You know, I love watching early cinema. Those German Expressionist silents are still fantastic for the modern viewer to watch and the 1930s was a decade chock-full of excellence. Sadly, BY THE BLUEST OF SEAS is a rather dull affair, one of those art-house movies that's raved over by the critics but actually turns out to be pretty dull and insubstantial when it comes down to it.The story is nothing more than a simple love triangle between a couple of fishermen and the girl they both fall in love with. The acting is so minimalist as to be non-existent and the story that plays out is simplistic so that there's barely enough material for the short running time. What the film does benefit from is some very nice cinematography that makes the best of the locations (this was filmed in Azerbaijan on the shores of the Caspian Sea) but of course given the title colour is necessary to make this a truly great-looking production. BY THE BLUEST OF SEAS is nothing special, I'm afraid.

By the Bluest of Seas is a surprisingly warm and funny film from Soviet Russia. The story is rather slight. Two shipwrecked sailors wash up on an island in the Caspian Sea, set to work for the local fishing commune and vie for the affections of a local lass. There are jokes and songs, all handled with a light and joyful touch. Meanwhile the sun beats down, the wind blows and the waves roll, and this looks wonderful. You can almost feel the warmth and taste the salt. The small issue of who gets the girl brings the odd shadow, but all in all life on the commune is just grand. And that's about it apart from a tiresome communist moral at the end, which I suppose qualifies as propaganda, but is only as intrusive as the moral correctives at the end of Hollywood movies of the same period. By the Bluest of Seas is a tremendously warm hearted film that seems to come from a different world to the well known Soviet classics of the 20s and 30s.

It's difficult for me to judge Rivette's statement about Boris Barnet having been the greatest of Soviet filmmakers after Eisenstein ; I definitely prefer his works to Eisenstein's or let's say Pudovkin's."U samogo sinyego morya" ("By the Bluest of Seas"), a cheerful poetic miniature capturing skirmishes between love and friendship, abounds in crystal clear simplicity and heartfelt humour. In addition to these, we get more than a couple of credible faces (the one of Yelena Kuzmina in particular), a lot of nice songs, and last but not least the most impressive shots of breakers which I have ever encountered on screen.Some reviewers didn't see any Soviet propaganda in the movie. I must disagree : the scenery upon which the personal storyline unfolds evidently promotes period collectivism,a.o. No wonder, then. However, art in Barnet's rendering transcends everything else.The transfer on Mr.Bongo's recent release seems quite good ; regrettably no extras were taken from the original Ruscico version.

This Russian film directed by Boris Barnet in 1935 seems to be available only on a Bach Films DVD with French sub-titles. Fortunately, there is not a great deal of dialogue, so even those with limited Russian and/or French should encounter little difficulty in relating to it. And it is a beautiful movie, with truly inspiring photography, that is worth relating to, despite the occasional adherence or lip service to the party line.The story is a simple one. Two shipwrecked sailors, played by blond hero Nikolai Kryuchkov and clownish Lev Sverdlin, are washed up on an island in the Caspian Sea. Fortunately, it's not only inhabited but has a small fishing co-operative, headed by Semyon Svashenko, so our boys soon find work. But more importantly – at least so far as Nikolai and Lev are concerned – the island boasts a female doer and leader in the lovely form (at least to the eyes of two shipwrecked sailors) of Yelena Kuzmina.But don't pay too much mind to the forever blustering hero, or the pitiable, self-pitying, droopy-eyed clown, or even the passably attractive but somewhat careworn (and definitely no glamour model) heroine. It's the photography that counts, the mise en scène, the surge of the waves, the tilting sky, the sunlit sands. If ever a movie was a visual poem, a constant but ever-changing delight to the eye, that movie is Au Bord de la Mer Bleue. And it runs just long enough not out-stay its welcome!