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Apr 29, 2019 Web Exclusive By Austin Trunick

In the cold, early months of 1953, a military surgeon, General Yuri Klensky (Yuri Tsurilo) is arrested as part of the terrible, anti-Semitic “Doctor’s Plot:” a round-up of Jewish doctors under the false accusation they intended to assassinate Soviet officials. After his spirit is crushed through utter humiliation and violation, he finds himself suddenly summoned to the bedside of the dying Joseph Stalin with a desperate hope that his skills may be able to save the Soviet leader before his body fails him.

That’s an over-simplified summary of Aleksey German’s 1998 opus, Khrustalyov, My Car! (named after the supposed phrase uttered by Lavrentiy Beria after Stalin’s death, and considered by some the first words of the post-Stalin era of Russian history.) Even with a deep knowledge of Soviet history one would have difficulty following Khrustalyov, as the 150-minute film may be one of the closest approximations of madness ever contributed to cinema.

Khrustalyov is a claustrophobic, relentless nightmare. The characters rarely stop moving – and neither does the camera, it seems, persistently chasing the General and others through endless, cramped corridors or over busy, snow-buried streets. German took five years to complete his film, which shows in the film’s nearly unbelievable attention to detail. Every frame of the movie is as packed as possible with objects, furniture, and people; every single extra’s actions appear to be directed as explicitly and carefully as the main characters’. Every single moment is precisely choreographed: important characters always march quickly and with purpose in one direction, background characters rushing another way while fighting, carousing, and otherwise jockeying for viewers’ attention. Meanwhile the ever-moving camera does all it can to keep the ceaseless hustle-and-bustle in frame while carefully-placed objects fall in front of it at turn after turn. Shot in stark, beautiful black-and-white, the experience is absolutely exhausting all the while utterly absorbing.

Think back to the loudest, tightest crowd you’ve ever been in: pressed shoulder-to-shoulder, with everyone shouting out their own, separate conversations and arguments to the point where you can barely hear your own thoughts. That’s the persistent feeling over two-and-a-half hours of Khrustalyov. Frequently surreal and as darkly humorous as it is disturbing, it can easily be argued that it’s an amazing achievement – but also an extremely challenging viewing experience.

Arrow Academy’s Blu-ray treatment presents the movie in a stunning HD restoration, and surrounds it with extras to help the viewer make sense of the madness which unfolds on screen. Critic Eugénie Zvonkine provides a helpful, half-hour video essay on German’s long but concise filmmaking career. (The director made only six films stretched over almost 50 years.) Also useful is a feature on the Doctor’s plot from academic Jonathan Brent, who gives an outline of the awful events that inspired the film. We also have two interviews, a full-length commentary, and a 60-page book of essays and vintage reviews. It won’t totally clarify the on-screen insanity of Khrustalyov, but it helps answer many of the questions you’ll have after the film.