaningful. The transition to color at the end feels like a breakthrough from Andrei’s depression and silence, symbolizing that hope has triumphed and inspired him to pursue art again. It’s a brilliant film, and I find myself appreciating Tarkovsky more and more with each movie.
