Andrei Tarkovsky’s THE SACRIFICE – The Blu Review

Review by Roger Carpenter

Widely considered the greatest Russian director since Eisenstein, Andrei Tarkovsky’s relatively brief career as a director produced several classics of world cinema such as Andrei Rublev, Solaris, Stalker, Nostalghia, and his final film, The Sacrifice.  By the time of The Sacrifice, Tarkovsky was a living legend, having won Venice’s Golden Lion and Cannes’ FIPRESCI four times, the Prize of the Ecumenical Jury three times, and the Special Grand Prix twice.  No less a filmmaker than Ingmar Bergman considered Tarkovsky the world’s greatest filmmaker.

The Sacrifice was made during a challenging time for Tarkovsky.  After Communist censors shut production on a different film down in 1979, he left the USSR for Sweden where he publicly swore to never make a film in the Motherland again.  For revenge, the USSR kept Tarkovsky’s young son from traveling to Europe.  He spent long amounts of time away from his wife during the making of his last two features, and was diagnosed with cancer during the filming of The Sacrifice.  Too sick to complete editing, he entrusted others with this duty, and too sick to travel, he could not accept his awards at Cannes that year.  He died shortly after the release of the film.

Tarkovsky was known to explore religion and faith, and do so with uncommonly long takes; The Sacrifice holds true on both accounts.  The opening shot is a full 10 minutes long, with other shots as long as six minutes.  In total there are only 115 separate shots in the film, when a typical feature-length film could have up to 1,000.  And The Sacrifice is 146 minutes long, unlike typical features of the day.

All these long shots create a very slow-moving film.  Patience is a word frequently used in reviews for the film.  Some might characterize the pace of the film as glacial, though connoisseurs of cinema would tell you the payoff is worth the time invested.  Personally, I found the film a bit slow, but always interesting.

Alexander (one of Bergman’s favorites, Erland Josephson) has lost focus in his life.  He lives in an isolated estate on an isolated island in Sweden with his wife, children, and housemaid.  His daughter is high-strung and his wife is intolerable in her need to nitpick everything—and is also having an affair with Alexander’s therapist, who comes to visit the house regularly.  His son, known only as “Little Man,” has had a recent throat surgery so has been rendered mute until healing occurs, and his only true friend, his therapist, has just announced he is moving to Australia, because he is, frankly, tired of Alexander’s neediness.  Needless to say, things are pretty bleak.

But today is Alexander’s birthday, so everyone has gathered to celebrate the patriarch’s auspicious day with a feast.  But as that feast is being prepared civilization descends into World War III—and possible Armageddon.  Facing potential annihilation and overcome with fright, Alexander, who has never been terribly religious, pledges all his worldly possessions, including his house, to God if He will but spare the world.

But complicating this simple act of Christian prayer is Alexander’s visit to Maria, long thought to be the village witch.  It seems his postman, Otto, believes that sleeping with a witch may grant one’s wish.  Distraught enough to try anything, Alexander pays a visit to the witch, begging her to save the world while they have sex.

The next morning when Alexander awakes, everything seems normal.  Yet Alexander is determined to keep his vow to God.  So he tricks his family and friends into taking a walk while he goes about preparing to destroy all of their worldly goods.  Once they realize the gravity of the situation, the family comes racing back.   Alexander is taken away in an ambulance but the world is saved.  Bookending the beginning of the film with Alexander’s admission of a “nonexistent” relationship with God, Little Man speaks his first words at the end of the film: “In the beginning was the Word.  Why is that, Papa?”

Shot by famed Bergman cinematographer Sven Nykvist, the film is filled with gorgeous Baltic scenery: endless fields of gold and icy blue waters.  And though the viewer notes these colors easily, Nykvist and Tarkovsky have gone to great lengths to limit the palette of the film.  While the trees and flowers are in full bloom, the colors remind one of a late autumn instead of the height of summer.  Inside, the house is dark, with plenty of browns and grays.  It’s as if Tarkovsky wanted the viewer to see the world through the jaded eyes of Alexander.

While religion is a central theme, it also becomes problematic as Alexander resorts first to God, then to a supposed witch.  But as Alexander and Maria are coupled together, they levitate from the bed, thereby lending an air of credibility to the pagan concept.  So, in the end, the viewer isn’t left so much with answers as with questions.  Was God the deity that stopped the war, or was it truly witchcraft?  If not God, then witchcraft?  What does that say about Christianity?  Or, as some have suggested, is the levitation just the imagination of Alexander in the throes of ecstasy?  This doesn’t ring true because we are implicit in the act—we have seen the levitation.

Of course, Tarkovsky doesn’t want to give us easy resolutions.  Even the ending is obtuse. Where does the ambulance come from so quickly, and how was it raised?  Why did it seemingly come for Alexander, and who made the call?  What of the family, now homeless and seemingly destitute?  Perhaps this ending signifies a new beginning for all: “In the beginning was the Word.”

The Sacrifice seems to gain more credibility as the years pass.  Tarkovsky fans would steer the neophyte cinephile from this film as a first viewing of the director, opting for one of Tarkovsky’s more prestigious pictures.  And for those viewers who enjoy a steady diet of Hollywood fast food, it will take patience and thought to last through this one.  But fans of world cinema will be happy with this uncut 4K restoration of the film on Blu-ray.

Kino Lorber not only includes the uncut version in a gorgeous 4K restoration, but the film includes a lengthy interview with editor of The Sacrifice, Michal Leszczylowski, about his experiences with Tarkovsky while working on the film.  An audio commentary is also included, but I found it a bit too academic for my taste.  Finally, on a separate standard disc is Leszczylowski’s full-length feature documentary, Directed by Andrei Tarkovsky, which documents the making of the film The Sacrifice.  Lastly, there is a lengthy booklet included in the package with an essay by film scholar Robert Bird as well as excerpts from Tarkovsky’s own diaries.

For lovers of global arthouse cinema, this is a can’t-miss set.  You can purchase this set directly from Kino Lorber at kinolorber.com or through Amazon.