Christ, I don't even know. Sergei Eisenstein might have been a genius of early cinema and an important film theorist, but he was also a total lunatic, and this movie, his first, shows that quite clearly. The movie's basic plot is as straightforward as its title sounds: it's about a bunch of factory workers in 1920s Russia who go on strike after one worker commits suicide. There are no central characters to follow and identify with; the film simply has a mass protagonist, the proletariat, and three villains, the bourgeoisie. Eisenstein even at this early stage was fanatically dedicated to the idea of montage and its potential for instilling a revolutionary consciousness in the people, so this entire movie is built around that principle. It's actually quite-exhausting to watch one brief image juxtaposed against another constantly; though the movie is only about 80 minutes long, it feels like 3 hours. The proletarians are noble and demand a 40 hour work week and so on; the bourgeoisie are wicked and fat and laugh to themselves while police put down the strike. One damn thing after another happens, and while it's easy to see the big picture, actually following the movie's logic moment to moment can be nearly impossible. The whole thing is bonkers.