How can you keep on merging poetry and imagination while something so obscene and “practical” like troops invading a country is happening under your nose?
Dunno, maybe that’s what they must have thought at Soyuzmultfilm on August 1968, when five Warsaw Pact nations – the Soviet Union, Bulgaria, Hungary, East Germany and Poland – decided to invade Czechoslovakia.
Maybe no one thought about anything.
Maybe nobody was moved by what was happening.
To me, however, it is interesting to think about what producers, actors and filmmakers might have thought.
In over 80 years Soyuzmultfilm has probably become the first and most influential animation studio of the former Soviet Union and modern Russian Federation. It has become so by producing something like 1528 films and being one of the most ethnically-integrated and artistically-free cultural industries of Russia. In addition, it has created certain iconic characters that have become an integral part of Soviet culture, such as the “socialist” and kind of depressed version of Winnie-the-Pooh and the “originals” Gena the Crocodile and Hedgehog in the Fog.
I mean, Soyuzmultfilm, before the collapse of the SU, was dope, for one thing.
One of his best Soviet productions came indeed out in 1968, long before the end of its golden (and mf socialist) era.
An animated film based on H. C. Andersen’s famous fairy tale “The Little Mermaid”, Rusalochka/Русалочка is what I consider my own personal “most worthwhile 27 minutes of life on this planet”.
Whether you are a fan of Disney‘s adaptation or not, I cannot stress enough how this movie is an actual little marvel of its own: even if there are no memorable shell-shaped bras, nor fabulous red hair (this hair look more like milky jellyfish with very long tentacles) or particularly fascinating princes (unfortunately, this one is just a dodo), Rusalochka is a tasteful charm that you just can’t unsee.
In my opinion, the charm of this film lies not only in its wonderful photography, but also in its sound and animation that harmoniously articulate all these elements in few minutes without sacrificing the poignant poetry of Andersen’s writing. Indeed, it seems to me that this quilt of geometric lines and traditional colors as well as the powerful and dramatic music, are able to perfectly convey that sense of sad inadequacy and absolute love devotion that I could read between the lines of Andersen’s fairy tale.
Out of all the topics that H.C.A. chose to write about, there is one that really pops up from the tale and the movie as well.
That is, how dumb and in love can we be sometime?
So dumb that, according to H.C.A, someone (namely, the mermaid) would freely and soberly decide to have “her tender feet” feeling “as if cut with sharp knives” without even caring for it, as “a sharper pang had pierced through her heart”.
The answer to the above-mentioned question, by the way, could be found in the following movie dialogue:
“What have you seen?”
– Nothing!
“Nothing? And what about the winter flowers on the shore of the sea? Or the birds in the sky? Or the snow-covered mountains?”
– I saw nothing… only him!
“Did you not meet the fast stallions, just sit on them while they take you to faraway lands? Did you not see the many colors of fire?”
– I saw nothing… only him!”
Doesn’t look like an answer, right?
Well, it actually is.
When we are in love, we decide to see some things and unsee some others.
We, in particular, peak what obsesses us as we turn one blind eye on all else that is beautiful and healthy for our soul.
It’s not a common rule, but sometime love is toxic.
Sometime love is a selfless and suicidal act of devotion.
Just sometime.