Russian Dressing
Main Cast: Omar Sharif, Julie Christie
Director: David Lean
I was up bright and early this morning for a walk along Iguazu falls, admiring the toucans in the wild. I reached the base of the falls here on the Brazilian side, looked up at the observation platform at the top of the falls on the Argentine side and saw that it was crowded with all of our carefully collected zombie hordes from the interior whom we were hoping to audition for features roles in Shuffle Along: The Walking Dead Musical. There had obviously been some sort of miscommunication as I was expecting them on my side of the falls. Perhaps we should not have sent their call notice in Portuguese as they might only be literate in Spanish. But I’m not sure if zombies can read at all – they don’t seem to have the best visual focus from what I could tell from working with a few of them on a pas de bourree. I could not be heard above the roar of the falls, even with my high belt voice, so I immediately began an interpretative dance which was to signal for them to remain there and I would join them shortly.
Alas, those closest to the rail took it as some sort of signal to join me so they clambered over the platform and began wading across the river. Unfortunately, the current was much too strong at the top of the falls and as each reached midstream, they were swept away and over the falls. The pounding of the waters and rocks did not do well by their already tenuous anatomy and soon a collection of rotting dismembered limbs was bouncing down the channel towards Paraguay. This was, of course, an absolute disaster in regard to my plans for having a functional zombie chorus line. I was simply devastated and had to retreat back to the hotel bar and down my sorrows in a succession of Pimm’s cups before telephoning my team in New York and letting them know that the project would need to be indefinitely postponed, at least until we could source an additional population of zombies with a modicum of song and dance talent. Joseph, my manager, was quite sympathetic and delivered a word of good news. Apparently, there are a large number of unexpected openings for bookings at the Kennedy Center coming up and I would be sure to be offered one. He suggested a one-woman cabaret might be just the thing. I’ll give it some thought.
Somehow the floors of the hotel had become somewhat uneven, but it was a bit difficult making it back to my room and I had to grab the banister, a maid’s cart, and a rather delicious looking bellboy in quick succession so as not to topple off my stilettos. I did finally make it back to bed and decided the best thing to do was to lay there unmoving for quite some time. I felt that a film would be in order so I looked at various streaming choices hoping for something rather long so it would be some hours before I might need to face the world. I was rewarded with David Lean’s 1965 film version of Doctor Zhivago, a sweeping epic of Revolutionary Russia starring Omar Sharif and Julie Christy. I had seen the film many years ago as a wee slip of a girl but could not remember all that much about it so decided to settle in. It may not be the best of the David Lean mid-century epics (that title would go to Lawrence of Arabia) but it’s still a jolly good film and holds up some sixty years later.
It is late 19th century Russia. Young Yuri Zhivago has been orphaned and is taken in by his wealthy aunt (Siobhan McKenna) and uncle (Ralph Richardson) to be raised in Moscow society, rapidly maturing into Omar Sharif where he becomes a medical student and then young doctor. People talk about his making a name for himself as a poet but we really don’t see much about this side of his personality. His cousin Tonya, with whom he is raised, grows up to be Geraldine Chaplin whom he promptly marries. His life soon becomes intertwined with the beautiful Lara (Julie Christy), daughter of a seamstress who is the mistress of the repulsive yet practical functionary Komarovsky (Rod Steiger).
Komarovsky decides he’d rather have the nubile daughter causing mama to attempt suicide which leads to a hush hush doctor visit. Lara, for her part, is in love with Pasha (Tom Courtenay), the young revolutionary who has fallen in with the Bolsheviks. World War I breaks across the Russian landscape, followed by the Russian Revolution. Yuri and Lara keep being thrown together beginning a tempestuous affair as our chief characters, joined by Yuri’s older enigmatic half brother Yevgraf (Alec Guinness), chase each other across half a continent against a background of trench warfare, Cossack charges, bombardments, ever changing seasons, and various personal betrayals. During all of this, Zhivago writes a series of poems dedicated to Lara which become quite famous and the two may or may not have had a daughter who may or may not have gotten lost in the various bombardments which led up to World War II.
Doctor Zhivago is a gorgeous film – Spain, Canada, and Finland stand in for Mother Russia with sweeping expanses of birch forest, snow covered mountains, fields of corn and daffodils. In the Moscow scenes, hundreds of extras become the glittering nobility at frolic, unaware that their society is about to collapse on their heads, or the starving mob demonstrating and being attacked. There is no CGI here. When hordes of people move across the screen, they’re all real. It must have taken an off-screen army of wardrobe and hair and makeup to bring it all to life. The makeup is, at times, a little too 1960s and not 1910-1925, especially around the women’s eyes, but that’s a small quibble. The vistas are helped by Maurice Jarre’s famous score, especially the balalaikas playing what became known as Lara’s theme.
The performances are quite good in the leading roles. In general, they are playing more archetypes than nuanced characters but that’s the nature of the beast. I have never read Boris Pasternak’s original novel upon which Doctor Zhivago is based to see if the characters are more finely honed on the page. Pasternak did win the Nobel Prize for literature the year after the novel was published (in Italy as the Russian’s would not touch it as the portrayal of the October Revolution is quite critical) but that may have been Europe snubbing Nikita Khruschev. Russia has since embraced the novel and its now part of the required high school curriculum. I suppose I better put it on my to-read list. Omar Sharif and Julie Christy were at the height of their attractiveness and make the illicit romance at the center of the story believable. The best performances, however, come from Tom Courtenay as the zealous Bolshevik and Rod Steiger as an uncompromising realist.
If you have never seen Doctor Zhivago, it’s definitely worth a look. Make sure you find Lean’s preferred 197-minute cut and not the 180-minute cut that was often shown on TV in the past. Those missing twenty minutes help keep the story straight. Also, like all of Lean’s work, it is best on the largest possible screen. It’s not a film to be enjoyed on your phone.
Purple coffin. Red evening dress. Inlaid balalaika. Multiple streetcars. Trampled peasants. Pink faux fur. Ice palace. Gratuitous Klaus Kinski. Dirty straw. Dam building. Dead teenagers.
Originally from Seattle Washington, land of mist, coffee and flying salmon, Mrs. Norman Maine sprang to life, full grown like Athena, from Andy’s head during a difficult period of life shortly after his relocation to Alabama.
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