An Interview with Russian Filmmaker Karen Shakhnazarov
by Dominique Arel, filmfestivals.com

Veteran Russian helmer Karen Shakhnazarov competed at the Montreal World Film Festival with A Rider Named Death (Vsadnik po imeni smert), a film based on the literary memoirs of socialist revolutionary Boris Savinkov at the turn of the past century, just prior to the 1905 Revolution. In a sad coincidence, the film received its international premiere at the festival the day hundreds of hostages were massacred in Russian Northern Ossetia, on September 3, 2004. Filmfestivals.com had a conversation with Shakhnazarov shortly thereafter.

One would think that the Chechnya-related recurring acts of terrorism inspired you to tackle such a critical topic for our contemporary world.

It certainly played a role, of course, but this wasn't the main reason. Savinkov was a very important figure, not only in Russia, but throughout Europe as well. He was of a rare breed: a terrorist who was able to tell his story with literary skills. [The film is based on his novel "Pale Horse"].

The film revolves around the attempt by Savinkov-or rather of his cell of four revolutionaries-to assassinate the Grand Duke of Russia Sergei Aleksandrovich. But his motives are far from clear and he seems to be losing himself towards the end.

What I am trying to explore in the film is the psychology of people who become terrorists. The four main characters [members of the cell] all came with different motives. Erna [a female bomb-maker enamored of Savinkov] was desperate for love. Vanya [a character of student-age who has the greatest qualms about killing children as "collateral damage"] is burning with a sense of religious martyrdom. He is ready to give his life for the utopian purity of justice, equality, and freedom. Fyodor [of working-class background] is driven by revenge. Savinkov's impulse is far more complex. He initially saw terror as an act of individual self-determination, the ultimate power that an individual can exercise against the state. Yet his tragedy, as a political actor, is that, by the time the movie starts, he came to lose track of the final aim and not to believe in anything [to the point of eventually committing an act of killing no longer condoned by the revolutionary organization-the "Fighting Organization"-to which he belongs]. This is often typical of terrorists. Terror itself, at some point, becomes more important than the purpose for which it is perpetrated.

In the film, and in history, Savinkov was after the Grand Duke, not the Tsar. How important a political figure was the Grand Duke at that time?

The Grand Duke was the Tsar's uncle and also the Governor (general gubernator) of Moscow. In contemporary politics, it would be like attempting to kill a Mayor of Moscow who would also be a close cousin of President Putin! The assassination of the Grand Duke at a Moscow Opera in 1904 was the boldest act of terrorism ever committed on European soil.

As depicted in the film, the assassination of the Grand Duke, with Savinkov essentially walking in an out of the Duke's opera box, with no policemen around, could seem implausible to modern audiencesŠ [The assassination, however, followed failed attempts in public locations, painstakingly reconstituted in the film]

The security of public figures, as we know it now, did not exist then. High officials were far more accessible in public, to an extent that is hard to believe. The opera scene depicted in the film is real, even though it is based on another stunning political assassination-that of Prime Minister Stolypin in 1911. [In real life, Savinkov killed the Duke by exploding a bomb] More generally, Europeans had a liberty of movement in public spaces that we can't imagine today. In his memoirs, Savinkov relates how, fleeing Russia without a valid passport, he was allowed to Sweden with a student ID! To imagine something like happening today would be absurd. And the Erna bomb-maker was routinely ordering dynamite from abroad, since it wasn't available in Russia, while telling custom officials that the packages contained some beauty cream. This was a different era.

The film is technically very impressive. Old Moscow was entirely recreated in studio, unbeknownst the naked eye, and the quality of the lensing is one that could only be expected from a co-production in the 1990s. One could say that A Rider Named Death, besides its artistic and political import, acts as a calling card for what Russian cinema can achieve today.

The film was shot entirely in the Mosfilm studio. Shooting on location was not an option, as Old Moscow no longer exists, and with the kind of traffic we are experiencing nowadays, refurbishing an existing neighborhood would be a nightmare. After a difficult time in the 1990s, Mosfilm is back on its feet. It is actually the only studio in the world that offers all services related to filmmaking, from pre- to post-production. One third of the financing from the film actually came from the profits we are generating at the studio, one third from private investment, and one third from state agencies. The product is thus entirely homegrown. And profitable. The film made $2 million at the box office this summer-quite respectable by Russian standards, despite the ubiquity of pirated DVDs-and with TV sales we will easily recoup its $3 million budget.

You are wearing the hat of head of Mosfilm studio. Remarkably, you have managed to remain productive as a filmmaker, despite these crushing administrative responsibilities. [Shakhnazarov made Poisons, or the World History of Poisoning in 2001-also shown at the Montreal fest. His film career began in 1979]. How do you cope?

As a studio head, the best way for me to find out what is going on in my studio, and what is really needed, is to make films myself!

Can we read Chechnya into the film?

Only to the extent that it makes us reflect on the psychology of terrorists. Savinkov's is the history of someone who lost his ultimate aim. It is very difficult to believe that the gruesome terrorist acts we are seeing in Russia can achieve anything for those who are committing them.

Dominique Arel
Photo by Bryan Hastings.