Cities and Years: A Gritty Look at Loyalty in Revolution

So, Cities and Years. This one’s a journey, for sure. If you’re into the big, sweeping historical dramas, especially those from an earlier era of cinema, you might find something compelling here. But let’s be real, if you’re looking for fast-paced action or crisp modern dialogue, this silent film from 1930 will probably test your patience. It’s for the patient viewer, the history buff, or someone really curious about early Soviet filmmaking. Others? They’ll probably bail within the first twenty minutes. 🕰️

The movie drops us right into the chaos of post-Bolshevik Revolution Russia. It's a heavy time. We follow Andrey Startsev, played by Gennadiy Michurin, a young artist back from Germany. He wants to help the Reds, but his loyalties get tangled up pretty quickly.

It’s not just about the battle lines. It’s about people you knew. Friends. That’s the core of it. Andrey finds himself sympathetic to one acquaintance, Kurt, who’s actually helping the Whites. This creates a real knot, especially when another old friend, the rather intense Rodion, starts breathing down his neck, accusing him of treachery. It’s all very tense.

Michurin as Andrey carries a lot on his face. You see the conflict there, the exhaustion. He’s not a firebrand; he’s someone caught between ideals and personal connections. There’s a scene early on, or maybe it was midway, where he just stares out a window. It goes on a bit. Not much happens. But you feel his dilemma, the weight of everything. It’s not flashy, but it sticks with you.

The film doesn't shy away from showing the grim realities of the time. The sense of a world turned upside down is palpable. There are these wide shots of crowds, you know, people just milling about, and it somehow conveys more than a thousand lines of dialogue ever could. A city in turmoil. But sometimes, these crowd scenes, they feel a little... thin? Like the budget ran out for extras. Or maybe it’s supposed to feel that way, reflecting the emptiness left by war. 🤔

One thing that truly stands out is the way the film uses visuals to tell the story. Being a silent film, it has to. There’s a particular sequence where different faces flash across the screen, almost like a montage of conflicting emotions. It’s quick, jarring even. And then it cuts back to Andrey, looking even more burdened. That bit was pretty effective, I thought.

And Rodion. Man, this guy is a piece of work. He’s the true believer, the zealous one. He doesn’t understand shades of gray. For him, you’re either with us or against us. His scenes with Andrey are always charged. There’s this one close-up of his eyes, all narrowed, when he’s questioning Andrey. It’s a classic silent film villain look, but it works here. He’s not just a bad guy; he’s convinced he’s right, and that’s almost scarier.

The pacing, for a modern viewer, can feel a bit sluggish in spots. There are moments that stretch out, letting the emotion sink in, or sometimes, just letting you notice the dust motes in the light. It's not a narrative that rushes. It breathes, then it holds its breath. You can almost feel the movie trying to convince you this particular moment matters, even when it’s just a character walking slowly down a hallway. But then, you get these sudden, sharp cuts. It’s a bit unpredictable, which is nice.

It’s interesting how director Yevgeni Chervyakov (who also acts in it, by the way, he plays Rodion!) manages to keep the focus on the personal stakes amidst such a huge historical backdrop. The revolution isn’t just a concept; it’s something tearing these specific friendships apart. The film gets noticeably better once it stops trying to explain everything and just lets the characters live through it.

Don't go into this expecting a straightforward adventure. It’s more of a mood piece, a reflection on loyalty and ideals caught in a grinder. The ending, without giving anything away, really hits that note hard. It leaves you thinking, which is more than I can say for a lot of movies these days. 💭

Did I notice anything specific?

• The intertitles are sometimes quite poetic, other times just direct. A mix.
• There’s a scene with a train that felt very symbolic, rumbling forward no matter what.
• Some of the outdoor shots are gorgeous, even for a film this old. The light is just right.
• Andrey’s expressions really sell his internal struggle. His face does a lot of the heavy lifting.
• The way the White and Red forces are visually distinguished is pretty clear, but subtle enough not to be cartoonish.

Overall, if you’re up for a slower burn and a glimpse into a pivotal historical period through a very personal lens, give it a shot. Just remember, it’s a silent film. Adjust your expectations accordingly. You might be surprised. I know I was, a little. 👍