Russian Ark

This 2002 work by Aleksandr Sokurov is scene as an important work in modern cinema. Formally fascinating, it doesn't hugely stir the emotions but is charming, brings the audience along, and is a wonderful piece of Euro-Russian meditation.
The great formal excitement is the fact that it is filmed in one, ninety minute long shot. This is, of course, utterly sensational. It leaves one constantly to wonder; how on earth did they do that? Fit through that space? Leave no traces of their working? Of course it was all major preplanning, but the real joy of the technqiue comes in the beautiful simplicity of the solutions. The master of moving elegance of camera in small spaces is 'La Regled De Jeu', and this work has the Renoir-esque ability to cut the Gordian knot of problems with wonderful sweeps.
The technique is succesful in two more direct effects it has on the audience; firstly, it quite literally creates a great sense of momentum, we are almost literally swept along. Secondly, it means we have a great sense of the subjectivity of the camera operator, the mumbling low monologue is given a weight, hardcore identification means we have an altered view of the other characters than a third person perspective would have had.
As for what happens, our French diplomat, and indeed what the hell is going on, remains opaque. One does not really learn a huge amount about Russian history, but one has a real sense of the atmosphere of the situation. The slow death of a society (of one particular one, the film gives us one period in time predominantly), a sense of grandeur and of slow melancholy.
So, beyond the ingenuity with putting lights in clever places, this film also has a great final philosophy. That final shot is really marvellous, an unexplainable imaginatory image. Not the most powerful film ever, but fascinating, an intelligent, quiet cry.