Once upon a Time in Mexico: How Eisenstein's "Ghost Movie" Found a New Sound

Sergei Eisenstein's unfinished film "Long Live Mexico!" was shown for the first time in Russia with a new live orchestral soundtrack. The film was shown in the Great Hall of the Conservatory, accompanied by a compilation of music from the Mexican classical, contemporary director Silvestre Revueltas. And the Mexican maestro Eduardo Garcia Barrios, who led the project on dubbing the tape, took over the conductor's desk. Izvestia appreciated the dialogue between the two national cultures.

The end of a movie or a movie without an end

Eisenstein, along with his constant collaborators, cameraman Eduard Tisset and assistant Grigory Alexandrov, worked on a film about Mexico in the early 1930s. The director sought to show the diversity of culture, traditions, mores, and social structures of this country through several short stories — cinematic "songs" that were supposed to form a "multicolored symphony film" (according to the author's definition). The concept dictated an innovative form that combines different genres: documentaries are combined with game scenes, event sequences with specific ones.

But the project could not be completed: firstly, the money ran out, and secondly, the Soviet authorities demanded the end of the group's protracted business trip, threatening otherwise to recognize the filmmakers as non-returnees. Moreover, the USSR did not want to buy back the footage. "He is considered a deserter who broke with his country," Stalin wrote about Eisenstein to the American film producer Upton Sinclair.

The director was forced to leave the negative abroad and, returning to Moscow, said goodbye to hopes of ever returning to this work. Sinclair allowed other filmmakers to use the material to recoup their costs, and since 1933, various films began to appear that used Eisenstein's shots, although they had a very indirect relationship to the author's idea. It was only in the late 1970s, when the USSR State Film Fund received the film, that Alexandrov prepared a version that was supposed to follow Sergei Mikhailovich's plan.

However, Alexandrov's own style is infinitely far from Eisenstein's. And although he was assisted in the editing by Esther Tobak, who worked on "Alexander Nevsky", "Bezhin Meadow" (destroyed) and "Ivan the Terrible", it turned out to be something much more ordinary, precisely in the manner of narration, reminiscent of educational documentaries on Soviet TV rather than the elastic emotional "cinematic speech" of Eisenstein.

The mute who spoke

Another problem is related to music. Since the silent film did not reach post-production, the soundtrack was not even worked on. Eisenstein assumed that Carlos Chavez could have been the composer, but all this remained at the level of reflection. In Alexandrov's version, Yuri Yakushev took over the sound part — it turned out to be something background and replete with cliches, in addition, weighted with a voiceover explaining the narration (the creator of "Funny Guys" and "Circus" generally believed that his mentor's avant-garde metaphorical film language would be incomprehensible to the Soviet audience without verbal comments).

And so, in Mexico, they decided to rectify the situation and select truly national orchestral music for a video series that so vividly tells about this country. However, it was not Chavez who was chosen, but another classic of the same period, Silvestre Revueltas, from whose opuses they made a compilation, superimposing it on video (something similar was done half a century earlier in the USSR with another Eisenstein tape, Battleship Potemkin, using Shostakovich's symphonies).

Eduardo Garcia Barrios, who is not only a famous conductor, but also a major statesman and coordinator of the National Council for Culture and Art of Mexico, was at the helm of the project. He first spoke about this work last year at a scientific conference at the Moscow Conservatory dedicated to the 100th anniversary of Eisenshain's film Battleship Potemkin. It is symbolic that the European premiere took place at the same institution and with its orchestra. The collaboration between the two countries, set by Sergey Mikhailovich almost 100 years ago, has been revived in a new form.

The sounds of bullfighting

The artistic result turned out to be vivid in every sense. Firstly, the tape lost the touch of educational television, which was so strong in Alexandrov. Secondly, the music, full of Mexican flavor, but at the same time complex, modernist in technique, rich in orchestral effects, enhanced the emotionality of many scenes and at the same time emphasized their ambiguity.

For example, the scene of a religious ceremony looks completely different now — the celebration of the 400th anniversary of the miraculous icon of the Blessed Virgin of Guadalupe. Footage of self-torture of penitents, ritual dancing and imitation of a procession to Golgotha are accompanied by a frenzied "shamanic" sound stream full of archaic energy (one can recall Stravinsky's "Sacred Spring" depicting "paintings of pagan Russia").

An equally bold decision was made in the bullfighting episode. Eisenstein captures the real event, showing not only bull bullying, but also the delight of the audience in the stands. Today, such a sight is shocking (during the screening at the conservatory, some even left the hall), but 100 years ago the perception was different: in Mexico in the 1930s, it was a celebration, a show, a vanity fair for overdressed townspeople, and a ritual recreating the primeval battle between man and beast. There could be passionate and solemn Spanish themes in the spirit of the fourth act of Bizet's Carmen. However, the gloomy, hidden music of Revueltas interprets what is happening on the screen differently: the execution of an animal turns out to be a harbinger of tragedy, which later (in the climactic novel of the film) will unfold with people.

Installation and attractions

In general, there are many successful solutions here. Some moments in the compilation reveal an amazing coincidence with the video sequence: in the frame there are ringing church bells, and the orchestra is ringing bells; on the screen there are beats on a huge tambourine, and a big drum sounds from the stage, exactly falling into rhythm. But the original scores were not created for the film at all. So it's not easy to find such a match.

But at the same time, the audio material clearly reveals the imperfections of the installation. Compared to Alexander's version, the Mexican one is longer, and it's not a fact that the painting benefited from it. But even if the Soviet version had been used, the feeling of contrast between convincing musical drama and unconvincing visual (with the genius of filming as such) would not have gone away. "Long live Mexico!" literally requires a montage reinvention. And, perhaps, it should be done just to the music, flexibly adjusting one to the other.

However, the current experience, which took place thanks to Eduardo Garcia Barrios, is certainly important for the full-fledged return of the film. And, perhaps, taking into account the Moscow premiere, it can be considered a kind of restoration of historical justice: once upon a time, the interaction of the two continents in an attempt to continue work on "Long live Mexico!" was unsuccessful. Today, despite all the circumstances, this dialogue turns out to be much more productive and positive. The Mexican guest was obviously pleased with him. Responding to the ovation of the conservative audience, the conductor exclaimed in farewell, paying tribute to Eisenstein and his homeland.: "Long live Russia!"