Nostalghia (Andrey Tarkovsky, 1983)

I’ve been quite fascinated with the idea of being in a foreign country and strongly missing your home country. There is something peaceful about that idea, and could lead to many interesting themes. In Nostalghia, a Russian is staying in Italia while missing his home back in Russia. Of course, this is the kind of thing that Tarkovsky does very well, he has similar ideas in many of his other films, such as Solaris (1972) where the protagonist misses his home, or Stalker (1979) where the Stalker misses something else than the dreary urban landscape he lives in, and yearns for something better. And indeed, Nostalghia doesn’t miss its mark.

As always, the cinematography in Tarkovsky’s films is fascinating, to say the least, and this might yet be the most beautifully shot film I’ve seen by him. The colour, the black and white, the monochrome, it is all very beautiful, and his shots evoke so much emotion and ideas that it is astounding. There are several visual elements that echo Stalker; one of the most profound is an image of a dog, which reminds me of a similar shot from Stalker. Much like Tarkovsky’s other films, but even more here, the film is drenched in water. The walls and ground is soaked, mist hangs in the air and there are plenty of water pools. As well, it rains inside, something we also saw in Stalker and Solaris. But the films highlight is its pacing. This is probably the best pacing Tarkovsky has managed to create in any of his films, and it is quite hypnotic. The long takes, the slow pans and tracks, it all evokes a feeling of timelessness, like being lost in a dream. The film is shot in both colour and black & white, however, the colours are toned down to such an extent that it is at times close to looking like black & white. This further works to create the hypnotic effect. Like much of Tarkovsky, the film walks the line between real and dream. The shots of homeland Russia are noteworthy impressive, most of them shot in slow motion, but less than normal slow motion, meaning that it takes some time before the viewer realizes it is slow motion, but can still sense something else, something intangible, about the images. In many ways, Tarkovsky’s films are intangible, but that is one of the undeniable charms of his films, and makes them unique pieces of cinema and confirms him as one of the masters of the craft.

There are a lot of images and physical objects that makes appearances in almost all of Tarkovsky’s films. Like the bed the protagonist sleeps on in Nostalghia, an almost identical bed is seen in both Stalker and Zerkalo (1975). Or milk, which is a prominent image in the aforementioned films and Andrei Rublev (1966). These images creates an interesting continuity in all of Tarkovsky’s films, which makes them interesting to see as experienced audiences can recognise these recurring images. These images also have certain meaning to them, but as Tarkovsky pointed out himself, these meanings are individual to each audience who sees his films and evokes something different in everyone. His images aren’t symbols, because he didn’t create them with a specific meaning, or, they did mean something specific to him, but he created them on screen in such a way that everyone can respond to these images on their own, instead of interpreting what the director is “trying to say”. For me, this gives Tarkovsky’s films a special reverberation with me, because I as an audience can take what I interpret from the images. One does not need to create an elaborate meaning of what each image “means”. This is very open ended directing, and within the film allows the audience to have a conversation with Tarkovsky, although he is usually hard to get at some points. Still, the film is simple and beautiful in its images and themes, and the hypnotic pacing allows much room for reflection. Indeed, this isn’t one of Tarkovsky’s best, but I still haven’t seen a film by him that wasn’t really good, so it doesn’t say much. The film borders on being a masterpiece, and I think it will reward being watched again.

A wonderful exercise in filmmaking power from Tarkovsky. The films pace and cinematography remain the most crucial aspects to the films success, and the images are able to evoke strong emotions and reflection. Pure cinema, in many ways. Tarkovsky continues to impress, and this film stands as the most reflective and “pure” that I have seen by him.