Also known as “The Tsar and the Carpenter.” West Germany, 1970. Television production. Musical. Color; German language; Running time: 137 minutes; Directed by Joachim Hess; Libretto by Albert Lortzing. Starring Raymond Wolansky as Peter the Great, Hans Sotin as van Bett, Burgermeister of Saardam, and Herbert Fliether as Admiral Lefort.
Another musical version of Peter the Great’s time in Holland.
WHY RUSSIANS ARE REVOLTING 1970
US, 1970. Comedy. Black and white; English language; Running time: 91 minutes; Directed by Neil Sullivan; Screenplay by Neil Sullivan. Starring D. F. Barry as Leon Trotsky, Saul Katz as Stalin, and Wes Carter as Rasputin.
A peculiar comedy shot in grainy black and white to imitate newsreels that depicts the outbreak of the Russian Revolution.
NICHOLAS AND ALEXANDRA 1971
US/UK, 1971. Drama. Color; English language; Running time: 189 minutes; Produced by Sam Spiegel; Directed by Franklin J. Schaffner; Screenplay by James Goldman, based on Robert K. Massie’s book. Art Direction-Set Decoration by John Box, Ernest Archer, Jack Maxsted, Gil Parrondo, and Vernon Dixon; Costume Design by Yvonne Blake and Antonio Castillo; Cinematography by Freddie Young; Original Musical Score by Richard Rodney Bennett. Starring Michael Jayston as Nicholas II, Janet Suzman as Alexandra, Roderic Noble as Alexei, Ania Marson as Olga, Lynne Frederick as Tatiana, Candace Glendenning as Marie, Fiona Fullerton as Anastasia, Harry Andrews as Grand Duke Nicholas Nikolaievich, Irene Worth as Dowager Empress Marie Feodorovna, Tom Baker as Rasputin, Jack Hawkins as Count Vladimir de Freedericksz, Timothy West as Dr. Botkin, Jean-Claude Prouot as Pierre Gilliard, John Haller as Nagorny, Peter McEnery as Kerensky, Laurence Olivier as Count Witte, Eric Porter as Peter Stolypin, Michael Redgrave as Serge Sazonov, Alan Webb as Yakov Yurovsky, Martin Potter as Prince Felix Yusupov, and Richard Warwick as Grand Duke Dimitri.
An adaptation of Robert K Massie’s best-selling 1967 popular biography of the last Russian Imperial couple, this was the first film to attempt to tell the story of Nicholas and Alexandra from a full spectrum. It begins in 1904, with the birth of Tsesarevich Alexei in the midst of the Russian-Japanese War, and ends with the assassination of the Imperial Family in Ekaterinburg on July 16, 1918.Producer Sam Spiegel, who won the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences Irving Thalberg Award, as well as a multitude of Oscars for his regular film work, had previously worked on “The African Queen,” “On The Waterfront,” “Bridge on the River Kwai,” and “Lawrence of Arabia.” Thus, he was no stranger to the epic motion picture. In 1968, having read Massie’s book, he purchased the film rights, believing that the story would certainly find a welcome home on the screen.(1)In 1970, Spiegel asked Franklin J. Schaffner, who had just won the Oscar for his work on “Patton,” to direct the film. To write the screenplay, he hired James Goldman, another Academy Award winner for his screenplay of the Katherine Hepburn-Peter O’Toole biography “The Lion in Winter.”(2) Goldman took two years to write the script, which should have been an early indication of the trouble that lay ahead. Spiegel was never quite satisfied, complaining that it was “not classy enough.” A mere five weeks before shooting was to begin, he attempted to hire an additional writer to go over it and make corrections, but the effort failed, and Spiegel went into production convinced that the movie was deeply flawed.(3)Spiegel expended many weeks considering the casting process. Press reports of the day all mentioned the possible casting of Audrey Hepburn, Elizabeth Taylor, Vanessa Redgrave, and even Princess Grace of Monaco as possible contenders for the role of Alexandra. Rex Harrison was mentioned as a possible Nicholas II, but in the end Spiegel only offered him the minor role of Count Serge Witte; Harrison was apparently insulted, and refused to have anything to do with the production. The contemporary press also reported that Yul Brynner was in talks to take on the role of Rasputin, but Spiegel seemed to favor Peter O’Toole for the part. In the end, neither man joined the company; Spiegel was particularly livid at O’Toole’s apparent salary demands, complaining that he had made him a star with “Lawrence of Arabia.”(4) Sir Laurence Olivier agreed to take on the part of Count Witte, and it was Olivier who apparently recommended Tom Baker to Spiegel for the role of Rasputin.
In the role of Nicholas II, Spiegel cast Michael Jayston. Jayston, a native of Nottingham, England, had previously worked as an accountant for the National Coal Board before joining London's Guildhall School of Drama. Following two years of work here, he joined the Old Vic Theatre, and began a professional career that, in 1965, culminated with a three-year contract with the Royal Shakespeare Company. His film debut came in 1970’s historical biography “Cromwell.”(5) “I think Michael was a perfect Nicholas,” recalls Janet Suzman, who portrayed Alexandra, “not only looking the spitting image, but finding the right degree of weakness and dependency.”(6)For the role of Alexandra, Spiegel cast South African-born Janet Suzman, then a star of London’s Royal Shakespeare Company. Prior to the role of Alexandra, most of Suzman’s work had been on stage, where she portrayed a number of Shakespearian parts.(7)Suzman recalls the intense preparation which went into her portrayal of the Empress: “I read everything I could lay my hands on, including several out-of-print books found in The London Library. One particularly interesting one was by Alexandra’s maid.(8) She was clearly utterly devoted to her mistress, so one had to take her gushes with a pinch of salt. But I was interested to read both pros and cons. Only thus could one approximate the (presumed) truth. I felt it incumbent upon me to her justice, since she was dead and could not speak for herself; she had only me to present her case to the world. Contemporary descriptions of court life in St. Petersburg were revealing-how, for instance, the ladies used to sport the longest possible egret feathers in their headdresses, hoping to tickle Alexandra’s rather stuck-up nose as they bowed over her hand. It appears she was disliked by the Russian Courtiers. That made one all the more eager to seek out her good points. Robert Massie’s book was most helpful, and he himself was around while we shot to be a source of information. So too was the late Baroness Budberg, who was, it appeared, present at Prince Yusupov’s house the night of the murder of Rasputin. My personal opinion at the time of playing her was not too complimentary, but I kept these opinions at bay since one must not stand in judgment on a character. I found her to be intellectually limited, emotionally profligate and a religious obsessive-there’s nothing like a convert. But she could not help being a product of her background, and that meant she was severely limited in her understanding of the world. That said, I came to understand and sympathize with, her absolute concentration on Alexei’s plight, and I read her actions in the light of this maternal grief. She was a creature of her time and class, which meant snobbish and unimaginative, out of touch with the times, and like Nicholas, a victim of her courtiers’ courage to tell the truth about what was happening outside of the nursery walls, which was usually nil: they told the Tsar and Tsarina what they wanted to hear. She was as incapable of understanding or forgiving the forces underlying the Revolution as she would be of condoning blasphemy. Alexandra is not my kind of person. Had I met her I think I might have disliked her. I'm glad I didn’t. The divine right of monarchs is not a credo I hold dear.”(9)
At first, Spiegel had hoped to shoot in the actual locations in Leningrad. Janet Suzman recalls that Spiegel had been on the telephone, trying to negotiate with the U. S. State Department, but that his request was denied. “They won’t give me Leningrad!” he shouted on meeting his lead actress.(10) Instead, the entire production moved to Spain and Yugoslavia. John Box served as Production Designer; he had previously won Oscars for his work on “Lawrence of Arabia,” “Oliver!” and “Dr. Zhivago.” Three designers-Ernest Archer, Jack Maxsted and Gil Perrondo-shared responsibility for the execution of the sets, while Vernon Dixon, as Set Dresser, helped fill in the nuances: ensuring that the objets d’art decorating the tables, the photographs on the walls, and the icons were all historically correct. The film was budgeted at $8 million in 1970.(11) Principal filming began on November 30, 1970, and wrapped on April 17, 1971.Most of the interior filming took place on specially erected sets at the Estudios Sevilla in Madrid. To represent the Alexander Palace at Tsarskoye Selo, a number of rooms were built: a reception hall, a long, ceremonial corridor lined with columns; a hall to the private apartments; Nicholas and Alexandra’s Bedroom; the Mauve Boudoir; the Emperor’s Study; a Cabinet Room; and Tsesarevich Alexei’s Bedroom. There was also a room that served as Alexandra’s private chapel. The interiors were not exact recreations of rooms at the Alexander Palace, but were designed and adorned in the spirit of the their general decoration. The Imperial couple’s Bedroom, for example, sported twin brass beds set in a draped alcove whose walls were covered with icons, closely approximating the actual Bedroom in the Palace; Alexandra’s Boudoir set featured a fireplace and paneling similar to those in the real room; and the Emperor’s Study was decorated with bookcases and wooden panels as was the original. These sets were redressed to provide the interiors for the Palace of Grand Duke Nicholas Nikolaievich, where a birthday party is given in the film for the Dowager Empress. Alexandra’s Chapel was re-dressed as the ballroom, a change unfortunately made noticeable by the presence of the same paintings on the walls of the two rooms as well as the marble columns and deep blue walls.
These sets were composed of real marble, brocade, gilt and antique furniture. “To start with,” the movie's pressbook explained, “real marble, crystal, gilt, expensive draperies and carpets all played a vital part in recreating authentically one of the most splendid courts in history. But it also emerged as an economic fact that in Spain, it was less expensive to use the real thing than to manufacture marble effects. Genuine marble stood up to wear and tear from heavy film making equipment and actors’ footsteps, while an imitation would have needed daily-and costly-renewal.”(12) These opulent interiors helped provide not only the grandeur necessary to the tale, but also provided a strong contrast to the last hour of the film, which followed the Imperial Family in captivity and depicted them in surroundings that were the antithesis of the palace settings.
Several scenes, including the meetings Nicholas holds with ministers just prior to and during the mobilization of the Russian Army at the start of the World War, were shot in the Palacio Riera in Madrid, owned by Doña Blanca de Aragón y Carrillo de Albornoz, Barroeta-Aldamar y Elio, mother of Queen Fabiola of Belgium, and built in 1878 for the Count of Muguiro by architect Sainz de la Lastra.(13) For exteriors, including the memorable scene following the Emperor’s declaration of War on Germany, the producers used the Palazio Real in Madrid. For this scene, General Francisco Franco detailed hundreds of Spanish soldiers to work as extras; “the entire Spanish Army seemed to be at Spiegel’s disposal,” recalls Janet Suzman.(14) For exteriors of the Alexander Palace, the producer selected Aranjuez, a suburban palace outside of Madrid; it can be glimpsed when Nicholas and Alexandra leave for the Dowager Empress’s birthday ball. Another palace, La Granja in Segovia, is briefly glimpsed in a scene where Nicholas and Alexei embark on a ceremonial horseback ride as courtiers look on and applaud.
Second Unit filming, as well as location shooting for the Livadia, Spala, Tobolsk and Ekaterinburg scenes took place along the Spanish coast and in the foothills and mountains of the Sierras. Although the White Palace at Livadia is never shown in the film, it is depicted using a sub-tropical beach, garden, and Mediterranean-style loggia on the grounds of the Hostal de la Gavina in Platja D’aro. Both the set for the Governor’s House in Tobolsk and the exterior of the Ipatiev House were built in the Spanish foothills, the former to take advantage of the winter snow.
No scenes in “Nicholas and Alexandra” were set aboard the Imperial yacht Standart, but the Imperial train was depicted in several scenes. Two old Pullman carriages were re-dressed with silk hangings, overstuffed furniture, and velvet curtains and carpets to stand in for the actual Imperial train, though their decoration was somewhat less than authentic. When filming on “Nicholas and Alexandra” ended in 1971, a director purchased them for use in his 1972 Spanish horror movie, “Horror Express” (also known as “Panic on the Trans-Siberian”) starring Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee. Little was changed about their decoration, and the film provides not only an interesting and compelling story but also much better glimpses of the train interiors than in “Nicholas and Alexandra.”
Special care was taken with the costuming of the film. John Mollo served as the uniform and military advisor, while Yvonne Blake created most of the gowns, ordinary dresses, and uniforms. To design the gowns worn by Alexandra and Marie Feodorovna, Spiegel commissioned Antonio Castillo, who had formerly headed the Costillo-Lanvin couture house in Paris, as well as working on costumes for the Metropolitan Opera in New York City and La Scala in Milan.
“He was an angel,” says Suzman of Costillo, “and yet an absolute martinet about the cut; knew everything there was to know about the period, the fabrics, etc. If a seam was a millimeter out of true, he would go mad. No expense was spared on the look. The jewels were copied one third smaller than their actual size, as they would otherwise appear too vulgar on 35 mm film. I once asked him if I might have a full-length mink cape for the Empress; ‘My God!’ he replied, ‘sable for the Empress, mink for the coachman!’ The corseting and the gowns were absolute hell to wear for a whole day of filming; special leaning chairs were built for us to take the weight on set during the interminable set-ups. Freddie Young was a superb Director of Photography, very thorough and took a long time to light each shot. It was tiring.”(15) Nevertheless, there were some minor discrepancies in the film’s wardrobe, notably in the Red Cross uniforms worn by Alexandra and her daughters during the First World War, which were modeled on those worn by British rather than Russian nurses.
Filming took six months in Spain. “Sam Spiegel was a most exacting producer;” says Suzman, “with his eye for detail and constant search for dramatic, yet spectacular, truths were sometimes tiring; there would not be a day when he was not on the set, monitoring and checking. The director, Franklin Schaffner, often, I felt, had to keep his impatience in check, but he was always the gentleman through and through. I admired and liked Spiegel, however; if he was ever a monster to others he never was to me, to give him his due.”(16) Suzman was fortunate, for Spiegel and Schaffner turned the set into a virtual war zone; the situation became so intense and their arguments so heated that a representative from Columbia Pictures had to be dispatched from Los Angeles to Spain to arbitrate their disputes over the film.(17)The finished film proved somewhat problematic. One of the problems arose from the sheer scope of the motion picture. Rather than focus narrowly on the private lives of Nicholas and Alexandra, the script injected the larger political and socio-economic issues of Imperial Russia into the film; given the film’s length, however, this meant that they could not be fully explored, and their appearance often interrupts the dramatic flow of the story. Issues such as the Russian-Japanese War, the 1905 Revolution, and Bloody Sunday all feature in the narrative, but their treatment is so cursory that they do little to add a sense of epic sweep. Then, too, the film digresses several times to follow Lenin in exile, the founding of the Bolshevik Party, and the organization of the revolutionary movement; while well-shot and scripted, these issues arise rather too abruptly and are just as quickly abandoned in favor of returning to a purely domestic portrait of Nicholas and Alexandra. Nicholas is shown reacting to the disasters of the Russian-Japanese War, to Bloody Sunday, and to revolutionary and terrorist threats in a way that paints him both sympathetically and ultimately not responsible for his own reign. Massie’s book was not a political history of the last days of Imperial Russia, nor a biography of Nicholas II as a ruler, but rather the story of a family, so perhaps the film cannot be faulted for its concentration, yet its unfailing, open sympathy for the monarchs is somewhat awkward.
This divided focus meant that these important issues, along with questions of poverty, child labor, and the plight of peasants and factory workers, only make the most shallow of appearances; because it is a film focused primarily on the domestic life of Nicholas and Alexandra, perhaps it was too much to also tackle the circumstances of his reign that led to the February Revolution, and the film might have been more successful had it confined these events to Nicholas’s understanding of and reaction to them, without attempting to draw them in as subplots to the main story. The clear intent, however-as in Massie’s book-was not a socio-economic or political history of the Emperor’s reign, but rather an emotional, sympathetic evocation of his private family life. Thus, while certain scenes mentioned above present Nicholas as completely ineffectual, the bulk of the film conveys the message that he was essentially a good man, a loving husband, and doting father; these conflicting messages within the film might well reflect something of the enigmatic nature of Nicholas II and his reign, but the effect is to leave a fragmented depiction with no clear point of view with which the audience can identify. Jayston’s performance as Nicholas II is a very good one, though his Nicholas II-perhaps like the real man himself-engenders little sympathy, particularly when the viewer is left with the sense that all of his downfalls and the ultimate fate of his family could so easily have been avoided had the Emperor just once listened to any of the wise men around him like Witte. What the film does convey is Nicholas II’s inability to come to terms with the changing world around him; blinded by the manner in which he had been raised and stubbornly holding firm to his belief that his was a role predestined by God, the Emperor never seems to be able to do the right thing, to think independently, to escape from a self-created mythology that enabled his passivity and empowered his resignation as “God’s will.”
Suzman’s portrayal of Alexandra is even less sympathetic; while the actress admits that she found the Empress a cold woman, the fault rests with the script. The Empress in “Nicholas and Alexandra” is, if anything, even more resolutely stubborn than her husband, at times a nagging shrew convinced that she knows what is best for Russia. Again, there is a fair amount of truth in this depiction, though Alexandra was far more complicated than the women presented here. The motion picture, not unnaturally, centers her role around the health of her son and her reliance on Rasputin; the former helps to evoke some sympathy, but her militant attitude in supporting the latter undermines whatever strides the film makes in connecting viewers with the character on an emotional level. In private she can be warm and loving, yet she also comes across as an emotional dominatrix, who hounded her husband into destroying her adopted country. As protagonists, neither Nicholas nor Alexandra are especially sympathetic characters as presented in the film and, though the performances of the two leads, particularly that of Suzman, are excellent, the inability to offer any emotional connection undermines the film’s conceit. Although both succeed in conveying the strong love that bound the Imperial couple, “Nicholas and Alexandra” also offers glimpses at some of the pressures under which the real Emperor and Empress must have lived. This Nicholas and Alexandra fight and argue, and several of the film’s most powerful scenes come when the main characters are in conflict. This was an attempt to present them and their problems in terms with which the audience itself might identify. While perhaps a little over-dramatic, undoubtedly such collisions did indeed take place-witness Nicholas II’s casual remark (not included in the film), “Better ten Rasputins than fits of hysterics all day.” These scenes reflect one of the often-ignored realities in the lives of Nicholas and Alexandra, and in the ordinary turmoil and strife that occasionally visited their relationship viewers catch a glimpse of identifiable situations that serve to make the protagonists recognizably human.
Although Roderic Noble’s Alexei was the center, as in real life, of the Romanovs’ family life, his character was never quite fleshed out; only in one scene during their imprisonment at Tobolsk does he take on any life. Clearly frustrated, he rides his wooden sled down a staircase, an actual event described by Dr. Botkin to his two children as perhaps a burst of youthful exuberance but here presented somewhat more enigmatically. In the aftermath, injured and in pain, he tearfully confronts his father’s decision to abdicate on his behalf; the poignancy of a life cut short is evident, and it lends a hint of his personality. The four Grand Duchesses are treated even more cavalierly, serving as mere background ornaments in most scenes. Between them, they have a few scenes that depict them as pleasant young women (when they are small, they are only glimpsed from a distant window, playing in the snow) who tease each other and engage in a paint fight. Other important characters like Anna Vyrubova are dispensed with altogether.
Sir Laurence Olivier’s performance as Serge Witte amounts to little more than three scenes, yet he is utterly memorable. In the first, he challenges Nicholas over the futility of the Russian-Japanese War, and we identify with his sense of logical desperation over the Emperor’s stubborn march toward defeat, while in the second Nicholas confronts him in the wake of “Bloody Sunday,” accusing him of responsibility; Witte ably turns the tables on the Emperor, pointing out that responsibility lies with the Crown. But it is his last scene that is the most memorable, when he argues against Russian mobilization in the days leading up to the First World War. He counsels, he pleads, he tries to appeal to Nicholas on every level to avoid disaster and, when the inevitable happens and war is declared, his is the sole voice of reason in a room of happily enthusiastic generals. It is a magnificent speech, poignant and one of the film’s true highlights.
Some scenes in the film, though based in fact, are more fanciful than accurate. Such is the depiction of Rasputin’s murder. Rather than a nervous Prince Felix Yusupov confronting the peasant in the basement of his palace, here we see a thoroughly debauched Felix and his compatriot, a maliciously charming Grand Duke Dimitri, in a haze of opium smoke as they entertain Rasputin while feeding him poisoned cakes and wine. Rasputin survives the poison, is shot, escapes into a carriage house, is shot several more times, and is finally beaten with heavy chains by a Grand Duke Dimitri clearly in the thrall of some sadistic, orgiastic fantasy. Janet Suzman recalls, “Spiegel changed his mind several times about how his death scene should be rendered, spicing it up with rather explicit (for the times) gay sexual innuendo.”(18)For some reason, perhaps to heighten the contrast between their former lives and the period of exile, the producers elected to depict the Governor’s House in Tobolsk as an uncomfortable, rustic peasant hut of rough logs rather than a large mansion furnished with Oriental carpets and crystal chandeliers. The exterior recreation of the Ipatiev House at least imitated some of the ornate detail that graced the actual building, though the interior sets showed a series of barren rooms with ramshackle and indifferent furnishings in contrast to the real “House of Special Purpose.”
The film’s final scene, the execution of the Imperial Family was effective for its time yet today is frustratingly unrealistic. As the Imperial Family is ushered into the basement room of the Ipatiev House to await transfer, we sense their anxiety, and a clock on the opposite wall frustratingly marks out the passing minutes of uncertainty before Yurovsky and his men enter and open fire. Alexei, sitting on his father’s lap, quickly kisses him, Alexandra crosses herself, and the Grand Duchesses hug each other before a bullet rips through Nicholas’s hand; a quick edit cuts away from any additional violence, however, and the rest of the scene plays out as Yurovsky and his men progress toward the camera, firing their guns, before the clearing smoke reveals a wall pocked with bullet holes and blood stains. It is on this scene that the film dissolves, a powerful, final depiction of the end of the Romanov Dynasty. Apparently the emotion of the scene proved too much for several of the young actresses playing the Grand Duchesses, who promptly burst into tears once the director yelled, “Cut!”(19)For all of the care taken on an exquisite cast, lavish costumes and luxurious sets, however, the film managed to miss several important historical characters, overtly-dramatized genuine episodes, and disregarded dates and times in an effort to heighten the storyline. Anna Vyrubova, for example, was not portrayed as a character at all, while Stolypin is seen traveling with the Imperial Family during the Tercentenary Tour of 1913, a full two years after his assassination in 1911. And in the final scene, Janet Suzman crossed herself in the Catholic manner, left to right, rather than in the Orthodox fashion as she had done through the rest of the film.
“Nicholas and Alexandra” clearly aimed for epic status, but by the time of its release on December 13, 1971 (ironically, fifteen years to the day that the 1956 Ingrid Bergman film “Anastasia” was released in theaters), the era of the epic was quickly passing. The effect of the picture was to abandon the larger scope of history for domesticity, and this focus, intended to evoke an emotional response, instead somewhat crippled the movie. The performances, the settings, the costumes, and the music were exceptional, but as history it never quite manages to achieve that which presumably it set out to do. The external dressings of the film, given a fetishistic quality through continual observation, serve to distract briefly from the lack of content, but ultimately it remains a curious anachronism. The film’s somewhat mannered feel and deliberately nostalgic evocation of an era of epic productions seemed even more at odds when one considers that it appeared in the same year as such daring movies as “Klute,” “A Clockwork Orange,” “Straw Dogs,” “Shaft,” and “The French Connection.” Had it appeared ten years earlier, it would undoubtedly have been heralded as a true cinematic masterpiece; unfortunately it was out of date even before filming began. Thus, the critics were nearly uniform in the opinions, praising some of the individual performances like that of Suzman, the sets, and the costumes, while ultimately dismissing it as (kindly) unconvincing and (unkindly) a tedious and boring waste of three hours. In the end, it proved a financial disaster, and Columbia severed its long relationship with Spiegel over its commercial failure.(20)The film received seven Academy Award nominations, including Best Picture, Best Cinematography, Best Original Musical Score and Best Producer. Janet Suzman was nominated for Best Actress for her portrayal of Alexandra. “It’s always a surprise,” she says of her nomination, “and always a thrill, and hardly ever warranted. I didn’t think for a moment I would win, however and prepared no speech, and was delighted that Jane Fonda won [for “Klute”].”(21) The film did win two well-deserved Oscars for Best Art Direction and Best Costume Design.
“Nicholas and Alexandra,” for all of its flaws, remains an affecting, visually stunning film, the most complete depiction of the reign of Nicholas II ever put on screen. It should be pointed out that the film has recently been released on DVD, and this version contains certain lost scenes, which were edited out of the video version, but which usually appear when the film is presented in its entire length on television. These include a long conversation between Nicholas and Alexandra following Alexei’s birth, which takes place in their bedroom; some of the scenes depicting Lenin and the rise of the Bolshevik Party in exile; several scenes at Livadia with the Emperor and Empress; the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand of Austria-Hungary; scenes at Spala during the crisis there in 1912; and several scenes in the Ipatiev House, including one highly controversial (and fictional) moment when Tatiana exposes herself to one of their guards. The DVD release includes an 18-minute feature narrated by the late actress Lynne Frederick on the making of the film, as well as the original theatrical trailer, though sadly, no commentaries.
WAR AND PEACE 1972
UK, 1972. BBC Television Production. Miniseries. Drama; color; English language; 12 hours; Directed by John Howard Davies; Screenplay by Jack Pulman, from the novel by Leo Tolstoy. Starring Anthony Hopkins as Pierre Bezuhov, Morag Hood as Natasha Rostova, Alan Dobie as Prince Andrei Bolkonsky, Angela Down as Princess Maria Bolkonskya, Sylvester Morand as Nikolai Rostov, Joanna David as Sonya, Rupert Davies as Count Rostov, Faith Brook as Countess Rostova, Anthony Jacobs as Prince Bolkonsky, Frank Middlemass as General Michael Kutuzov, David Swift as Napoleon, Colin Baker as Anatole Kuragin, Fiona Gaunt as Heléne Kuragina, and Donald Douglas as Tsar Alexander I.
A British miniseries adapted from Tolstoy’s novel, with high production values and excellent acting.
IVAN VASILEVICH: MANYAET PROFESSIYU 1973
Also known as “Ivan Vassilievich: Back to the Future” (US). USSR, 1973. Comedy/Science-Fiction. Color and black and white; Russian and German language (English subtitles); Running time: 93 minutes; Directed by Leonid Gaidai; Screenplay by Vladlen Bakhnov. Starring Aleksandr Demyanenko as Engineer Alexander Timofeyev, Yuri Yakovlev as Ivan Vassilievich Bunsha/Ivan the Terrible, Leonid Kuravlyov as George Miloslavsky/Prince Miloslavsky, and Sergei Filippov as the Swedish ambassador.
A film where a young engineer invents a time machine and returns to the reign of Ivan the Terrible.
FALL OF EAGLES 1974
UK, 1974. BBC Television production; color; English language; 13 episodes; Running time: 50 minutes per episode; Directed by Stuart Burge, David Cunliffe, Gareth Davies, James Ferman, Bill Hays, Michael Lindsay-Hogg, Donald McWhinnie, David Sullivan Proudfoot, and Rudolph Cartier; Produced by Stuart Burge; Screenplay by John Elliot, Hugh Whitemore, Elizabeth Holford, David Turner, Trevor Griffiths, Jack Pulman, Troy Kennedy Martin, Robert Muller, Ken Hughes and Keith Dewhurst; Original score by Kenneth Platts; Cinematography by A. A. Englander and Peter Sargent; Production Design by Allan Anson, Peter Brachaki, Peter Kindred, Chris Pemsel, Moira Tait, and Fanny Taylor; Costume Design by Daphne Dare and Robin Fraser-Paye; Uniforms by Penny Lowe. Starring (selected cast only): Michael Aldridge as Rasputin, Piers Flint-Shipman as Tsesarevich Alexei, John Barcroft as Eulenberg, Michael Bates as Von Ludendorff, Henrietta Baynes as Grand Duchess Tatiana Nikolaievna, Isla Blair as Grand Duchess Elisabeth Feodorovna (Ella), Robert Brown as Grand Duke Serge Alexandrovich, Michael Bryant as Ratchkowsky, Hugh Burden as Protopopov, Prue Clarke as Grand Duchess Marie Nikolaievna, Kenneth Colley as Father George Gapon, David Collings as Miliukov, Rosalie Crutchley as Grand Duchess Vladimir, Maurice Denham as Kaiser Wilhelm I, Ed Devereaux as Count Pourtales, David Dodimead as Kokovtsov, Paul Eddington as Plekhanov, Mavis Edwards as Queen Victoria, Lynn Farleigh as Krupskaya, Barry Foster as Kaiser Wilhelm II, Derek Francis as Edward VII, Jan Francis as Mathilde Kschessinska, Marius Goring as Von Hindenburg, Charles Gray as Rodzianko, Rachel Gurney as Empress Elisabeth of Austria, Irene Hamilton as Baroness Vetsera, Ursula Howells as Dowager Empress Marie Feodorovna, Gayle Hunnicutt as Empress Alexandra, Tony Jay as Alexander III, Freddie Jones as Witte, Curd Jürgens as Otto von Bismarck, Charles Kay as Nicholas II, Michael Kitchen as Trotsky, Denis Lill as Kaiser Friedrich Wilhelm III, Miriam Margolyes as Anna Vyrubova, Frank Middlemass as Stolypin, Frank Mills as Trepov, Martha Nairn as Grand Duchess Olga Nikolaievna, Laurence Naismith as Emperor Franz Josef of Austria-Hungary, John Nightingale as Grand Duke Serge Mikhailovich, Jim Norton as Kerensky, Eve Pearce as Kaiserin Augusta Viktoria, John Phillips as Grand Duke Nicholas Nikolaievich, Bruce Purchase as Von Plehve, Howard Rawlinson as Grand Duke Konstantin Konstantinovich, Patrick Stewart as Lenin, Nigel Stock as General Alexeiev, Kevin Stoney as Father Ioann of Kronstadt, David Swift as Trepov, Susan Tracy as Crown Princess Stephanie of Austria, Peter Vaughan as Izvolsky, Pippa Vickers as Grand Duchess Anastasia Nikolaievna, and Peter Woodthorpe as Archduke Franz Ferdinand.
This series covered the downfall of the Habsburg, Hohenzollern and Romanov Dynasties in great detail. The thirteen episodes were as follows: “Death Waltz,” concerning Franz Josef and Empress Elizabeth of Austria; “The English Princess,” about Emperor Frederick III and Empress Victoria of Germany; “The Honest Broker,” concerning Prussian politics; “Requiem for a Crown Prince,” about Crown Prince Rudolf’s suicide at Mayerling; “The Last Tsar,” focusing on the youth and accession of Nicholas II; “Absolute Beginners,” a study of the Russian monarchy under Nicholas II and the lives of political exiles Lenin and Trotsky; “Dearest Nicky,” concerning the Russian-Japanese War; “The Appointment,” which tells the story of the terrorist network under Azev and the Russian Revolution of 1905; “Dress Rehearsal,” concerning the Balkan crisis in the years before the First World War; “Indian Summer of an Emperor,” dealing with Franz Josef and his relations with his nephew Archduke Franz Ferdinand; “Tell the King the Sky is Falling,” about the outbreak of World War I; “The Secret War,” concerning the life of the dynasties in the war years; and “End Game,” a wrap-up of the fates of the various sovereigns and their families.
Of the thirteen episodes, seven dealt with the Romanov Dynasty. Much of the series focused on political issues and diplomatic developments, featuring the key political players of the day in prominent roles. At the same time, the human drama-Alexandra’s dislike of Russian society, the birth and hemophilia of Tsesarevich Alexei, and the rise of Rasputin-were not ignored. Nicholas II is depicted as a stubborn man, politically immature and-as in real life-a monarch who simply reacted to events rather than anticipating problems and proposing solutions. At the same time, Alexandra is shown as a woman of limited intellect but one determined to impose her own will on her husband and on her adopted country. The Imperial couple’s complete detachment from the reality of their situation is thus revealed, though the Romanovs are certainly not the only monarchs that are exposed to such scrutiny. On the other hand, Kaiser Wilhelm II is here treated with an agreeable sense of complexity; he is not the bullying villain of many other productions, but a well-meaning though ultimately impotent force in the tide that led to the outbreak of the First World War. The performances were uniformly excellent, and the story-which could have proved too immense to hold interest-sharply and dramatically told.
The entire series was filmed in England. Holkham Hall in Norfolk and Harewood House in Yorkshire served as the Winter and Alexander Palaces, with additional scenes shot at Syon House outside of London, Hevingham Hall, Powis Castle, Cragside, and Ickworth. In general, the series’ designer Chris Pemsel took great pains in his studio sets to at least reproduce aspects of known interiors, such as the paneled corner of Alexandra’s Mauve Boudoir in the Alexander Palace. The costumes, by Robin Fraser, and uniforms by Penny Lowe, were also copied from authentic models.
“Fall of Eagles” remains a highly erudite production; if “Nicholas and Alexandra” is the most definitive account of the human side of Nicholas II's reign to date, then “Fall of Eagles” certainly stands as the best political biography of the last Emperor and his times.
DMITRIY KANTEMIR 1974
USSR, 1974. Drama. Color; Russian language; Running time: Unknown; Directed by Vlad Iovitse and Vitali Kalashnikov; Screenplay by Vlad Iovitse. Starring Mihai Volontir as Dmitri Kantemir, and Aleksandr Lazarev as Peter the Great.
A historical picture set in the reign of Peter the Great.
EDWARD THE SEVENTH 1975
Also known as “Edward the King” (US title). UK, 1975. BBC Television production; color; English language; Running time: 11 hours; Directed by John Gorrie; Screenplay by David Butler and John Gorrie; Produced by Cecil Clarke and Lorna Mason; Original Score by Cyril Ornadel; Cinematography by Tony Imi; Costume Design by Ann Hollowood, Sue Le Cash, and Christine Wilson. Starring (selected cast only): Timothy West as Edward VII, Annette Crosbie as Queen Victoria, Helen Ryan as Queen Alexandra; Michael Billington as Nicholas II, Meriel Brook as Empress Alexandra, Jane Lapotaire as Empress Marie Feodorovna of Russia, Christopher Neame as Kaiser Wilhelm II, Bruce Purchase as Alexander III, and Gwyneth Strong as Young Minny.
A series that chronicled the life of Edward VII from birth to death, “Edward the Seventh” was another, lavish BBC-produced television production much like “Fall of Eagles.” As a series, it was somewhat less successful: the early episodes, detailing Bertie’s childhood and youth, suffered from a lack of dramatic tension, and only the excellent performances, especially that of Annette Crosbie as Queen Victoria, carried the viewer through. Once Bertie marries Alix of Denmark, the action picks up, but perhaps out of consideration for the Royal Family, the screenwriters did not delve too deeply into the Prince’s four decades of personal indulgence, affairs, and gambling, which again lessened the dramatic tension and served to make the vivid character of the Prince of Wales somewhat lifeless. Timothy West, who played Dr. Eugene Botkin in 1971’s “Nicholas and Alexandra,” gave a superb performance as Bertie, though he was somewhat hampered by the script in giving the Prince the full range of emotions. As Alexandra, Helen Ryan did a magnificent job in conveying the beautiful but at times infuriatingly childlike Princess of Wales.
The Romanovs appear as characters briefly throughout. Scenes set in 1860s Copenhagen include Gwyneth Strong as a young Minny, and the character is revived throughout in the performance of Jane Lapotaire as Marie Feodorovna, while Alexander III appears in several episodes. Nicholas II and Empress Alexandra appear twice. The first time records their September 1896 visit to Balmoral, the second their 1909 visit to Cowes. On the first occasion, Nicholas is an apparently affable man, though Alexandra is presented as somewhat stiff and awkward-a curious reversal of the historical reality, for at Balmoral Alexandra had returned to a place of familiar comfort from her childhood and youth, and it was Nicholas who felt himself out of sorts. Then, too, Michael Billington’s Nicholas II seems completely British and at ease, while his wife, who was raised under Queen Victoria’s tutelage and grew up speaking English, carries a heavy Teutonic accent. The scene at Balmoral takes place during the annual Ghillies’ Ball, and as they watch from the Ballroom’s dais, Queen Victoria asks her granddaughter if she knows what day it is. “Why, it’s Tuesday, Grandmama,” the Empress answers. But Queen Victoria points out that it is the day on which she has reigned longer than any other British sovereign as if, given the immense amount of publicity that surrounded the actual visit and its coinciding with the date, Alexandra was completely unaware of the fact.
The scene in 1909 at Cowes presents Alexandra as a remote, emotionally withdrawn woman who nervously fidgets over the health of her hemophiliac son; this is, in fact, how many of those involved in both the 1908 British visit to Reval in Russia and the 1909 Russian visit to Cowes later remembered the real Empress, including one stunned British dignitary who found her alone on the deck of the yacht, crying uncontrollably. Nicholas, on the other hand, seems more amiable, and in both scenes appears to take his uncle Bertie’s advice about the need for reform in Russia, in complete contrast to the historical record that the Emperor rejected any such overtures regarding political change in his own country.
Despite the brief appearances by the Romanovs, and the somewhat too reverential approach to Bertie’s life, “Edward the Seventh” remains a stellar, entertaining piece of work that manages to carefully evoke a sense of period.
ZVEZDA PLENITELNOGO SCHASTYA 1975
Also known as “The Star of Fascinating Happiness.” USSR, 1975. Drama. Color; Russian language; Running time: 167 minutes; Directed by Vladimir Motyl; Screenplay by Vladimir Motyl and Oleg Osetinsky. Starring Aleksey Batalov as Trubetskoy, Oleg Strizhenov as Volkonsky, and Vasili Livanov as Nicholas I.
A retelling of the Decembrist Rebellion of 1825.
SKAZ PRO TO, KAK TSAR PYOTR ARAPA ZHENIL 1976
Also known as “Tsar Peter Arranges the Wedding of His Arab.” USSR, 1976. Musical-comedy. Color; Russian language; Running time: 100 minutes; Directed by Alexander Mitta; Screenplay by Yuli Dunsky and Valeri Frid. Starring Alexei Petrenko as Peter I, and Vladimir Vysotsky as Ibrahim.
Peter the Great takes a Russian man of African heritage, Ibrahim Hannibal, under his wing as he builds his navy. After a disastrous affair in France, Ibrahim vows to never fall in love again, until he sees the daughter of a wealthy boyar. Peter the Great insists the two be married, but Ibrahim goes against the Emperor’s wishes, refusing to force her to marry him since she doesn’t consent. When another man tries to marry her, however, Ibrahim agrees to do as Peter asks.
Also known as “Trust.” Finland/USSR, 1976. Drama. Color; Finnish and Russian languages; Running time: 95 minutes; Directed by Edvin Laine and Viktor Tregubovich; Screenplay by Väinö Linna and Vladlen Loginov. Starring Kirill Lavrov as Lenin, Igor Dmitriyev as Bonch-Brunevich, Margarita Terekhova as Aleksandra Kollontai, Antonina Shuranova as Rosa Luxemburg, Yuri Demich as Nicholas II, and Innokenti Smoktunovsky as Governor General Nicholas Bobrikov.
A History of Finnish rebellion and independence in the 20th Century.
GROZNY VEK 1976
Also known as “Ivan the Terrible” (UK/US title). USSR, 1976. Drama. Color; Russian language; Running time: 105 minutes (some prints edited to 91 minutes); Directed by Vadim Derbenyov and Yuri Grigorovich; Screenplay by Vadim Derbenyov and Yuri Grigorovich. Starring Natalya Bessmertnova as Anastasia Romanov and Yuri Vladimirov as Ivan the Terrible.
Set to the music Sergei Prokofiev composed for Eisenstein’s “Ivan the Terrible,” this is a retelling of the familiar story through dance. Essentially a filmed ballet, it relies on the performances of its principal dancers in the roles of Ivan and Anastasia to convey the drama.
DULCE ANASTASIA 1977
Argentina, 1977. Drama. Black and white; Running time: 90 minutes; Spanish language; Directed by Alberto Rinaldi; Screenplay by Carlos Lozano Dana. Starring Graciela Borges as Anastasia.
Another version of the Anastasia story.
Also known as “The Agony” and “Rasputin.” USSR, 1977 (Not released until 1981 in USSR). Drama. Color, with black and white sequences; Russian language, with English language subtitles; Running time: 156 minutes (original director’s cut), 148 minutes (theatrical cut), 114 minutes (DVD/Video release); Directed by Elem Klimov; Screenplay by Semyon Lungin and Ilya Nusinov; Cinematography by Leonid Kalashnikov; Original score by Alfred Schnitke. Starring Aleksei Petrenko as Rasputin, Anatoli Romashin as Nicholas II, Velta Line as Empress Alexandra, Alisa Frejndlikh as Anna Vyrubova, Aleksandr Romantsov as Prince Felix Yusupov, Yuri Katin-Yartsev as Purishkevich, Leonid Bronevoy as Manasevich-Manuilov, Pavel Pankov as Manus, and Mikhail Danilov as Prince Andronnikov.
“Agoniya” opens with a monochromatic sweep of Imperial Russia in 1916; it is the third year of the First World War, and contemporary newsreel footage moves the narrative from the initial optimism that greeted the outbreak of hostilities to the military setbacks and sense of demoralization that pervaded the country after months of disappointments. The background of Imperial Russia is quickly sketched in, also using newsreels and black and white photographs. The poverty and despair of the peasants gives way to a view of the grandeur of the Imperial Court, glimpsed in rare footage and a series of photographs depicting Nicholas and Alexandra. As the narrative turns to the film’s central focus, we see photographs of Rasputin, combined with black and white footage of Petrenko as the Siberian peasant, as the bare facts of his life are conveyed and he is placed within the context of 1916 Russia.
This opening and its narrative suggest that it is Rasputin and his pernicious influence that ultimately leads Russia to the abyss; in this, he is depicted as a malignant force, rather than a symptom of a corrupt and outmoded system teetering on the brink. The rest of the film follows much along this same vein, depicting the peasant as an unwitting incompetent whose tragic influence on the equally disastrous Empress Alexandra subverted the natural course of events. In this respect, the film “twins” Rasputin and Alexandra as outside, subversive influences who together wrought tragedy. There is a sense that, but for their meddling, Russia might have survived and the monarchy, under the leadership of Nicholas II, remained intact. This presentation of the pair as somehow outside the bounds of “real” Russians reflected a certain view that may have pervaded Soviet views; it was also certainly echoed in many works of Western history a well, and even today, in an environment in which the Romanovs have largely been rehabilitated, the Empress especially is inevitably seen as an unwelcome interloper who, through her failure to understand Russia, led her husband to disaster. While there is certainly some truth in this view, it ignores Nicholas II’s own ineptitude, but it has always been easier to absolve the Emperor of responsibility for his disastrous reign than face his own incompetence.
In “Agoniya,” Rasputin is a man at war with himself, and Petrenko creates a complex portrait of the man that rings true. His Rasputin essentially drifts from scene to scene, an unknowing victim of circumstance and clearly unable to understand the forces that both tempt and betray him. He is dazzled by the rich and powerful of St. Petersburg, amazed at the contrast with his life in Siberia (which we briefly see when he returns to Pokrovskoye to visit his family midway through the film), and a victim in many ways of those who surround him with attention. He comes to believe their adoration is justified, and his struggle between the religious forces in his life and the temptations of his privileged position becomes the central focus of the story. In this, Rasputin is clearly a sympathetic figure. He falls victim to his own propaganda, yet is never presented as a complete charlatan; he has visions, hears voices, prays, falls into mystical depressions, and then, in complete contrast, spends his nights drinking and bedding eager women. This Rasputin is a lost soul, with no clear boundaries, and no sense of direction; he stumbles from incident to incident, not knowing what it all means and relying on his peasant intuition and on half-understood spiritual visions to guide him through this personal minefield.
The portrayals of the Romanovs proved especially difficult. Klimov shot the film in 1976, at a time when the subject of Nicholas and Alexandra was considered anathema in the Soviet Union, and he took enormous risks in his presentation. Nicholas II, for example, is seen as a basically decent man who loves his family and his country and, to his detriment, his wife; he is less an ineffectual ruler than he is an impotent force in the face of the onslaught of Rasputin and Alexandra. Soviet censors were apparently quite upset at this, and Klimov had to re-cut several scenes to edit out the more overt sympathetic depictions, but what remains is a rather accurate picture given the strictures under which the director was forced to work.
Klimov’s portrait of Alexandra is less reliable; perhaps this is not surprising, given that she was viewed as an outsider, a foreigner (in this film, she primarily speaks German, in contrast to the historical record, to further indicate her isolation from the Russian people). She is also a hysterical, superstitious woman completely dependent on Rasputin for the health of her son. While this characterization is not entirely off the mark, some of the film’s depictions are absurdly broad: in one scene, Alexandra is shown in religious ecstasy praying before an icon that features Rasputin instead of Christ while, in another, after the peasant’s murder, she coldly declares, “I hate this country.” The figures of Prince Felix Yusupov and Grand Duke Dimitri are minor considerations in the film, useful and used only to move the story along to its denouement and the eventual murder in 1916. The character of Anna Vyrubova, too, is depicted as a cunning, malicious woman who shares equal blame with the Empress and Rasputin for the Revolution.
At the center of the film is Petrenko’s performance as Rasputin, and it is here that Klimov has his greatest success. Petrenko brings to the part a sense of vulnerability coupled with real magnetism that makes his Rasputin a believable figure. His struggles with religion and temptation seem real and complex, and he is nothing less than charismatic even when he is at his most cynical, a contrast from the usual portrayals of him as a barbaric, drunken, snarling letch. It is a powerful performance, impressionistic in places, but ultimately one that captivates and manages to convey a real sense of the actual peasant. It is perhaps the finest depiction of Rasputin captured on screen, and certainly the one that seems to come closest to the reality of the man.
In keeping with this depiction, the film is shot in a fragmented, often startling manner; it is less a linear narrative than it is a series of vivid scenes strung together to convey the inexorable force of Rasputin’s influence. After the opening narrative, it encompasses a stunning, snow-covered scene at Mon Plaisir at Peterhof, where we see members of the Imperial Family painting, walking, and gathering. There is a disjointed quality to it the film, and it is highly impressionistic in its approach rather than straightforward drama. Klimov uses rapid-fire editing, cuts back and forth between actual contemporary newsreel footage and new color scenes, and uses a variety of technical innovations to invest the film with a schizophrenic quality that echoes Rasputin’s own dichotomy. The peasant’s confrontation by members of the Orthodox Church is brilliantly conceived, a sudden eruption of violence shot in quick edits and dramatic flashes of color interposed with black and white. This is followed by one of the film’s most stunning sequences, where a disgraced Rasputin crawls through the mud toward the Catherine Palace at Tsarskoye Selo, arriving in the Imperial apartments to supplicate himself before the Emperor and Empress; as he does so, the film shifts between black and white and color, using red filters and distorting lenses to convey the chaos of the scene as Rasputin falls into a seizure. It is a piece of masterful filmmaking and one of the motion picture’s most dramatic moments.
Aside from the opening scenes at Peterhof, Klimov also shot his film in many authentic locations. Rasputin’s old, third floor apartment at No. 64 Gorokhovaya in St. Petersburg was used as his flat, lending the film an air of authenticity in surroundings notably lacking in other motion pictures on the peasant. The Feodorovsky Gorodok at Tsarskoye Selo provides a suitable backdrop of crumbling, pseudo-medieval Russian grandeur for several scenes, including those with Rasputin and the Tibetan Dr. Badmayev, while Grand Duke Alexei Alexandrovich’s Palace on the Moika served as the backdrop for some of the scenes between Prince Felix Yusupov and his group of conspirators. The rooms of Nicholas and Alexandra, by contrast, were apparently not modeled on actual apartments, and bear little resemblance, except in their claustrophobic, icon-covered walls, to the historical models. The final scenes, depicting Rasputin’s murder, were filmed at the Yusupov Palace on the Moika Canal in St. Petersburg where the actual event took place. Klimov used the same basement room in which Felix had attempted to kill the peasant, though this was many years before its restoration and it looks far gloomier than it actually was on the night in question. One noticeable error in an otherwise careful selection of locations was the fact that Klimov elected to shoot Rasputin’s desperate escape from the basement of the Moika Palace using the larger, circular rear courtyard of the palace rather than the actual side yard in which the peasant was shot.
Also known as “Emelyan Pugachev.” USSR, 1978. Drama. Color; Russian language; Running time: 147 minutes; Directed by Alexei Saltykov; Screenplay by Edvard Volodarsky. Starring Viya Artmare as Empress Catherine, Anatoli Azo as Gregory Orlov, and Yevgeni Matveyev as Pugachev.
A retelling of the coup attempt by Pugachev in the reign of Catherine the Great.
1. “Nicholas and Alexandra,” Pressbook, Columbia Pictures, Englewood, New Jersey: Charnall Theatrical Enterprises, Inc., 1971, 2.
3. Andrew Sinclair, “Spiegel: The Man Behind the Pictures,” Boston: Little, Brown, 1987, 124.
5. “Nicholas and Alexandra,” Pressbook, 21.
6. Janet Suzman to author.
7. “Nicholas and Alexandra,” Pressbook, 15.
8. “My Empress,” a pseudo-memoir published shortly after the Revolution that purported to be written by a member of Alexandra’s household.
9. Janet Suzman to author.
11. Variety, August 5, 1970.
12. “Nicholas and Alexandra,” Pressbook, 5.
13. Antonio Perez Caballero to author.
14. Janet Suzman to author.
17. Sinclair, 126.
18. Janet Suzman to author.
20. Sinclair, 126.
21. Janet Suzman to author.
“The Romanovs in Film” is copyright 1999-2000, 2006 by Greg King. ISSN 1525-111X. All rights reserved. No part of this work may be produced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including copying, or by any information storage system and retrieval system, or computer system, without permission in writing from the copyright holder.