Nicholas and Alexandra (1971) - film review

In 1904 Tsar Nicholas II of Russia ignores the advice of his closest allies and launches a war against Japan to protect his nation’s interest in Korea.  It is a war that will cost thousands of lives and marks the beginning of the end of the reign of the tsars.  Coincidentally, this is the year in which Nicholas becomes more confident of the succession, through the birth of his son Alexei.  But it is a fragile succession built on hope and fear, for Alexei suffers from hemophilia and could die if he incurs even the slightest injury.  With both Nicholas and his consort Alexandra preoccupied with their son, political events soon begin to over take the Tsar.  Unrest is growing amongst the ordinary people of Russia, fuelled by Alexandra’s patronage of the mystic Grigori Rasputin.  Meanwhile, covert political organisations plot the downfall of Tsar Nicholas and the creation of a new Communist state.  When a peaceful protest at the Winter Palace ends in a bloody massacre, the spirit of revolution fills the air of Russia.  The country’s losses in the First World War provide Nicholas’s enemies with the opportunity they need to take power from him and so bring an end to three centuries of Romanov rule...

One of the most lavish historical dramas ever made, this ambitious adaptation of Robert K. Massie’s epic novel remains cinema’s most thorough and compelling account of the Russian Revolution.   With its stunning production values, the film conveys not only the turmoil of the period with graphic brilliance, but also vividly evokes the anguish of the players caught up in this drama – not just the Tsar and his entourage, but the ordinary people of Russia.  It is a shame that the film’s visual impact is undermined by a mediocre screenplay, which drags the pace to a lumbering crawl in the second half of the film and fails to make the main protagonists much more than caricatures of their real-life historical counterparts.

Franklin J. Schaffner’s direction is effective but lacks the inspired touch he showed on his previous two great films – Planet of the Apes (1969) and Patton (1970).   By contrast, his cinematographer, Freddie Young, excels himself, achieving the same eye-pleasing artistry that he brought to his collaborations with David Lean, on such films as Lawrence of Arabia (1962) and Doctor Zhivago (1965).  Young’s work is complemented by the film’s Oscar-winning art direction and costumes, which also contribute greatly to the mood and opulence of the film.

Surprisingly, the failings in the screenplay do not greatly tarnish the performances.  Whilst some of the dialogue may seem trite and slightly absurd there is hardly a single character in this film who is not portrayed with the utmost conviction.  It is hard to believe that this is Michael Jayston’s first (and only) leading film role.  Better known for his stage work, Jayston shows here that he is also a very capable screen actor.  He has a magisterial screen presence that makes him an ideal casting choice for the role of the last Tsar of Russia.  Jayston’s scenes with Janet Suzman, another remarkable actor (best remembered for her TV work), are easily the most moving, bringing a humanity and realism which are lacking elsewhere in the film.  And who better to play the debauched mad monk Rasputin than Tom Baker?  The future Doctor Who pretty well steals the show with a performance that seethes with a manic intensity and the kind of wide-eyed religious fervour that would now earn you a one-way ticket to Guantanamo Bay.  The supporting cast reads like a Who’s Who (no pun intended) of British acting talent, including such legendary performers as Laurence Olivier, Michael Redgrave and Jack Hawkins.  

Nicholas and Alexandra is an outstanding production, a gripping tale of court intrigue and human tragedy played against a backdrop of monumental proportions.  The film has often been criticised for its length, but it is hard to see how the story could have been told in a shorter space without sacrificing historical accuracy or dramatic impact.  It may drag a little in places, some of the characters may be too thinly sketched to be credible, but such is the visual power and emotional restraint of the film that such failings are easily forgiven.  The simplicity and total lack of sentimentality in the final sequence, depicting the tragic fate of the Romanov family, is ultimately what makes this film so poignant and memorable.

© Chris Alderton 2010

Write a review for this film...

What do you think of this film?