freedom without freedom
by Douglas Messerli
Yuri Klepikov and Larissa Shepitko
(screenplay, based on a novel by Vasil Bykov), Larissa Shepitko (director) Восхождение (Voskhozhdeniye)
(The Ascent) / 1977
Larrissa Shepitko’s 1977 film, The Ascent begins with the punctuated
crack of gun fire between a group of Russian partisans and a Nazi death squad,
and ends in a mad cackle of laughter by one of the work’s major figures. In
between Shepitko paints a terribly bleak but visually beautiful landscape of
woods and snow of Belorussia.
As they attempt to make their way back to the woods where their unit awaits them, they are again spotted by a roving German unit. Rybak, despite his burden of the lamb, makes it to the woods, but the weaker Sotnikov is shot and wounded in his leg. Trapped in the open, he attempts to shoot the approaching Germans, but finally, points the gun at himself, so that if they come to get him, they cannot capture him alive.
At the last moment, Rybak returns and in a stunningly dramatic tussle
with body and nature, pulls Sotnikov to safety. The director follows this with
a long scene in which Rybak—about to leave the near frozen Sotnikov in order to
find a place of safety—reveals through tender hugs and kisses, his brotherly
love for his fellow soldier, promising to return for him. This beautiful scene
is both chaste and slightly homoerotic, an astounding mixture of pure human
love that is seldom expressed in such a genre.
Rybak spots a small cabin nearby and drags his friend into it. But
there, surprisingly, they discover three small children waiting for the return
of their mother. When the mother, Demchikha (Lyudmila Polyakova) returns she is
angry and defensive for their intrusion, fearful of the results; but when she
perceives that Sotnikov is wounded, she grows more sympathetic. At almost the
same moment, however, a jitney of Nazi soldiers arrives, on the lookout for the
two Russian partisans. Apparently their leader has previously had sex with Demchikha
and stolen her pig, as he again forces his way into the cabin. Hiding out in
the attic, the Russians are forced to watch what will surely be a gang rape,
until Sotnikov, who has been coughing up blood for some time, can no longer
control his silence. The soldiers are discovered and, along with Demchikha are
carted away, the three children left behind to starve.
And as the group, beginning with the tortured and dying Sotnikov, begin to be interrogated by a Nazi interrogator, Portnov (Anatoli Solonitsyn), we suddenly begin to see this formerly weak ex-math teacher become incredibly strong, a least with regard to his inner conscience. Refusing to answer any of the interrogator’s question, even taunting him, Sotnikov quickly grows in stature before our eyes. If Rybak seemed to be the hero of the previous scenes, we now rethink our perceptions of this man of loyalty and faith. Despite his condition, he even endures the torture of a branding iron in the form of a Russian star imposed across his chest.
When Rybak is called by the interrogator, by contrast, he answers most
of his questions straight-forwardly. Although refusing to give out information
on the whereabouts of his unit, he nonetheless seems almost ready to
collaborate, particularly with Portnov offers the possibility that he might
make a good German policeman.
When morning arrives, his confession does not work on the cynical Nazis,
but Rybak’s acceptance of Portnov’s offer, frees him, while the others are
taken out to be hung, Rybak steadying Sotnikov as he stands on the box which,
when kicked away, ends his life.
The “holy” ones are all hung, Rybak congratulated for being a “good
rabbit.” As the headman’s wife passes the Russian soldier, she hisses what we
have now known for some time: “Judas, Judas, Judas!”
The German soldiers turn to celebrate their dinner, Rybak entering an
outhouse, where he attempts twice to hang himself by his belt. He fails.
Called in to join the others, Rybak perceives that the camp gate has
been left open, the cold snow of freedom beckoning him. Might he run? He begins
to laugh, painfully and madly laughing because he now knows that for him there
no longer is any freedom possible.
Los Angeles, New Year’s Eve, 2013
Reprinted from International Cinema Review (January 2013).
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