Many elements in this film are about getting closer to the story, and the characters. One of the earliest indications of this intent is the camera- it is very lively throughout the film, and one of the repeating motifs is of it coming closer to scene- first physically but then much closer than even that. The camera moves like a person in the scene, only one unafraid of proximity, and very early on we can even see the camera take the viewpoint of a character being pushed inside a building; but strangely that's still the second closest it comes to a character.During the childbirth scene in this movie, the camera is able to enter a metaphysical place as a metaphor for the main characters current experience- scenes of soldiers and horses. But the movie is just as much about the reality that was used as a metaphor as it was about the 'actual' events.The scope of the plot is incredibly small as it follows a single family and Klavdia over a few days. but through this very small scope the movie speaks about something much more- about the treatment of Jews, about war, and about the revolution.This movie gets very close to a few characters and creates an emotional bond between them and the audience. In a word, this movie is very human, creating scenes that are very warm and others that are very sad. And through these few character and events is capable of talking about much more.

Commissar directed by Aleksandr Askoldov is a 1967 Soviet film based on one of Vasily Grossman's short stories. The story is set during the Russian Civil War and centers around a female commissar of the Red Army cavalry, Vavilova, who is introduced to the audience as a brutal soldier shooting a deserter with zero remorse. The audience clearly sees her inhumane nature when she finds herself pregnant and mentions how she would have gotten rid of "it" if only she had known earlier. Finding herself pregnant and due to deliver her baby any day she is forced to stay with a not so well off Jewish family who is at the beginning is reluctant to accept her staying with them. Through her time with this family her character makes a drastic change as she now embraces motherhood, and life as a woman. One of the many themes in this film is the effect war has had on adults and children alike. The husband, who is exhausted from constantly working while earning very little, but has to feed seven children. The wife, who has to do all the house chores. In one scene the children aggressively bully and begin to wage a mock pogrom on their older sister by tying her to a swing and swaying her back and forth. The action could have only been possible by observing the actions of soldiers. Although the family is caught in all this chaos Askoldov manages to capture the warm nature of family life through the slow panning of the children and their parents sleeping as well as them dancing together. Askoldov finds ways to dramatize particular scenes; one noticeable moment is the scene of Vavilova struggling during her delivery, which is paralleled with a scene of a group of soldiers struggling to push a wagon. Also the scene where the soldiers are drinking water after succeeding to push the wagon and the scene where Vavilova drinks water when she succeeds in giving birth. This film did not adhere to the honorable vision of Soviet life in war along with the aftermath that the party officials desired the world to see. The audience is made aware of the Soviet Unions role in the holocaust, which is captured in a striking dream sequence near the end of the film where the Jewish family is happily dancing and the moment is cut short as we see the family wearing stars walking with other Jews to what seems to be a concentration camp.

The story and characters are a bit thin; a female leader in the Russian Revolutionary army in 1922 is disgraced when she is found to be pregnant, and goes to live with a Jewish family, loses her hard shell and becomes a mother. But the black and white images are truly striking and impressive, especially the fantasy sequences. They give the story a much deeper power and resonance than it would otherwise have. Especially impressive as a first film. this was suppressed by the Moscow authorities for 20 years for it's sympathetic view of Jews and their oppression in Russia, and the implication that the USSR was complicit in knowing about and not stopping the concentration camps of WW 2.

From staunch militant to sensitive mother, Vavilova's search for self-identity is one that creates meaningful stories, both internally and externally. She is a very curious character. With masculinity and devout patriotism as two of her defining qualities, she does not subscribe to the typical female persona (at least in the beginning).Each quality creates a thought provoking dynamic for how she faces internal and external wars. Her internal war is pregnancy. As the child grows within her poses a threat to her masculinity, a subsequent external war is created—that is, the child additionally poses a threat to her patriotic rank as Commissar. Although both wars throw her life into a state of imbalance, they also help develop her in becoming a more volitional and rounded character. In particular, her internal war creates maternity and sensitivity—two qualities that lacked in her previous commanding status.She acquires both qualities after giving birth; this is depicted when singing a lullaby to her sleeping babe as well as when emotionally breast-feeding him (two actions which run contrary to her initially bleak and cold persona). Her external war (i.e. love of country), so too created by the pregnancy, introduces the most difficult challenge she has to face in the film: the choice of whether to marry herself to her country by divorcing from her child, or keeping her child and ridding her patriotism.What draws her to eventually side with her country is a series of haunting flashbacks and clairvoyant visions. In one specific moment while suffering through the birthing process, her mind flashes to a dreary landscape filled with military soldiers, who, like herself, struggle to push a heavy piece of artillery up the side of a steep and sandy hill. This image evokes at least one particular meaning—one which acts like a stepping stone to help Vavilova make her final decision when giving up her child: The collective group pushing the machine uphill is a type of not only the communist ideals that Vavilova stands for, but is also a metaphor for the strenuous birthing process itself. In other words, the birth of a child and the birth of a nation are equally painstaking tasks—both which require exertion (i.e. masculinity) and loyalty (i.e. patriotism).The flashback ends with her waking up in panic, repeating to herself several times: "Stop torturing me." These words speak on multiple levels. In one sense, she is tired of being mentally tortured from the government that oppresses her with stringency. In another sense, she is tired of being physically tortured during the birthing process. Rich is the emotion and meaning of this flashback, and consequently it later leads to an extremely significant clairvoyant vision.During this vision she witnesses the forthcoming holocaust of WWII. She sees herself with child swaddled in arms, shuffling amongst a sheepish group of Jews as they wander to their death chambers. Reluctant to follow what she sees, it's as if she's asking herself while in vision, "Is this my fate?" Her subtexual obstinacy kicks in: "No, it can't be." She is the author of her choices and will not be subject to any deterministic beliefs. She feels she can change this outcome, but she must act now. However, the choice to act is a difficult one given her present circumstance. What choice does she make: raise her child or fight for her country? She cannot do both, for by focusing on one the other is inevitably sacrificed. Where, then, is optimism to be found in her utterly bleak and tortured world? The aesthetics of the film help contribute to this bleakness by the director's choice of shooting the story in black and white. Only in a world like Vavilova's are colors of the rainbow absent. The black and white look is a reflection of the coldness she feels inside, empty of any optimism. Interestingly enough, however, the Jews surrounding her in vision seem to be optimistic—they raise their arms in an almost dance-like ritual, knowing full well that death will soon embrace them all. She steps back nervously. Her body language has spoken. She remembers back on the corrupt youth that exist in her present—the ones who so ignorantly mimic their corrupted elders—and feels an obligation to save the youth, and particularly her own child from such corruption. Although most of this is more or less implied, I strongly believe that this extraction is highly plausible given her final decision.She does not abandon her child, though some may argue so. She leaves her child in the hands of a very nurturing family; ones who she could trust since they too had nurtured her during her period of birth and even rebirth. Holding the confidence that her child will be safely watched after, she returns to her former state of balance by joining the war effort. She has rediscovered her meaning, place and identity in life: she is a warrior. Her life cannot be lived in fairy tales, like Yefim suggested when turning the war into a theatrical play for his children. Her life must be lived in truth and in truth only. That is the film's predominant theme: Despite how ugly the truth of reality is—even during times of war and torture—it must be embraced and dealt with; not thrown to some fantasy that creates false optimism. By living in a fairytale, she potentially falls prey to becoming a victim of the holocaust; by living in truth, she attempts to reverse the effects of such an outcome by fighting the monster of war.