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There are some great opening shots, with the famous stairs scene starting at ~ 5 min mark.
The film won the Golden Palm (Palm d'Or) at Cannes.Wow! The stair scene long take from 3:56-5:18 is beautiful blocking and composition (location, too!). Then the stair climbing at 5:18 is incredible- multiple 360's as the crane ascends??? ...
CHAPTER 1. Never Talk with Strangers
At the hour of the hot spring sunset two citizens appeared at the
Patriarch's Ponds. One of them, approximately forty years old, dressed in a
grey summer suit, was short, dark-haired, plump, bald, and carried his
respectable fedora hat in his hand. His neatly shaven face was adorned with
black horn-rimmed glasses of a supernatural size. The other, a
broad-shouldered young man with tousled reddish hair, his checkered cap
cocked back on his head, was wearing a cowboy shirt, wrinkled white trousers
and black sneakers.
The first was none other than Mikhail Alexandrovich Berlioz, [2] editor
of a fat literary journal and chairman of the board of one of the major
Moscow literary associations, called Massolit [3] for short, and his young
companion was the poet Ivan Nikolayevich Ponyrev, who wrote under the
pseudonym of Homeless. [4]
Once in the shade of the barely greening lindens, the writers dashed
first thing to a brightly painted stand with the sign: `Beer and Soft
Drinks.'
Ah, yes, note must be made of the first oddity of this dreadful May
evening. There was not a single person to be seen, not only by the stand,
but also along the whole walk parallel to Malaya Bronnaya Street. At that
hour when it seemed no longer possible to breathe, when the sun, having
scorched Moscow, was collapsing in a dry haze somewhere beyond Sadovoye
Ring, no one came under the lindens, no one sat on a bench, the walk was
empty.
'Give us seltzer,' Berlioz asked.
'There is no seltzer,' the woman in the stand said, and for some reason
became offended.
'Is there beer?' Homeless inquired in a rasping voice.
`Beer'll be delivered towards evening,' the woman replied.
'Then what is there?' asked Berlioz.
'Apricot soda, only warm,' said the woman.
'Well, let's have it, let's have it! ...'
The soda produced an abundance of yellow foam, and the air began to
smell of a barber-shop. Having finished drinking, the writers immediately
started to hiccup, paid, and sat down on a bench face to the pond and back
to Bronnaya.
Here the second oddity occurred, touching Berlioz alone. He suddenly
stopped hiccupping, his heart gave a thump and dropped away somewhere for an
instant, then came back, but with a blunt needle lodged in it. Besides that,
Berlioz was gripped by fear, groundless, yet so strong that he wanted to
flee the Ponds at once without looking back.
Berlioz looked around in anguish, not understanding what had frightened
him. He paled, wiped his forehead with a handkerchief, thought:
"What's the matter with me? This has never happened before. My heart's
acting up... I'm overworked... Maybe it's time to send it all to the devil
and go to Kislovodsk...'[5]
And here the sweltering air thickened before him, and a transparent
citizen of the strangest appearance wove himself out of it. A peaked
jockey's cap on his little head, a short checkered jacket also made of air.
... A citizen seven feet tall, but narrow in the shoulders,
unbelievably thin, and, kindly note, with a jeering physiognomy.
The life of Berlioz had taken such a course that he was unaccustomed to
extraordinary phenomena. Turning paler still, he goggled his eyes and
thought in consternation:
'This can't be! ...'
But, alas, it was, and the long, see-through citizen was swaying before
him to the left and to the right without touching the ground.
Here terror took such possession of Berlioz that he shut his eyes. When
he opened them again, he saw that it was all over, the phantasm had
dissolved, the checkered one had vanished, and with that the blunt needle
had popped out of his heart.
Has anyone seen Sampo (1959), AKA, The Day the Earth Froze? I'm kind of interested in seeing it, as I'm part Finnish, but I only speak english, and read rather slowly, and subsequently don't do well with subtitles.
I thought it was in Russian, guess I remembered that incorrectly.
So, since this is a new year - happy New Year, everyone - it's time to bring out the most popular romcom in the history of the USSR. "The Irony of fate or have a nice steam" was made in 1975 and premiered on January, 1st, 1976.
The events in the film involve the New Year as well, as they take place on December 31/January 1 and are (kind of) based on a real precedent - a drunk guest at a New Year party in Moscow was deposited on a train - some say it was accidental, some say it was a prank - and woke up the following morning somewhere near Kiev. Since the movie became hugely popular upon its release, it was repeatedly broadcast on the Soviet and then Russian TV for the last 45 years every New Years day. Those who have seen it all these times, remember every line. Film's actors hate it for the typecasting. Others hate it for other reasons. I linked it to a Soviet Immigrant Facebook group and got 22 likes (which is a relatively high number). I got also a few likes on my own page. And a few "I hate it" comments from a female friend.
Anyhow, this is the film (with official English subtitles) on Mosfilm's YouTube channel.
Its English Wikipedia page (it gives away the plot).
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Irony_of_Fate
PS. I first found it online on the New Year's eve 2007/2008, sent the links to my American friends who liked it a whole lot. Others thought that it lags in spots.
The blissful political incorrectness of Soviet comedies, by R. J. Markowski, The Critic, 7 March 2021. "Churchill famously called Russia 'a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma'. Watching these films and others like them, you feel some of the riddle solved. In their private lives --- what the Soviets relished, laughed over, played at, longed for and drew the deepest satisfaction from --- they were that most unimaginable thing of all. They were just like us."
That's true all along history, even to this very day.…
… "--- they were that most unimaginable thing of all. They were just like us."
…
PS. Of course, the Soviets were humans and the Americans are humans. But there are still huge cultural and ideological gaps to overcome.