Edgar Cochran ✝️🍋’s review published on Letterboxd:
*Twitch Redeem by Seventh_Persona.*
***One of the best 150 films I have ever seen.***
The second best film of the 1990s.
It's a common preconception, perhaps an unconscious bias in some, definitely a conscious one in several, that the 90s cannot replicate the narrative, technical and aesthetic perfection of the best decade in cinema, the 1960s. The 1970s proceeded with seldom transgressive experimentation, alarming censors and raising the curiosity of moviegoers to expand the creative medium through purposeful utilization of graphic violence.
That is until one stumbles, unprepared and without prior warning, with ironically underseen juggernaut projects of admirable proportions like Damianos' The Charioteer (1995). For sheer "coincidence" (I have never believed in coincidences), Damianos' groundbreaking and landmark swan song is separated in two very distinctive chapters in which the former acts as the background catalyst for the latter, for the sake of analyzing the impact of history in modernity from a more significant reflective standpoint while dissecting the human essence, physical and spiritual, in perfectly distinguishable layers.
Amirkulov's teams with notorious auteur Aleksey German to conceive this masterful epic that replicates, purposefully and tangentially:
-Tarkovsky's spiritual exploration dissonantly contrasted with the self-destruction of human nature and ancient warfare
-The medieval battlefields of medieval Eisenstein
-The open western fields, choreography and cavalry of John Wayne
-The dramatic and sometimes theatrical storytelling and epicness of Kurosawa's Macbeth adaptation, Mifune's evolving archetype into a more dominant expert or leader, and his staggering battle setpieces of the 1980s
-Żuławski's ferocity expressed through hyperkinetic psychological madness and crucifixion allegories and false Messiah's
-Jakubisko's unparalleled capacity to tell parallel storylines regarding a centerpiece subject matter
-Vlácil's visual poetry and the violent mass tragedies of religious fundamentalisms
So, purposefully and/or tangentially, this film can be seen as a mixture of Andrei Rublev, Marketa Lazarova, Alexander Nevsky, Ivan the Terrible I & II, The Searchers, Throne of Blood, Red Beard, Kagemusha, Ran, On the Silver Globe, and The Deserter and the Nomads.
Throw in some anger of Ken Russell's The Devils (1971) for some good ultraviolent measure.
Way too much to handle for a director? Of course it is!!! What in the world are you talking about??? And yet, few people in the first half of the 1990s saw the birth of one of the best films ever made, The Fall of Otrar, miraculously balancing all of these elements in a soul-arresting and historically staggering masterpiece. The story recounts the struggle and astonishing resistance of the city of Otrar against the invading forces of Gengis Khan during the 13th Century after a Korezhm spy, Unzhukhan, returns to his Kipchak tribe to warn Shah Mukkhamed, the ruler of the Muslim state of Khorezm, and Kairkhan, the ruler of Otrar, that Gengis Khan has decided to withdraw his armies from China against Khorezm. After his allegiance is brutally tested, the film shifts to Mukkhamed's decision to undertake the Baghdad campaign and the subsequent notorious battle of Otrar.
Every technical aspect is pushed to perfection, and then some more. Tonalities shift from tinted shades, to stark black and white, with counted instances of full color, to further accentuate claustrophobia, agony or epic action setpieces that reject the entertainment angle and go for the jugular as portraying war as a showcase of unspeakable horrors, including torture and psychological terror (a particular tongue scene will remind you of Pasolini's most infamous piece). Camera moves according to the set-piece, Tarkovsly-like when it is introspective and reflective, Zulawski-like when when it portrays psychological claustrophobia as something maddening, or Kurosawa and Ford-like when it comes to depicting large-scale events. Performances are brutal and the figure of Gengis Khan is among the top 10 intimidating figures I have ever seen in the history of cinema. It is a dream that reveals it is not when the harshness of humanity pursuing irrational "unification" ambitions strikes you in the face with extremely graphic content and insane stunt work (it is obvious that animals gor injured, unfortunately, during the making of this film, exactly as with Tarkovsky's first epic). The stuntwork is intimidating and required little editing to reach Griffith-like magnitudes.
In short, it is a reminder not only that the 1960s was the best decade for cinema and the spark that ignited the powder of future decades, but also that any era can replicate the best cinema ever made.
If you have ever, at least thrice, believed and confirmed my words, go watch this and have your easiest 5-star decision in a long time.
100/100