I read a lot
generic mircette Sergei Eisenstein's last completed film still looks like an astonishing anomaly when compared with the films that were coming out of the US and the UK in the mid-1940s. Though made with sound, the aesthetic is that of the silent age, with Eisenstein shooting in extreme close-up and using actors caked with make-up. The sets, too, recall The Cabinet of Dr Caligari, with scenes in shadowy throne rooms and chambers that, at times, seem to be simply dug into the walls. Given Eisenstein's past mastery of montage, however, the most extraordinary thing is how much he relies on his performers: there's a theatricality that brings to mind Powell and Pressburger's Tales of Hoffmann.