Doctor Zhivago
Last night, I fulfilled a lifelong desire to see David Lean’s 1965 romantic masterpiece Doctor Zhivago on a big screen. This truly magnificent film has been reissued in a stunning new print and before I say anything else, I urge anyone who gets the chance to make a point of seeing this limited re-release at the cinema.
For those unfamiliar with the plot, Doctor Zhivago is an adaptation of Boris Pasternak’s controversial novel set before, during and after the Russian revolution. Yuri Zhivago (Omar Sharif) is an orphan adopted by a rich family in Moscow. He writes poetry, but is a doctor by profession. He marries Tonya (Geraldine Chaplin), the daughter of his adopted parents, but once the turmoil of revolution plunges the nation into chaos, he meets the mysterious, beautiful Lara (Julie Christie), and they soon fall in love.
This is one of those films that there really ought to be a law against watching on television. Cinemas were invented for experiences like this and regardless of how many surround sound/big television screen gimmicks on offer, there is nothing to beat sitting in a darkened cinema and being totally absorbed in the epic Siberian landscapes or the meticulously recreated pre-revolutionary Moscow (an astonishing set constructed in an era long before CGI provided shortcuts in epic filmmaking).
But it isn’t just the huge epic scenes that command greater attention on a big screen. The details of the brilliant performances are enhanced by added size. Omar Sharif’s melancholy, slightly detached air expertly conveys the turmoil of a character who is an observer of life, but also a deeply humane, passionate man desperately trying to survive intolerable times. The supporting roles are equally excellent. Alec Guinness is brilliant as ever as Yuri’s half brother Yevgraf, who narrates the story. Ralph Richardson and Siobahn McKenna are both very good as Yuri’s adoptive parents. Tom Courtenay plays committed but largely unsympathetic revolutionary Pasha superbly. Elsewhere, Geraldine Chaplin (Charlie Chaplin’s daughter) is terrific as perfect wife Tonya, whose dignity and goodness ensures that audiences share Zhivago’s anguish at being in love with two women. Rod Steiger’s wonderfully odious Komarovsky is also hugely memorable.
But the film really belongs to Julie Christie, whose outstanding performance as Lara remains the highlight of her career. Throughout her journey from abused teenager to war nurse, revolutionary wife, and finally Yuri’s lover, she remains always sympathetic yet hauntingly enigmatic. Her final exchanges of dialogue with Yuri (“Wouldn’t it have been lovely if we’d met before?”) are among the most brilliantly understated and heartbreaking in cinema history, thanks to Robert Bolt’s superb screenplay.
Speaking of the screenplay, Bolt and Lean insisted on not making Zhivago a political story, which proved a very wise choice. It is, above all, a human story. There is no editorialising, and the cruel, harrowing events depicted throughout speak for themselves, since they are caused by foolish and inhumane authoritarian ideologies (whether left or right wing).
On a technical level, everything from the crisp editing to the innovative use of sound, visual effects, art direction and breathtaking cinematography remains absolutely inspired. Maurice Jarre’s exceptional Oscar winning music score is the icing on the cake. The instantly recognisable “Lara theme” in particular, often played on the balalaika, is as stirring as ever. Only the occasional 1960’s hairdo among female characters dates the film.
I first saw Doctor Zhivago on television when I was about eight and two things in particular made a profound and lasting impression. First and foremost, David Lean’s extraordinary vision completely blew me away. The sheer brilliance of the greatest British director of all time operating at the peak of his powers had me spellbound, and much of its unique imagery would haunt my consciousness for years to come – from the ice covered house surrounded by the sounds of howling wolves to the accidental massacre of children in the cornfields.
The second thing Doctor Zhivago did was present compelling characters that I came to feel sorry for even though they were committing adultery. Yuri ends up in the horrible position of being in love with two women. He loves his wife and family, but also loves Lara. To this day, its one of very few films where I can fully understand and sympathise with (if not condone) the affairs of the main characters, which makes the inevitable tragedy all the more compelling. As with all good tragedies, the audience knows it will end badly from the beginning (the film is one huge flashback). However, when I was eight, I had never seen a movie with a sad ending, and the devastating finale left me utterly emotionally drained. As the credits rolled, I vowed to watch every other film David Lean had directed.
Shortly afterwards I discovered Great Expectations, Brief Encounter, The Bridge on the River Kwai, Lawrence of Arabia, and the other David Lean greats, but I always maintained my soft spot for Doctor Zhivago – a proper old school romantic epic. Sadly, we’re unlikely to ever see its kind again, so I will conclude by reiterating my original exhortation and urge everyone in the strongest possible terms to go and see this film. Even if you’ve watched it on television countless times, seeing it at the cinema is like seeing it for the first time.
Simon Dillon, August 2008.
