Summary
Like a spectral newsreel hurled through time, Vzyatie Zimnego dvortsa detonates the Winter Palace on 25 October 1917 into a feverish phantasmagoria: a single, continuous cinematic assault where 1,500 Petrograd extras—soldiers, sailors, factory women—clamber over baroque balconies, bayonets glinting under klieg-light muzzle-flash, while chandeliers sway like decapitated constellations. Derzhavin’s camera, drunk on kerosene and futurist adrenaline, rides the shoulders of the proletariat as they surge through gilded corridors, their boots smashing parquet roses once reserved for tsars. The film has no protagonists, only vectors of velocity: faces dissolve into smoke, slogans splinter into celluloid glyphs, history itself becomes a stampede. Eisenstein will later mythologise these hours; here they are raw, unstaged, a celluloid riot breathing soot and snow.
Synopsis
Director
Konstantin Derzhavin, Nicolas Evreinoff, Alexander Kugel
Deep Analysis
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