Written and directed by Sergei Eisenstein
Sergei Eisenstein’s Alexander Nevsky has a clear message (beat the Germans), a clear story (beat the old Germans), clear characterization (our hero will beat the old Germans), and a clear parting sentiment (together, we can beat the Germans). A set-in-stone piece of pre-WWII propaganda, it’s also a sparkling piece of filmmaking, innovative, striking to look at, and a technical wonder. Propaganda used to be a proper product. All we have now are tweets, podcasts, and AI-generated drivel.
It’s medieval times in Russia, where its people are still mending after fighting the Swedes. Folks welcome peacetime with open arms, fatigued with bloodshed and looking to settle down. Sew and harvest. Start families. The Teutonic Knights of the Roman Empire, with their Catholic religion, have other plans, crusading in and threatening to overwhelm the spread-out city states.
Russia must unify itself if it is to survive. Can a hastily assembled force of weary warriors and farmers stand up to the rested, fired-up, better-equipped invading force? What kind of man can rally Russia behind him? What can he summon from this group of proud and stolid people who are on the backfoot?
An epic of sacrifice, resilience, and fortitude, the technical triumph of Alexander Nevsky matches the wartime triumph of its protagonist. Directing at scale with the strength of a general, and composing with the eye of a painter, Eisenstein has the crowds of hundreds of extras arranged with exacting detail, making them almost works of art themselves, and in a movie built to lionize the all-overcoming power of the collective, Eisenstein elevates it all by uniting form and function.
Choruses featuring men and women swell to do the talking for an otherwise stoic people, putting music to a mentality that sees everyone, man or woman, keen to take arms and accepted when doing so. Manufacturers offer their goods for free in support of the war effort, depicting a world where the havers are merely holders for the common good. A woman says she’ll choose between her suitors based on who fights the hardest for Mother Russia. Enemies are depicted in their helmets, faceless machines of war, while smiles and frowns are explored in the faces of Russians.
As Nevsky, Nikolay Cherkasov’s broad brow and open face are a cliff from which he proclaims outcomes as facts. When he prophesizes victory, it isn’t to rile a mob up beyond their ability, it’s recognizing a feat he knows his people are capable of. Taken together, the visual shorthand and the written text, Eisenstein’s script is simple, to the point, and clean. It’s like the best set of bullet points ever put on celluloid.
The text of Alexander Nevsky does have a limit to its excellence, as there are limits to how much you can enjoy the reductionist treatment propaganda reserves for characters and outcomes. Eistenstein’s movie endures through its filmmaking, its spectacles, and the beauty of its cinematography: A sea of torches above which an ancient bell summons a people to war, the shimmering vision of an onrushing horde in the distance, the idyllic bliss of fishermen, strung out on a line, fishing in collaboration. In three frames, Eisenstein captures patriotic passion, the fever of war, and the heartland, and with Alexander Nevsky, he draws the blueprint on which movies like Star Wars, Gladiator, and The Lord of the Rings are built.
Mikkel Frederiksen 