*some spoilers are included* After I've watched this for the first time, I was confused and not very happy. I liked the movie, but I expected it to be a total sacrifice movie because I was enchanted by Lars Von Trier movies and his work which is pretty cruel in my opinion ( and that's why I adore him) and then this movie gave me some kind of easy, light, kinda sleepy heavenly feel. It slowly introduced me to the world of the eternal beauty of nature, subtle philosophy teachings and the kindness of Alexander (I loved his personality all the time). It is not perfect because of the sacrifice itself, but of the glorious images which are also some very strong symbols. I adored the fire, it really touched me and I thought of some philosophy statements about the fire itself. If you want a total sacrifice I recommend "Breaking The Waves" (Lars Von Trier), but if you want an art treasure and nature yelling at your face, this is the great movie. I gave it 9/10 because the plot was little weak, maybe that is why I love this? I don't know, but this movie will have its hands on my mind for a long, long time.

Tarkovsky's high-concept parable, his last film, may seem like extreme Bergman at first—some of the same actors and crew, including Erland Josephson and Sven Nykvist, same rugged northern coastline, a plot line that had been explored before (more or less) in Bergman's "Shame." And of course, Tarkovsky makes pretty extreme demands on the viewer; you have to endure an hour or so of gaseous philosophizing and world-weary epigrams before things really start happening. Until then, the only relief is supplied by a witchy Icelandic kitchenmaid (Guðrún Gísladóttir!) and an eccentric mailman who tells a spooky anecdote, plus lingering shots of the gorgeous set. Try not to doze off (like I did for a bit) or press the Stop button before Tarkovsky has a chance to display his full powers as a director and visual artist. Hint: there's an ominous announcement on the radio (a JVC tuner in what looks like an antique walnut cabinet) and the lights go out; as soon as Erland sets off on his wobbly bicycle ride, you're pretty much out of the woods (figuratively speaking—there's only one highly symbolic tree in sight). The haunting final scenes and the epilogue are justly celebrated, though I'll leave the mystical meaning of all this to others. I'd give four stars, at best, to the first hour or so, ten stars to the rest. Cinephiles may want to watch on DVD; the color on the streaming video on Amazon seemed a little washed out.

The final and my final Andrei Tarkovsky film solidifies him in my top 10 directors of all-time list. The Sacrifice feels like a tour of everything Tarkovsky, though putting itself in the ideal middle ground as to explore them all. It features science-fiction, philosophy, mortality, male- female relationships, parent-child relationships, religion, magic, long shots, rich plots, nature and wide static angles. The imagery is a particular strong point, with his always incredible cinematography, as the colour is drained from the film during the World War III sequences and brought back subsequently. It has a very delicate and patient approach, but allows itself to explode with surprises without feeling contrived.Much of the dialogue elaborates anecdotal metaphors to the crumbling of life which represent the outer view of the world and are often fascinating. My only issues are the overacting of Susan Fleetwood (who is, interestingly enough, the younger sister to Mick Fleetwood of Fleetwood Mac, one of my favourite bands, odd that a British person should star in a Tarkovsky film) and it's sometimes too mythological rather than spiritual, with Maria being explained as being a witch rather than having it ambiguous or up for interpretation. I imagine this will be a film that will fascinate me more in rewatches, but I already adore the idea of the premise.8/10

Exiled from his native Russia, Andrei Tarkovsky shot his final film, The Sacrifice, on Faro Island, where Ingmar Bergman produced his body of work (and also lived). Tarkovsky also used Bergman's cinematographer, Sven Nykvist. He was also aware that this would be his ultimate film, as he had been diagnosed with terminal cancer. Unfortunately, whilst he survived till the release of the film, he died shortly afterwards, in the same year. The subject of his concluding piece is telling of his knowledge of his impending departure from the world, and it is fitting and profound, as you might expect from the Russian master of the poetic, and aesthetic.Alexander (played by Erland Josephson - a Bergman regular, who also worked on Tarkovsky's 1983 Nostalgia), has a birthday, where some family and close island friend, Otto (Allan Edwall), come to offer their congratulations. They here on a statically-interrupted television broadcast. that a nuclear strike is imminent. With this news the family break down emotionally, and Alexander pleads to God to alter this reality, and offers himself in sacrifice to the ones he loves. This offering is seen to its fundamental conclusion when he wakes (possibly from a dream), and all is as it was, the threat of World War III seemingly never a subject of genuine certainty. Towards the climax of this film, is a one-shot take lasting several minutes, whose logistics are incredible, but Tarkovsky still manages to infuse the scene with some kind of mystical power, that I believe permeates all of his films.As you would expect from a Tarkovsky film, the pace is slow (which gives the audience time to immerse themselves within the intricacies of philosophical thought, and the profound nature of the situation). But with this comes a flurry of beautiful imagery. The muted colours reflect the setting, with its cold, and subdued backdrop. And what is it that we do when we face death - a difficult moment to comprehend? We perhaps reflect on our achievements, and speak to our friends and family. And perhaps when we die, our spirit lives on in others, or new beings. Or maybe we simply continue in the minds and spirits of our offspring, passing on knowledge, character, and morality.www.the-wrath-of-blog.blogspot.com