What is it, where is it, how will it affect me? The following of one woman's struggle against Tsarist rule during the Russian Revolution of 1905. Мать, the pristine and devastating silent early work of the bustling mid-1920s Soviet Propaganda film industry, is a triumph on many levels. The ethos surrounding films like it of that certain age and origin: Eisenstein and his similar other Godly directors, is heavily scholarly, intellectual and time-dedicated, so to analyse Мать inside out really is well and truly beyond the amateur's concern to be a condescending writer. But, to be realistic, it's a naïve disgrace to formality if a list doesn't feature one of them on it. Vsevolod Pudovkin, a less known director of the decade's masterminds yet still heralded as a legend by his cult following for his innovative and often deeply personal practice, directs my personal, instinctive pick. Voted by an international panel of critics at the Brussel's World Fair as the 6th greatest film made up until the fateful judging day in 1958, it often loses limelight to the likes of Eisenstein's courageous, raw, untamed Battleship Potemkin and Dovzhenko's calmer, traditionally beautiful social study Earth. Мать, of course in its silent wisdom, force-feeds a supremely strong and vivid depiction of an individual struggle in a time of social instability. Whereas most works of the 1920s Soviet silent era focus on crowd mentality: whereby the struggle is depicted more of a Bayeux Tapestry of confusion and oppression, Pudovkin's take is lovely to see, and from the first few bold moments of Мать, we are introduced to our refreshingly small circle of main characters: a father, a mother, and a son. Few members of the audience will fail to identify with one person in such a configuration, as the aged camera-work of Мать still, after the prestigious test of time, provides a frame, a view to look in at each of the unique yet interconnected struggles of each family member. Мать evolves as clear as crystal before the eyes of any human of any outlook, a living and breathing piece of powerful, political art into a devastating slow riot for a new zero nation. As the realistic violence and suppression of the down-trodden progresses, a timeless and formulaic asset of the kind of film Мать must somewhat conform to be, there's something that smells a bit different in the air. We're always reminded of the maternal bond, its strength and power to drive a soul to unbearable torment, and how such a regime that these films fabricate propaganda against can directly sever it. This link that Мать explores is so volatile and hard-hitting to the blissful maximum extent that the limited medium of the silent, the black and white and that, again, time- honoured formula of the day can allow it to. Pudovkin's abilities with his 1926 sublime masterpiece generate an overwhelming empathy, giving the audience the completely, totally exclusive opportunity to visualise a fresh revolution through the eyes of those who are the most fragile and at risk emotionally from it.

Soviet filmmaker Vsevolod Pudovkin had produced a number of short films displaying his adapt handling from the teachings Moscow Film School instructor Lev Kuleshov on the messaging of montage editing. In 1926, Pudovkin embarked on reworking Maxim Gorky's 1906 novel, 'The Mother,' to illustrate the heroics of a mother whose son joins factory strikers in the face of brutal Tsarist troops. The October 1926 "Mother" proved to be one of cinema's most visible example of using editing techniques to fully explain the inner motivations of individual characters. Pudovkin's work departed from his film colleagues who implemented the montage to illustrate just the surface incidents leading up to the 1917 Russian Revolution.

When "Mother" kicked into high gear with action, Pudovkin implemented super-quick edits to portray the shown events as chaotic. He didn't waste even a nano-second of empty framing to lengthen these scenes. "Whenever we noticed some dead place at the edge of a shot," Pudovkin related, "we would eliminate it, to have nothing useless or superfluous in the composition." Fellow Soviet filmmaker Sergei Eisenstein noticed Pudovkin's focus on the individual, how the characters changed within the fluid social revolution. "He puts real living men in the center of his work," described Eisenstein. "His films act directly through their emotional power."

The Mother, Pelageya Vlasova (Vera Baranovskaya),is Pudovkin's focal point; she loses her abusive husband to a revolutionist who accidentally shoots him. Shortly afterwards, she turns in her son, who is storing arms for the rebels, thinking he'll rethink his position and eventually side with the Tsarist government. Her plan doesn't work-he receives a harsh life sentence of hard labor. He escapes from prison by crossing an ice-flow river, reminiscent of D. W. Griffith's 1920 "Way Down East's" exciting conclusion. While all this action unfolds on the screen, Pudovkin uses his lessons from Griffith to cross-cut his montage sequences with shots of a calming nature, ice flows, and the concluding calvary charge, among other scenes.

Camara positioning was equally important to Pudovkin as his editing. To show the transformation of the Mother, he initially positions the camera high looking downwards to show an oppressed, humiliated wife in the face of her aggressive husband psychologically dragging her down. Towards the finale, the director does the opposite with the camera as she gains awareness to her self and Russia's political ramifications: he positions it low looking up towards the confident and inspired Mother who faces an onrushing horde of Tsarist calvary.

During the filming, actor Nikolai Batalove, as The Mother's son, refused to walk on the ice flows in the dramatic escape sequence. Mikhail Dollar, Pudovkin's assistant director, took the clothes from the actor and proceeded to step confidently on the flows, capturing the heart-pounding athletic feat on film. Dollar was also instrumental in creating the factory crowd frantic scene where the mounted police were overrunning the strikers. At first the 700 extras looked lethargic as they ran down the street. Dollar and Pudovkin decided to turn around the two horses they were riding and gallop just out of frame against the throng of extras. The members of the crowd didn't hesitate to run for their lives, turning into a stampede of people, just as Pudovkin had scripted.

"The Mother" is the first in what later critics labeled Pudovkin's revolutionary trilogy. In the next two years the director proceeded to produce two additional classics along the lines of this classic film debut.

In wintry 1905 Russia, "Mother" Vera Baranovskaya (as the Mother) toils over housework, while son Nikolai Batalov (as the Son) sleeps. Hard-working husband and father Aleksandr Chistyakov (as the Father) arrives home to drunkenly slap his wife around. In the opening minutes, these three characters are clearly drawn. The younger man represents collective (striking) workers while his father sides with the (oppressive) establishment. "Mother" Russia must balance love and duty. Her final decision should come as no surprise. This film highly regarded but sometimes difficult to follow. Director Vsevolod Pudovkin moves the story effectively, with quick shots. This should help you stick with it for the excellent final thirty minutes.

******* Mat (10/11/26) Vsevolod Pudovkin ~ Vera Baranovskaya, Nikolai Batalov, Aleksandr Chistyakov, Ivan Koval-Samborsky