Thehibikiew Not even bad in a good way

Taraparain Tells a fascinating and unsettling true story, and does so well, without pretending to have all the answers.

Senteur As somebody who had not heard any of this before, it became a curious phenomenon to sit and watch a film and slowly have the realities begin to click into place.

Hadrina The movie's neither hopeful in contrived ways, nor hopeless in different contrived ways. Somehow it manages to be wonderful

Joe M Shepitko's The Ascent portrays the literal and metaphorical journey of two Russian soldiers deep into enemy territory and into the depths of their consciences. Sent to find food for a hungry division of partisan soldiers fighting Germans in Belarus during World War II, Sotnikov and Rybak make their way across a wintry landscape, attempting to evade German squads. The film was made in 1977, but is filmed in stark black and white. This format, in coordination with the bleak snow-covered landscape, makes the beginning of the film almost completely two-tone: black soldiers on white snow. The motion of the camera complements this with shots that call attention to the contrast between white and black, an unmistakable symbolism that refers to several dichotomies represented by the two principal characters. Throughout the beginning, Sotnikov is sick, marking him immediately and physically as different from Rybak, who selfishly tells him he never should have come. The differences between the two men only grow when, while fleeing German troops, Sotnikov is shot in the leg, spilling dark blood onto the white snow. It is almost as if all darkness leaves him, then, an idea reinforced as Rybak drags him into the woods, covering him in snow and rendering him completely white. The moral purity that distinguishes Sotnikov from Rybak becomes more apparent from this point on, after which the film also largely abandons the black-and-white motif–its symbolic work being done–in favor of shades of gray. These seem to represent the varying degrees of truth and betrayal demonstrated by the new characters who are introduced, from the innocent mother who houses the soldiers to the headman who worked for the Germans for fear of his life: light collides with dark.Upon their eventual discovery by German troops, the two partisans face very different interrogations. Unwilling to betray his cause, Sotnikov reveals no information and withstands terrible torture, whereas Rybak proves immediately pliant and even jumps at the opportunity to join the German police in exchange for his life. The illness, wounding, and torture that bring Sotnikov ever closer to death reinforce his inner need to be true to himself and his cause, a need that leads him even to attempt self-sacrifice to save the prisoners who are condemned to be hanged with him, giving him a Jesus-like aura as he is led up a hill to his death. Unlike the pure Sotnikov, Rybak betrays his cause and himself by joining the Germans rather than face the death his ostensible convictions would earn him, earning jeers as a "Judas," from the Belorussian villagers. In the last shot, with a final scream, Rybak realizes that–in the culmination of Shepitko's incredible journey through the visual–he truly is the black to Sotnikov's white, completely incapable of holding true to himself, unable to muster the will to escape the Germans who have fomented his betrayal by either committing suicide or running away through even an open gate. All of this internal struggle, revelation, and symbolism is built slowly and brilliantly up by the director from the mere initial binary of black and white.

MartinHafer This is an interesting film that might come as a bit of a surprise to Western audiences not familiar with the Russian Front during WWII (referred to by the Russians as 'The Great Patriotic War'). As a retired history teacher, I had no trouble following the film--some folks might need a bit of background information.When the Germans invaded the USSR in 1941, many Soviet citizens joined the Nazis. Their life under Stalinism was terrible--in particular for the Ukrainian farmers. Little did they know that the Germans would be more brutal and savage than the Soviet government. Surprisingly, some of these anti-communist volunteers became every bit as brutal (or more so) as their new German allies. Regardless, people within the USSR began fighting against each other--and loyalty to the nation or to self is a major focus of the latter portion of this movie."The Ascent" starts in the woods during winter. A group of partisans (freedom fighters not part of the regular Russian army--in other words, volunteers who took to the woods to fight the German invaders) is hungry. So, two volunteers go in search of food--and try to avoid the Germans. Soon it becomes clear that one of them isn't as strong as the other. This school teacher seems quite game but not as hardy as the other guy. Eventually, they are both captured and it's not the Germans who torture and interrogate them but some of their own countrymen. How will each of these men respond and who is actually the strongest? Overall, this is not exactly a pleasant film. It's actually pretty depressing. But you can't make a fun or nice film about WWII--particularly set in the USSR! So, provided you are willing to see a rather downbeat film, you'll be rewarded by an interesting tale about inner strength and loyalty. In addition, the cinematography is very nice--especially since the film was made in harsh winter conditions. Worth seeing.By the way, the film's director (Shepitko) was born in the Ukraine--and this must have made this a very personal and moving statement.

adipocea If you have a chance, see this Russian(how should I call them: gems, masterpieces,hidden treasures?), war movies like this one, or The dawns here are quiet, or Proverka na dorogah... And , right after that, watch again the American war movies, or the international productions, those one with the allies and the Germans,etc. Or, even worse, watch the Italian war movies. Everything from the west will seem shallow, contrived, ridiculous, in comparison with the Russian movies. I am sooooo stunned by the quality of the aforementioned Russian war movies that I cannot find the words to praise enough their shattering superiority over Anglo-Saxon war movies.

ackstasis It comes as no surprise that Larisa Shepitko was married to Elem Klimov, who would later direct the most harrowing war film ever made, 'Come and See (1985).' 'The Ascent (1977)' – Shepikto's final completed film before a premature death – is built in very much the same mould. Set during WWII, the film follows a pair of Soviet partisans who try to secure food for their starving army while evading the occupying German forces. The first forty minutes are agonisingly tense, as the two men drag themselves though the harsh, snow-covered landscape, the world around them completely sapped of life, warmth and colour (indeed, so monotonously drab is the scenery that it literally took me this long to realise that the film was shot in black-and-white).Following the partisans' capture by German soldiers, the film becomes a cold meditation on loyalty and morality. Whereas Sotnikov (Boris Plotnikov) refuses to betray his army, even under extreme duress, the less resolute Ryback (Vladimir Gostyukhin) attempts to save himself. Is he wrong to do so? Ryback's betrayal is disheartening, but the film doesn't immediately condemn his actions are treacherous; instead, the viewer is forced to consider what their own response might be in such a situation. Shepitko pities Ryback as the Bible pities Judas. Both men betrayed their allies to the enemy, and were forced to watch them executed. However, whereas Judas committed suicide by hanging (at least according to Gospel of Matthew), Ryback finds even that option closed to him – in an excruciatingly taut climax, the belt around his neck becomes unfastened.'The Ascent' draws its emotional power from Shepitko's astonishing pursuit of realism. I have no doubt that the two principal actors spent days on end clambering across the snow-covered earth on their hands and knees, and, indeed, so convincing is their misery that I actually developed a cold while watching the film (seriously, I did). Interestingly, the film interjects on this reality on several occasions, as Ryback imagines himself making a bid for freedom, and then being gunned down by his German captors. This device, though unusual, works well with its Biblical allegory; Ryback is facing a trial of his worthiness, and, faced with a new dilemma at every turn, he consistently chooses the selfish alternative, his own life the only deciding criteria. At film's end, he is still alive, but the nightmare of war and guilt persists.