Jake McDonald

New Directions in Russian Cinema

Professor Gillespie

March 1, 2004

Prisoner of the Mountain Review

Although Sergei Bodrov’s film Prisoner of the Mountain contains countless positive attributes, a glimpse at the beauty of the picture can be seen through a few examples. Music, cinematography, location, story, and editing all contribute to this masterfully constructed film by providing contrast, a visual representation of imprisonment, and forshadowing.

The film is essentially a look at war through the interactions of its different characters. A Chechen village is seen through the eyes of two Russian prisoners, while good and evil becomes evident on both sides. Skillfully, Bodrov uses this premise and his filmmaking talents to portray a unique perspective on war.

Music is used as a powerful tool of contrast in Prisoner of the Mountain. A prominent example of this is the use of a patriotic Russian military song at the beginning and end of the film. The first appearance of the song is followed by the image of naked and nameless recruits being led around like sheep. In a dark, almost humorous way, this song that seems to hint at a glorious and brave Russian military is juxtaposed with the reality of a very dark and glamour-free army. Likewise, a contrast is seen as Russian helicopters attack the small Chechen village while the same song plays. Given the image of the helicopters and the sounds of the marching band, this final scene seems to glorify the attack, however, within the context of the film the scene creates a sense of irony since the helicopters are killing children and innocent villagers. By contrasting the idea of a glorious and proud Russian military with a more realistic view of it, Bodrov creates musical irony that finds faults in the Russian army.

In between the two aforementioned scenes lies a breathtaking view of the world. Bodrov amplifies the message of his film with some creative use of cinematography and locations. Through these techniques, mountains become prison bars for Sasha and Vanya. Even as they sit at the top of the village, an area that might connote freedom in another movie, the two prisoners are shown against mountains that dwarf and encompass them. Similarly, as Sasha and Vanya try to run from their captors, they are caught in a valley, once again surrounded by mountains. With lower camera angles and wide shots showing the locations, Bodrov perfectly captures this effect. Only when Abdul takes Vanya over a mountain does Sanya become free. Interestingly, as Sasha becomes free, the mountains are seen as imprisoning the villagers, keeping them from escaping the oncoming helicopters.

Binding all of these aspects together is the brilliant construction of Prisoner of the Mountains. There is not a wasted scene in the film. The camera never lingers too long, characters never talk too much, and there is enough content to warrant repeat viewings. Yet the film doesn’t move too fast either, it is not hard to follow even with the language barrier. This construction seems to stem from the story and is enhanced by the editing. An example of this is the way in which the major events of the film are foreshadowed. Vanya shooting up a house early in the film prepares the viewer for his violence later in the picture. The Russian commander consoling Vanya’s mother seems to hint at the helicopter attack that ends the film. Countless other examples of foreshadowing add depth to the film and allow it surprise the viewer without losing believability.

In combination with superb acting, dialogue, and lighting, these strengths of Bodrov’s picture make it a great film. Whether or not you agree with its tone or peaceful message, Prisoner of the Mountains says some important things in a very powerful and skillful way.