The idea for this picture was born in the head of Sergei Selyanov, the head of the STV company, after he read the story by Evgeny Danilenko. Danilenko is not Dotsenko, his work does not belong to the genre of mass “pulp fiction”, this is a claim to high-quality prose, in my opinion, somewhat mannered and not entirely intelligible, but Selyanov, obviously, thought differently. True, in the process of translating the book into film language, almost nothing remained of either the original plot or the image of the main character. Only one property - at some point, from the ordinary living hand of the mutant hero, a “steel claw” of extraordinary strength jumps out, a blade that can easily cut off tree trunks, and even human heads, arms and bodies - as if nothing could be done. The author of the book does not explain how and why this terrible feature appeared, but the filmmakers thought about it and decided that it was from the injustice and aggression of the surrounding world, from the desire to protect and deal with evil. But this power is not controlled, it is not very subordinate to the owner, and therefore causes a lot of problems. That is why the hero of the film is always thoughtful, depressed and longing to get rid of the blade, even ready to cut off his hand, but that was not the case...
For the film, they decided to humanize the monster, make him young, unhappy, in love, provide him with a tender mother, aggressive enemies and unfaithful friends. It seems that they tried to reach our beloved Brother, a sort of Danila Bagrov, but with a mystical twist. Screenwriter Konstantin Syngaevsky crammed all this into some kind of plot with a chase, love, bloody showdowns and comic cops.
For the role of director, Selyanov chose Philip Yankovsky, who made a name for himself with his lively, albeit superficial debut, “On the Move.” Yankovsky, apparently, found it very interesting to film such an unusual texture, although he did not seem to be imbued with the importance of the problem, which is why his work periodically slides into a parody of Stephen King films, but mostly steers between a flirtatious gloss and a fake “hardcore” film in the style of “crime films.” investigations on NTV." Yankovsky is truly captivated by objects - then we peer into an incomprehensible brew bubbling on the stove of one of the characters, who will soon be dragged, lifeless, into the basement. Then let’s focus on the scattered beads under the bare feet of the unfortunate heroine. We watch how the dyed fabric swells blue... Sometimes we are shocked: by the sight of severed limbs and clots of blood that the unfortunate victims spit out before dying. It should be noted that the hero (his name is simply Sasha, and the heroine is “Katya, of course”) does not always use his nature’s deadly sting, sometimes he kills his enemies simply with his hands, or with an iron stick, the main thing is that adrenaline turns a puny, essentially superman-like boy.
And like any iron man, he has a weak spot. Beloved, it is clear - from the first, fleeting glance - a gentle woman. Philip Yankovsky chose the characters exquisitely. He is a debutant Artem Tkachenko - the profile of Vrubel's Demon, elongated eyes on a narrow face, the kind of handsome men schoolgirls draw on blotters. She is with oriental bliss in her dilated pupils, pale, thin, playful, half-woman, half-child, Chulpan Khamatova, an elf with invariably lined eyes, a dream for beginning photographers. Their passion is silent and immeasurable.
The director films it as beautifully and stylishly as possible. He doesn’t mess around at all, where necessary - the sunset and the sea, where necessary - the red brick of an industrial zone. And not an action film, but a serious film with problems, almost art cinema, but accessible to the common man. Moreover, there really is nothing complicated - emotions are simple, relationships are schematic, motivation is absent, reality is simply removed, but it is decorative, detailed, tough and not childish.
This is all serious. With a premiere on 400 screens. With a PR campaign launched six months before the premiere. With the assurances of Sergei Selyanov that in this picture he got exactly what he had in mind. Then the question is: what exactly are you planning?
Let’s say I believe in Sergei Selyanov’s ability to see the needs of the audience (although they cannot be considered completely infallible, but he himself repeats everywhere that there is no cinema without risk). In this case, let’s try to create a “recipe from Selyanov” or what the public needs from Russian cinema.
The first is a bright, memorable picture. So that everything is clearly visible, immediately understandable, and clearly understandable.
The second is a memorable hero with whom anyone can identify, for which the hero must have a pleasant but deceptive appearance, that is, seemingly harmless, but in fact be able to give such a wit that mom don’t worry. By the way, it’s interesting that Selyanov apparently has a special passion for lone heroes (perhaps it’s no coincidence that he handed over the script for the first “Boomer”, which fell into his hands, to another producer: a company, a group of friends of equal status, and also not winners , not his material).
Third. Individual scenes must be aggressive in a pictorial sense, without necessarily having a rational connection between them. A plot in the classical sense is no longer needed, the main thing is that within a separate scene some semblance of stylistic unity is maintained.
Fourth. No more words are needed. Verbosity is not fashionable. It is better if the characters exchange interjections, occasionally dropping simple everyday aphorisms.
Fifth. The relationships between the characters, as well as the main conflict of the hero with the world around him, should be simple and emotional. The world is hostile and aggressive, but the hero will cope. Alas, the price of victory is usually loneliness.
The "Sword Bearer" has a problem here. In this film, the conflict stated in the script turned out to be of no interest to the director. Philip Yankovsky has no experience of survival, he is a child of a prosperous and friendly world and therefore full of inner harmony. No matter how hard he tries, everything ends up in the toy room, where the worst horror is the jack-in-the-box. And then the director begins to scare: in a black, black room... Everything should become scary - in the frame there is still an ordinary country house, but behind the scenes there is already a threatening grinding sound. So a child in a pioneer camp at night lowers his voice, intimidating his fellow prisoners: “And suddenly from under the bed...” And, unable to withstand the tension that has arisen, he immediately switches to another register: “What? Nothing! Yellow boots!” So it is with Yankovsky. Unable to withstand animal seriousness, he now and then makes innocent jokes, sharpening some particularly harsh scene to the point of complete absurdity.
Those viewers of "The Sword Bearer" who are trying to tie up loose ends, to understand whether to sympathize with the hero or be horrified by his actions, get tired of this emptiness and incoherence already in the first third of the film. However, there are others who do not need to make such efforts at all; they float on the waves of simple emotions, equally ready to cry or laugh, be touched or admired, if what they are shown meets at least three of the basic conditions - bright, intrusive, boiling loudly. And which viewers are more likely to be among those who are willing to shell out money for a movie ticket? In general, we can wish “Sword Bearer” success. There is a chance.