"Nobody loves poetry like a Russian." - Doctor Zhivago

Directed by David Lean

U. K., 1965

192 minutes

First viewed: March 2012

Titular quote by: Alec Guinness as Yevgraf Andreyevich Zhivago

Clint Eastwood once said of Sergio Leone, “I think he idolized David Lean.”  Well, you know what?  I do too!

Lean was the epitome of the epic film director; his films have been sighted by countless directors and critics as being among the greatest cinematic achievements in history.  Most of all, however, along with The Bridge on the River Kwai and Lawrence of Arabia, his adaptation of Nobel Prize winner Boris Pasternak’s masterpiece novel constitutes his most popular works and, of those three, is his most accessible film.

Set against the turbulent backdrop of Imperial Russia from 1903 until the end of World War II, Zhivago is the story of an orphan who grows up to become a doctor in Moscow, but also retains a talent as a poet.  Also in Moscow during that time period, a teenage girl named Lara, who is studying at a girl's high school, but is ultimately taken possession of by the greedy lawyer Komarovsky.  When World War I and the Russian Revolution break out, Yuri and Lara's paths collide when they join the army's medical unit and thus begins their tragic affair that will outlast all their other relationships.

In a sharp turn from his role as Sherif Ali in Lawrence of Arabia, Omar Sharif plays the titular doctor in an incredibly understated performance which is characteristic of an observer more than a man of action; to be sure, understated in this role is perfectly acceptable and Sharif's Yuri is a genuinely kind and relatable protagonist.  His co-star, Julie Christie, is rather obviously older than seventeen in the role of Lara, but such age differences hardly mattered in 1965 and she grows very steadily and beautifully into the character.  These two characters are the driving force behind the film, and although the film's colossal production value and the supporting cast does occasionally outmatch them, their chemistry is truly captivating.

Among the supporting cast is a line up of truly remarkable stars; Zhivago’s cast may well be among the greatest ever assembled.  Rod Steiger has the showiest role as the lusty, manipulative Komarovsky, perhaps playing a little too showy and corrupt for his own good, but never to a point of outrightly cartoonish.  Meanwhile, Alec Guinness, a staple of Lean's filmography, is perfectly cast as Yuri's brother, Yevgraf, but his talent is ultimately wasted, with Lean turning him simply into a narrator and a cameo in two scenes; this partially explains why Guinness and Lean never joined up again until 1984's A Passage to India.  Geraldine Chaplin is simply lovely as Zhivago's wife, Tonya, but again, her character is left slightly by the wayside in favour of creating a tender ingenue-type to contrast the devastated and energetic Lara.  But, unquestionably, my favourite character has to be Pavel "Pasha" Antipov, the one character who goes through an obvious development; Tom Courtenay rightly deserved his nomination for Best Supporting Actor as the soulful idealist student turned cold communist by the knowledge of his wife's first affair.

Following on the success of Lawrence, Lean employed several of his former crew in the production of Zhivago.  Who, you might ask?  Well, practically everyone in the major departments!  Especially notable among these are three persons.  The invaluable Robert Bolt returned to write Zhivago's screenplay, one of the most elegant ever written; Bolt's dialogue feels as if it could have been composed by the doctor himself.  Freddie Young's elegant cinematography beautifully captures the grandiose landscapes and John Box's haunting art direction, notably the famous ice palace.  Finally, the ever beautiful theme tune by Maurice Jarre is absolutely mesmerizing. With all my talk about these subjects, it almost makes me rethink my goals and consider being a director of photography or composer... but not quite.

So, how could all the work of all these masterful artists possibly go wrong?  Well, from most critics perspectives, in terms of a story, it is slightly lacking.  In terms of critical reception, this is not Lean’s most popular work.  Upon its initial release, Zhivago was criticized for its emphasis on the novel's romantic content rather than its historical contents... um... Does the name Gone with the Wind mean anything to you?  It just seems an illegitimate argument when you consider how consistently that sort of shift in emphasis occurs.  Zhivago can easily be compared to Gone with the Wind in terms of its scope, character types, relation to a historical context, almost every aspect aside from the fact that I found Gone with the Wind much less captivating.   What I believe is that Lean's Zhivago is not so much a condemnation of history as a celebration of life, art and the complexity of love.   Lean and his crew are artists and this work celebrates the work of an artist.  How much of Pasternak's novel is really implemented into the film?  I don't know.  I have yet to read the novel - though I intend to - but for my money, Pasternak's disapproval of the Russian Revolution is very well balanced with Lean's vision.

Doctor Zhivago is continually cited by the older generations as being among their favourite films; now if only I knew more people of my generation who were able to appreciate its beauty, visually, narratively and romantically.  Admittedly, this is coming from a man who idolizes David Lean, but this is truly an epic romance to challenge.  Once they hear Lara's Lullaby, only the most cynical of viewers could possibly not wish to be lulled into its trance.  Zhivago is elegant, sweeping, melancholy, poetic and truly captivating.

And by the way, I am half Russian.

Star-rating: ********* out of **********

Final evaluation: Masterpiece