The movie, which is in black and white during the prologue and seven chapters, bursts into color for the epilogue. This eight minutes of footage shows some of Rublev’s surviving works, and Tarkovsky moves the camera slowly over them, so we see them mostly as a sequence of details. The work that looks most striking on a television screen is Christ in Majesty with its red, blue, and gold colors. However, the most famous work shown is The Old Testament Trinity, which depicts three angels of equal size sitting around a small table, upon which there is a cup containing the head of a calf. Although this icon is based loosely on a story in Genesis 18, the three figures represent God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit, and the painting was intended to capture the idea of the unity of the Holy Trinity.
It’s my understanding that historians know very little about the life of Andrei Rublev, and Tarkovsky evidently simply invented the incidents depicted in the film. I don’t believe Tarkovsky was particularly interested in historical accuracy anyway; instead he wanted to explore the relationship between an artist and the bleak, harsh society he lived in. It seems to me the movie was intended to be a statement about Andrei Tarkovsky living in the Soviet Union as much as it was about Andrei Rublev living in medieval Russia. The film’s title in Russian translates into English as The Passion According to Andrei, and it’s interesting to contemplate whether here the name Andrei refers to Tarkovsky or to Rublev or to both.
In terms of narrative structure, I believe Andrei Rublev is the most unconventional film biography I’ve ever seen. The title character is either absent or peripheral for long periods of time, while incidental characters are often extremely important. Between chapters there are sometimes big gaps in time, during which we have no knowledge of what has happened. Most chapters begin with such abruptness that we can’t tell where we are or how we got there. But I think if you’re willing to give up the notion you’ve absorbed from watching Hollywood biopics that everything has to be spelled out in traditional literary terms, the emotional connections you’ll experience while watching Andrei Rublev will make the film quite compelling. It seems to me that Tarkovsky’s unusual narrative structure helps to communicate the idea that Rublev is involved in a quest for meaning in a badly fragmented society, where there is almost no sense of community.
In terms of visual style, Andrei Rublev is stunning by any standard. Tarkovsky is a genius at slowly moving the camera over arrangements of people, landscapes, and buildings to create a mood. For example, I get an eerie feeling in the chapter "The Holiday" when I watch naked pagans carrying torches run through a foggy forest and wade into a river, where they conduct a strange ceremony. For another example, I get a sense of something mystical going on in the chapter "Theophanes the Greek" when a procession reenacting the Crucifixion walks over an area where the ground exposed by melting snow somehow brings to mind blood. As a third example, in the chapter "The Raid" I get a sense of foreboding as I look at the sea of faces of terrified people inside the cathedral as they wait for the Tatars to batter down the door.
Andrei Rublev is a complex film, and its somber tone and graphic violence are hard to take at times. Yet its stark beauty and resonant images make it well worth the effort. I think that Andrei Rublev is one of the greatest films ever made, and I highly recommend it to anyone who is serious about cinema.
Selected Special Features on the Criterion Collection DVD:
Formats Available: The above information refers to the DVD; this film is also available on VHS.
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