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For Aleksandr Sokurov, we might read Russia itself. Sokurov’s is a vast and still underexplored body of work: of the 58 directorial credits (features, shorts, documentary studies) amassed in a forty-year career, only six have so far made it into UK cinemas. Those films passing into wider circulation have tended to emerge grouped together, like confederating states: a di... [+]

For Aleksandr Sokurov, we might read Russia itself. Sokurov’s is a vast and still underexplored body of work: of the 58 directorial credits (features, shorts, documentary studies) amassed in a forty-year career, only six have so far made it into UK cinemas. Those films passing into wider circulation have tended to emerge grouped together, like confederating states: a diptych here, a tetralogy there. Even admirers would concede Sokurov’s fictional output, dense in allusion and rife with symbolism, requires this contextualisation: it isn’t just the stunning imagemaking that leads many to consider this filmmaker the rightful inheritor of the Tarkovsky legacy.

In the West, Sokurov first came to prominence with 1997’s Mother and Son and its 2003 sequel Father and Son: oft-wordless two-handers, apparently painted on canvas rather than celluloid, which rejected conventional narrative in favour of studying space and light, bodies, rest and motion. History would find its way into this heady high-cultural mix, as evidenced in a run of films dramatising pivotal moments in the lives of the 20th century’s foremost political figures. 1999’s Moloch joined Hitler in mid-war retreat in Bavaria; 2001’s Taurus co-starred Lenin and Stalin; 2005’s moving The Sun saw Emperor Hirohito attempting to surrender with dignity.

There were one-offs, too, showing filmmakers could still aspire to the artistry beloved of 60s/70s cinephiles. 2002’s Russian Ark was a dazzling display of cinematography and art history, offering in a single, unbroken shot a tour of St. Petersburg’s Hermitage Museum. 2007’s Alexandra traced a similar movement, with opera legend Galina Vishnevskaya embodying every mother who’s seen their son shipped off to die in war. Most recently, 2011’s operatic Faust adaptation passed from interiors to exteriors, merging classical and ultra-modern methodologies along the way: possessed of striking CGI and a ribald sense of humour, it’s as good a point of entry as any into this most revered and uncompromising of filmographies. [-]