I don't have to prove anything! And stop questioning me or you'll answer for it!
The likelihood is fairly small that most people viewing Ivan's Childhood nowadays have had much in the way of life experience to truly understand what a kid like Ivan had to endure in the waning years of World War II. Of course, the phenomenon of young children being pressed into combat has hardly subsided in the 21st century, but those kids in Africa, the Middle East and elsewhere are almost certainly not privy to watching old art house films detailing their predicament based on historical accounts of decades past. That probably was not as much the case in 1962, when director Andrei Tarkovsky and many others who lived through Germany's invasion of the USSR were right around the same age (their mid-to-late 20s) as the film's titular protagonist would have been if he'd survived. It's not necessary to have lived through such tribulations in order to empathize with or feel the tragic impact of Ivan's plight, but viewing the film in the context of a theater filled with people who had living memory of those dark, horrific years, and the deprivations they inflicted upon so many, certainly must have added to the the weight of that experience.
Ivan Bondarev, age somewhere between 10-12 years old as the Soviet Army makes its relentless but grueling advance toward Berlin, is his family's sole survivor after they were massacred by Nazi soldiers. That loss fuels his intense quest for revenge, the only purpose he can find in a life otherwise shattered by grief. His sole fulfillment during his waking hours is to involve himself however he can in activities aimed at thwarting and, if possible, destroying the army that took his parents' lives. Ivan's solace, the only relief he experiences from his grim quest, is found inadvertently through his dreams, several of which are presented to us on screen through Tarkovsky's vividly imaginative and exceptionally well-realized sequences that flow somewhat effortlessly from alertness to fatigued slumber and back to jarringly abrupt awakenings throughout the film. The idyllic atmosphere and reverential aura that his dreams cast upon his memories of family, of frolicking in nature and of playing with his friends are thrown at us in stark contrast to the brutal realities that the real world thrusts upon him: nights spent shivering in cold filthy swamps and days of hiding in decrepit bomb-blasted ruins, in the company of half-insane refugees even more confused and bewildered by the chaos of war than this still-unformed child who's adapted as best he can. This clip, the first ten minutes of Ivan's Childhood, introduces us to the strange beauty and haunting dread that infuse the boy's consciousness, whether he is awake or asleep:
Following on the heels of a succession of impressive and now-classic Soviet war films (The Cranes are Flying, Ballad of a Soldier, and others) that notably serve in various ways to advance the pacifist cause, Ivan's Childhood is now most frequently regarded as the impressive debut of Andrei Tarkovsky, whose subsequent achievements are of such magnitude that it's difficult to watch or write about this film without citing its foreshadowing of his trademark style and themes. However, this blog has a chronological theme, so I'm going to comment here upon as if I haven't already seen his follow-up Andrei Rublev (which I hope will receive its long-awaited blu-ray upgrade before I get to that point on my timeline) or Solaris, the sci-fi masterpiece that I think remains his most famous and frequently viewed film. What Tarkovsky accomplished here, after completing his formal education in cinematography and picking up the project as a replacement director under the auspices of state-controlled Mosfilm, was to demonstrate to himself and others that he did indeed "have it in (him) to be a director," as the Criterion DVD liner notes put it.
For me, and I suspect for most viewers, the highlights of the film are found in Tarkovsky's exploration of the corrupted but still magnificent natural environment - the hypnotic tranquility of birch forests scarred by trenches; the tranquility of fetid swamps, unfit for human occupation yet nevertheless strewn with barbed-wire and abandoned weapons; the smoldering debris and mud-tracked wreckage that stands in mute testimony to its previous existence as a bustling rustic village that once lived in harmony with its surroundings. There are still some missteps and diverting puzzles to be worked through - the Masha/Kholin romantic subplot seems more like a distraction that never finds resolution, though of course it does offer the consolation of that memorable embrace over the trench, where Masha passively endures an unwanted kiss, not daring to push back lest it antagonizes her would-be seducer toward rape. I can hardly fault Tarkovsky for filming and retaining the whole sequence, as it does add some narrative texture and diversity to the final production. Perhaps if he had directed this story later in his career, when he had greater freedom to extend the length of his films, he could have brought the subplot to a more memorable and satisfying conclusion.
And of course, we have the intensely gripping finale of Ivan's Childhood, two scenes that resolve Ivan's worldly fate, as we learn of his execution by Nazi's after his unseen capture during what turns out to be his final scouting mission, and serve as his spiritual epitaph, the post-mortem dream sequence that continues to resonate and serve as an influence on films as recent as Terence Malick's The Tree of Life. Particularly deserving of mention, Tarkovsky's bold use of historic archival footage from the Soviet invasion of Berlin includes a riveting display of corpses, most notoriously the family of Joseph Goebbels, as well as an examination of the mechanics of Nazi execution chambers. While not quite rising (mercifully) to the level of Alain Resnais' Night and Fog, the gruesome sequence crashes home the actuality of Ivan's story, mingling him as just one among countless thousands of young lives that, though anonymous and seemingly inconsequential to the larger machinations of history, still burned with an intensity, a passion and a focused determination that somehow eludes so many of us who have been privileged to live in uninterrupted and effortlessly received comfort and prosperity.
Next: Cleo from 5 to 7