Andrei Rublev Reviews

  • May 13, 2020

    Andrei Tarkovsky's magnum opus has amazing directing to create one of the most artistic films ever made.

    Andrei Tarkovsky's magnum opus has amazing directing to create one of the most artistic films ever made.

  • May 03, 2020

    One for the movie critics but not the general viewer. Set aside a Sunday to wade through this. First half of film is particularly turgid and second half improves but still not captivating. A few good scenes though and brings to life the extraordinary brutality that went into producing the ancient masterpieces we see around the world.

    One for the movie critics but not the general viewer. Set aside a Sunday to wade through this. First half of film is particularly turgid and second half improves but still not captivating. A few good scenes though and brings to life the extraordinary brutality that went into producing the ancient masterpieces we see around the world.

  • Apr 15, 2020

    Tarkovsky takes religiosity and artistry to a highly poetic and critical path that resonates the turmoils of the filmmaker's emotions.

    Tarkovsky takes religiosity and artistry to a highly poetic and critical path that resonates the turmoils of the filmmaker's emotions.

  • Apr 01, 2020

    Perhaps the most contemplative epic ever made, Andrei Rublev dives into themes of creativity, greed, and the divine vs the individual, building from source material obscure enough to provide Tarkovsky with a virtually blank canvas. Conceived with tremendous forethought down to the last detail, and wonderfully shot. You'll never see horses in the same way again. (4.5/5)

    Perhaps the most contemplative epic ever made, Andrei Rublev dives into themes of creativity, greed, and the divine vs the individual, building from source material obscure enough to provide Tarkovsky with a virtually blank canvas. Conceived with tremendous forethought down to the last detail, and wonderfully shot. You'll never see horses in the same way again. (4.5/5)

  • Feb 07, 2020

    I had seen this film once before on DVD and marvelled at its confidence and its character, but didn't fully click with it; preferring Ivan's Childhood and Stalker, but favouring it above Solaris, Sacrifice and Mirror. Crammed behind two tall idiots with big heads, the movie started as I remembered: slow, muddy, slightly confusing, the print was a beautifully ugly, crackly 35mm and it reminded me of watching films on the old tinny CRTs in the corner of a college classroom. I was tired and the hypnotic quality and languid opening pace of Andrei Rublev put me in a right placid state. I was ready to fall asleep. But. Somewhere around chapter 4, the film just opened up as if the frames around the screen just melted away and I fully and wholly transported into the film, it was the kind of movie magic you only read about and rarely undergo; instead of falling asleep, I woke up into the dream world of Andrei Rublev. I absolutely loved it. There's not a lot I need to say about the film, and its place within Tarkovsky's oeuvre, about his poetry, about the lead actors, the Kurosawa-esque Tartar raid, the incredible segment with the bell, all of this has been written about more elegantly and prosaically than I will be able to do right now. But I will say that when Andrei chose to utter his final words, and the film shifted from black and white to colour, I was almost in tears, sure that I had witnesses something else; the magic of cinema. And I felt that everybody in the packed Prince Charles, there at 2pm on a sunny Saturday to see it, had felt it too.

    I had seen this film once before on DVD and marvelled at its confidence and its character, but didn't fully click with it; preferring Ivan's Childhood and Stalker, but favouring it above Solaris, Sacrifice and Mirror. Crammed behind two tall idiots with big heads, the movie started as I remembered: slow, muddy, slightly confusing, the print was a beautifully ugly, crackly 35mm and it reminded me of watching films on the old tinny CRTs in the corner of a college classroom. I was tired and the hypnotic quality and languid opening pace of Andrei Rublev put me in a right placid state. I was ready to fall asleep. But. Somewhere around chapter 4, the film just opened up as if the frames around the screen just melted away and I fully and wholly transported into the film, it was the kind of movie magic you only read about and rarely undergo; instead of falling asleep, I woke up into the dream world of Andrei Rublev. I absolutely loved it. There's not a lot I need to say about the film, and its place within Tarkovsky's oeuvre, about his poetry, about the lead actors, the Kurosawa-esque Tartar raid, the incredible segment with the bell, all of this has been written about more elegantly and prosaically than I will be able to do right now. But I will say that when Andrei chose to utter his final words, and the film shifted from black and white to colour, I was almost in tears, sure that I had witnesses something else; the magic of cinema. And I felt that everybody in the packed Prince Charles, there at 2pm on a sunny Saturday to see it, had felt it too.

  • Dec 11, 2019

    marvellous and transcendental

    marvellous and transcendental

  • Dec 08, 2019

    Simply a masterpiece. Don't feel myself eligible to review it. A must watch.

    Simply a masterpiece. Don't feel myself eligible to review it. A must watch.

  • Sep 23, 2019

    The biggest problem I have with Tarkovsky is the tedious pace that he uses to tell his stories. Andrei Rublev has a lot going on in the film, and there are some quite active moments, so it didn’t quite bore me as much as I expected. He still takes his time, and loves to linger on a shot for much longer than necessary, but this movie didn’t have the stillness that I feared. One thing that I hate, and I see in many artsy films like Andrei Rublev, is the use of unclear symbolism and visual metaphors. I don’t pick up on that kind of thing well, and when it’s something as obtuse as random horses showing up in different scenes, I find myself getting annoyed rather than intrigued. One big example is the opening scene, which might be the most baffling opening of any film I’ve ever watched as it doesn’t seem to tie into the story at all, but I’m sure it does in some metaphorical way. Andrei Rublev is divided up into chapters which worked for me because it gave me good opportunities to stop the DVD periodically and do something I found more interesting before diving back in. However, I felt the movie lacked a good pace, because it was chopped up with these weird time and location jumps. I couldn’t connect the dots well to where Rublev was or what he was doing. I also found it terribly hard to differentiate one character from another. They all look so drab and have few distinguishing characteristics. And the story brings people back frequently, expecting you to know who that is and what they did before. Thankfully, I kept the Wikipedia plot description open the entire time I watched the film and that helped keep me on track with the story. It’s kind of odd that a film about a painter who is responsible for all the dynamic and colorful art we see at the end is told in such a bland black-and-white. The shots are clearly well-thought-out and could be stunning in full color, but Tarkovsky likes his palate full of grey. (At least it wasn’t the sepia he used in Stalker.) The oddest thing about Andrei Rublev was that the chapter I found most fascinating was the final one about the bellmaker where the titular character is just a bit part. This felt like a full film in itself, and I was astounded by some of the work they put into recreating the complex bellmaking procedures. It’s not something we think about all that much in our industrial age, but there was so much intense and complex labor necessary to construct things of that magnitude. But, overall, Andrei Rublev remained yet another Tarkovsky film that did little to interest me.

    The biggest problem I have with Tarkovsky is the tedious pace that he uses to tell his stories. Andrei Rublev has a lot going on in the film, and there are some quite active moments, so it didn’t quite bore me as much as I expected. He still takes his time, and loves to linger on a shot for much longer than necessary, but this movie didn’t have the stillness that I feared. One thing that I hate, and I see in many artsy films like Andrei Rublev, is the use of unclear symbolism and visual metaphors. I don’t pick up on that kind of thing well, and when it’s something as obtuse as random horses showing up in different scenes, I find myself getting annoyed rather than intrigued. One big example is the opening scene, which might be the most baffling opening of any film I’ve ever watched as it doesn’t seem to tie into the story at all, but I’m sure it does in some metaphorical way. Andrei Rublev is divided up into chapters which worked for me because it gave me good opportunities to stop the DVD periodically and do something I found more interesting before diving back in. However, I felt the movie lacked a good pace, because it was chopped up with these weird time and location jumps. I couldn’t connect the dots well to where Rublev was or what he was doing. I also found it terribly hard to differentiate one character from another. They all look so drab and have few distinguishing characteristics. And the story brings people back frequently, expecting you to know who that is and what they did before. Thankfully, I kept the Wikipedia plot description open the entire time I watched the film and that helped keep me on track with the story. It’s kind of odd that a film about a painter who is responsible for all the dynamic and colorful art we see at the end is told in such a bland black-and-white. The shots are clearly well-thought-out and could be stunning in full color, but Tarkovsky likes his palate full of grey. (At least it wasn’t the sepia he used in Stalker.) The oddest thing about Andrei Rublev was that the chapter I found most fascinating was the final one about the bellmaker where the titular character is just a bit part. This felt like a full film in itself, and I was astounded by some of the work they put into recreating the complex bellmaking procedures. It’s not something we think about all that much in our industrial age, but there was so much intense and complex labor necessary to construct things of that magnitude. But, overall, Andrei Rublev remained yet another Tarkovsky film that did little to interest me.

  • Nov 30, 2018

    Andrei Rublev is an archetypal Tarkovsky picture for better and for worse. It's a technical marvel owing to his phenomenal direction, a highly realistic depiction of its time period and absolutely amazing, artistic black-and-white photography. The various discussions and conversations are also reliably interesting and sophisticated. But the movie is simply way too slow and tedious at three and half hours plus the characterization is weak and the focus is definitely lacking. In the end, I respect this film a lot, but I honestly don't love it.

    Andrei Rublev is an archetypal Tarkovsky picture for better and for worse. It's a technical marvel owing to his phenomenal direction, a highly realistic depiction of its time period and absolutely amazing, artistic black-and-white photography. The various discussions and conversations are also reliably interesting and sophisticated. But the movie is simply way too slow and tedious at three and half hours plus the characterization is weak and the focus is definitely lacking. In the end, I respect this film a lot, but I honestly don't love it.

  • Nov 13, 2018

    a poetic masterpiece. maybe the greatest film ever made

    a poetic masterpiece. maybe the greatest film ever made