Dersu Uzala is not just the quintessence of pristine cinema or a landmark in art cinema, but is also a living proof that brilliance can be achieved with absolute simplicity. Storytelling is undoubtedly one of the most potent tools known to man: from the Illiad and Odyssey of Homer to the tales of Jataka, to the 1001 nights of Arabia, to the tales of Panchatantra, to the plays of Shakespeare, man has always found ways to amuse himself by spinning the yarn of his imagination. These tales, though picturesque, fantastic and resplendent, mostly overlooked the potency of austerity vis-à-vis grandeur as an element of revelation powerful enough to transcend the effects of all other affects know to man. Only a handful of storytellers like Akira Kurosawa and Satyajit Ray have shown the grit and perspicacity to use simplicity as the weapon to incite and hence portray the deepest of the human emotions on the celluloid. Kurosawa demonstrated the might of simplicity as an element that can pack a punch for the first time in Ikiru and followed it up with an unending list of pristine cinematic masterpieces including Seven Samurai. But, even Kurosawa's greatest critic would not find it hard to concede that cinema does not get any purer than Dersu Uzala.

Dersu Uzala is a poignant tale of human bonding of trust, friendship and adoration between two contrasting individuals: a nomadic hunter and an army explorer. Captain Arseniev and his troops are on a topographic expedition and while camping during a night, they come across Dersu, who happens to be an aboriginal (Goldi) tribesman. Being fully aware of the handicap of being in a remote and tricky territory and of the indispensability of having an indigene in the ranks, Arseniev asks Dersu to be their guide. Dersu being humbled by Arseniev's courtesy obliges his offer almost immediately. We soon witness a great sense of camaraderie developing between the two of them as Dersu rises in status from being a comrade to a stalwart and a friend in the eyes of the captain. The long years of experience had equipped Dersu with a great sense of intuition and psychic-like abilities to anticipate change and danger. Dersu uses his skills to good effect as he maneuvers captain and his troops through the harsh Siberian terrain, sheltering and guarding them from the cruelties and wilderness of the Tundra. Behind the façade of a rugged hunter, we see a man of profound intellect and deep compassion in Dersu which is most conspicuous in his respect for the old Chinese and his selflessness in rescuing Captain Arseniev and one of his men. After the expedition is over, Arseniev embraces Dersu and bids him farewell as Dersu returns to the wilderness. Few years later, when Arseniev returns to Siberia on another expedition, he once again encounters Dersu, who again proves to be handy, only this time round he appears to be aging really fast as time, which can be a great healer as well as a great leveler, had begun to take a toll on the Goldi. His eyesight deteriorates under the superstitious effect of a self-imposed curse after having killed a Siberian tiger, which the Goldis worship, in an act of self-defence. Arseniev, in his pitied adoration for Dersu, takes him to the city to live with his family. Arseniev's son gets greatly attached to Dersu and his story-telling abilities, but Dersu finds it difficult to adapt to the relatively restricted and significantly tamed urban life and soon realizes that his life has been reduced to that of a captive. He implores the captain to let him return to the wilderness of the woods. With great reluctance, Arseniev grants him the permission to leave, but not before presenting his savior with a brand new rifle as a parting gift and a souvenir. Few months later, Arseniev receives a letter informing him that a dead body of a Goldi has been found with no identification on it barring Arseniev's visiting card. As Arseniev pays a visit to the place of burial, he identifies the dead Goldi to be none other than Dersu Uzala. The investigating officer speculates the Goldi's brand new rifle might have lured someone into killing him.

Dersu Uzala is not just a movie, but is an experience of a lifetime. Dersu Uzala is the only movie that Akira Kurosawa shot in a language other than Japanese and he proved it once and for all that cinema at its most pristine, knows no bounds or barriers. Kurosawa uses his auteurist mastery to bring the memoirs of Russian explorer, Vladimir Arsenyev to life as he inexplicably metamorphoses cinema to new levels of poignancy and pristineness. The cinematography is breathtakingly picturesque and it evokes a sense of melancholy that makes the majestic Siberian wilderness appear hypnotic and at times, surreal. The panoramic shot of Dersu and Arseniev looking at the horizon caparisoned with the juxtaposition of the setting sun and the rising moon is also indicative of their respective lives: Dersu is long past his prime and there is no hope for revival, but Arsieniev's is still in his prime and has a promising career ahead. Dersu Uzala is strongly suggestive of the sole consistency in human life: change. It also demonstrates the might of nature as an unforgiving force, strong enough to humble even the most savage of the creatures. Dersu Uzala can also be termed as an allegorical account of the environmental imbalance that unrestrained human intervention is causing.

Dersu Uzala, besides being one of Kurosawa's greatest masterpieces is one of those rare cinematic gems which can be relished again and again, each time with a completely different perspective. It's a must watch for everyone who loves and understands cinema. 10/10

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For a variety of reasons (that are well known in the darker period of the director's history at this time),Akira Kurosawa left Japan to make a film in Russia (Siberia to be exact). Instead of an epic action picture, he went to one of his other passions as a storyteller- the drama of pure humanity (like Ikiru and Red Beard, this film follows in that vein). The film runs two hours and twenty minutes, but it is a kind of epic story, that does have that pulse of adventure from his other films. But this time he combines that method of a big, spacious environment in the wild with a deep character study. His craftsmanship as a 'painter' of the frame is top-notch as always (all pretensions aside, he is one of the masters at finding the textures and moods in a scene's look as in its character and action),and the use of locations brings a quality that directors today would brush aside with via special and visual effects. Simply put, it is one of, if not the, ultimate testaments to man vs/with nature, with a character that remains one of the most memorable that Kurosawa's envisioned.

To give an idea of who Dersu Uzala is to someone who hasn't seen the film, picture Yoda without the ability to lift objects with his mind and to kick ass with a light-saber, but still contains all of the direct wisdom and strength that make him one with his surroundings (and, as well, uses his own kind of 'force' for knowledge and defense, and for attack as an ultimately final resort). As a lonesome hunter and drifter with a family tragically lost, Dersu comes upon a team of explorers led by Captain Aseniev (Yuri Solomon, not the best performance but sturdy enough to sustain the physical scenes). He goes along with them as a guide of the sights and smells and feelings that the others just can't sense (out of lack of experience). Aseniev and Dersu end up becoming friends as they brace a torrid windstorm over a bare, wintry landscape, as Kurosawa brings out one of his towering sequences (topping anything David Lean could've drummed up for sure).

It's always of interest to me to see characters doing things on screen, having to go against the elements that almost dwarf them in the face of nature (i.e. Cast Away's hour and a half second act). Dersu Uzala seems to be of few words and mostly actions, and soon gains respect and admiration after an odd introduction to the team- he shoots with a keener than keen eye, he spots tracks, he sets up protection in the harshest of conditions, and is always a step ahead of the pack. And bringing all this out is actor Maksim Munzuk, who appears here (like Falconetti in Passion of Joan of Arc) in the performance of a lifetime out of an otherwise obscure and small career. Munzuk never brings anything to Dersu that isn't in his character, and he makes at least a quarter of the film's success a reality (the other three-quarters could be attributed to Kurosawa alone). He can be tough, smart, funny (in an off-beat way),and if nothing else, humble. But more than anything, Munzuk makes Dersu seem alive in a way no other actor could've accomplished, and also brings out the better in Solomon's performance.

The story itself has a superb appeal most of the way, but it is in it's last act that 'Derzu Uzala' reaches an intensely tragic plane. Dersu does something (which I won't reveal here and has been discussed elsewhere on the message board) that brings great shame to his own self-worth. In this part of the film, Kurosawa brings out what can be said to be some of the saddest moments in any of his work, however not without logic. While it was likely a major dramatic function in the novel, Kurosawa doesn't just throw these last twenty minutes or so to let steam flow out of the picture. I sensed something almost cathartic about these scenes, that rose the qualities of the rest of the story to a higher level, to one of almost spiritual in nature. It's hard to really pin-point to one who has not seen the film (and, indeed, I have seen the film all of one time). But once its over, you may feel you have seen a work far more rewarding than imaginable- even in awe.

Akira Kurosawa was a masterful director and powerful storyteller, Dersu has always been my favourite of his films. It was also the first I saw - on Christmas Day afternoon 1978 on UK BBC2 - would that they were as adventurous nowadays! Since then of course I've seen all of his films from Stray Dog on, Rashomon and Ran being especial favourites, but I keep on coming back to watch this one, ostensibly the simplest tale Kurosawa ever filmed.

The understanding and bonding that develops between the two men Arseniev and Dersu is wonderful to see, and over two hours holds your attention with expertly observed minutiae of character and scenic interplay. The last ten minutes cover a lot of ground (no pun intended) but it's all so logical and sad that I always need to see the end credits to recover.

So many marvellous scenes: the tiger in the forest in the morning; the phlegmatic reclusive old Chinaman; the raft; wispy blue shaded smoke from night-fires; the conclusion of course; the view of those two great men, the Moon and the Sun in the same shot. Not everyone would like Dersu, their most likely comments being "boring" - but how wrong they are they'll never know!

A film not fit to lick Dersu Uzala's metaphorical boots (or even Plan 9 from Outer Space's for that matter),Blazing Saddles was filmed the same year in America and a generation on still gets more praise than this poetic masterpiece!