Moloch (2005)

by | Jul 16, 2005 | DVD & Blu-ray Video Reviews | 0 comments

Moloch (2005)

Directed by Aleksandr Sokurov
Studio: Celluloid Dreams/Koch Lorber Films
Video: 1.66:1, full screen
Audio: Dolby Digital stereo
Language: German
Subtitles: English
Extras: The Making of Moloch; Interview with the Director; Theatrical trailer
Length: 108 minutes
Rating: ***

Well, Ingmar Bergman loved this feature, saying it breaks all rules on
all levels. I suppose you could accurately say that. It broke the rule
of keeping me interested, for one thing. Sokurov shoot much of it in
the actual fortress of Hitler’s former retreat in the Bavarian
Alps.  Eva Braun (played by Elena Rufanova) is at center, caught
up in the complexities and absurdities of a man incapable of real human
intimacy. The story covers a single day as Hitler and his entourage
arrive at the retreat, where Eva has been hanging out in the nude and
waving to distant soldiers observing her in their binoculars. There is
plenty of fog and Wagner of course on the soundtrack.  (Eva can’t
stand Wagner and prefers military marches to exercise by.)  The
visit, a dinner, a turgid scene in Eva’s bedroom with Hitler, and a
short excursion into the countryside is the whole of the film. Leonid
Mosgovoi is sometimes jovial and sometiomes harsh in his protrayal of
the dictator. Eva seems to be the only one who contradicts Hitler’s
absurd racial ideas and generalizations.

Very slow, very grainy, very trying. This is the same director who did
Russian Ark. He obviously possesses a great deal more patience than do
I. The whole thing strikes me as a very understandable view of Hitler
from a Russian proletarian viewpoint, especially considering the Second
World War!  But it’s not a Western viewpoint. All of Hitler’s
entourage are pictured as odd sycophants. The actors are good and the
stereo sound appears to have been recorded live during the filming –
voices echoing in the great halls of the castle. Your mind may be
echoing in your brain by the end of this disturbing sleeper.

– John Sunier