Where to begin with Aleksandr Rou

Revered in his Soviet homeland as ‘King of the Fairytales’, director Aleksandr Rou (1906 to 1973) deserves wider recognition as one of the world’s great masters of fantasy and fairytale cinema.

Rou’s distinctive and groundbreaking live-action features were hugely influential in shaping and popularising this genre across Russia and Eastern Europe, where their timeless charm has ensured his enduring reputation. By contrast, his work is undeservedly little known in the West, where it received very limited exposure. Fans of colourful and imaginative effects-laden fantasy have been missing out for far too long. Now, with streaming and DVD imports increasing accessibility, it’s high time to award Rou his place in the global canon.

If your first encounters with Soviet cinema followed the well-trodden British path, leaping straight from Sergei Eisenstein and his fellow silent montage pioneers to Andrei Tarkovsky’s appearance in the 1960s, you may have the impression that nothing notable happened in between. You might even be forgiven for imagining Soviet cinema an unremittingly sombre affair. That’s far from the full picture; there were simply few pre-streaming opportunities to explore its prolific range of comedies, musicals and fantasy films.

Rou’s movies sit squarely within that mainstream, crowd-pleasing tradition. During a directorial career stretching from 1937 to 1973 he became one of the most beloved creators of populist entertainment. As well as transforming the landscape of Soviet fantasy and fairytale cinema, his films anticipated the more internationally familiar live-action fairytale output of Czechoslovakia and East Germany’s DEFA studio.

Most of Rou’s 16 features drew on Russian and Slavic folklore, often adapted by leading screenwriters and dramatists of their day. Designed for audiences of all ages, these lively spectacles burst with eye-popping production design, sprightly comic performances and jaunty folk music. They remain celebrated for their lavish roster of inventive pre-digital effects, peppered liberally through stories characterised by heartfelt warmth and wit.

For many Anglophone viewers, raised largely on the French and German fairytale traditions of Charles Perrault and the Brothers Grimm, the characters and creatures of Russian folklore may feel as alien as Soviet popular cinema. Some westerners, encountering them for the first time in Rou’s most widely exported film, Jack Frost (1965), have reported finding it all quite odd. But if you’re yet to cross paths with the forest witch Baba Yaga, who lives in a hut that walks on giant chicken legs, just roll with it. After all, this is really no weirder than Puss in Boots. Look on Rou’s playful fantasies as a sparkling introduction to the Slavic nations’ rich folkloric traditions.

Vasilisa the Beautiful (1940), Rou’s second film and the Soviet Union’s first folkloric fantasy feature, makes an ideal entry point into his unique and enchanting cinematic world. Partly inspired by the traditional tale of ‘The Frog Princess’, it was a domestic smash hit. Yet, despite ranking as the third best-attended Soviet release of 1940, it never reached British or American cinemas.

The story follows a handsome and heroic young peasant, Ivan (Sergey Stolyarov), as he journeys to a dark and dangerous magical domain to rescue his stolen bride, Vasilisa (Valentina Sorogozhskaya), from the clutches of the three-headed dragon Gorynych and his sinister ally Baba Yaga (Georgiy Millyar).

A film of two halves, the first section gives full rein to Rou’s penchant for broad, satirical comedy. The class consciousness so central to socialist ideology is hard to miss, as cinema and politics were inextricably linked throughout the Soviet era – but Rou never let that stand in the way of entertaining storytelling.

During the second half, the tale becomes darker and more thrilling as Rou ramps up the fantasy production design, puppetry and magical effects. Hopefully you’ll admire the gigantic spider, which makes the famous arachnid from The Thief of Bagdad (1940) look like a poor relation.

If you enjoy Vasilisa then Rou’s fourth film, Kashchei the Immortal (1945), continues in a similar vein, reuniting its lead actors. Here, the legendary folk hero Nikita Kozhemyaka (Stolyarov) seeks to destroy the powerful demon Kashchei (Millyar), whose evil forces have ravaged his homeland. This wartime production was intended as an allegorical clarion call for resistance to the Nazi invasion, and its comedic scenes play second fiddle to the stirring action. For a lighter alternative, skip forward to Rou’s colourful Thaw-era fantasies of the late 1950s and beyond.

Many admirers would direct you first to Jack Frost (1965). Co-written by the brilliant duo of satirists Mikhail Vol’pin and Nikolai Erdman, this was a prizewinner at the 1965 Venice Film Festival. It remains, alongside Rou’s devilishly delicious rendition of Gogol’s Ukrainian folklore-based The Night Before Christmas (1961), a festive classic in Eastern Europe. 

Our own recommendation for your next watch is The Kingdom of Crooked Mirrors (1963), adapted from a 1951 fantasy novella by Vitali Gubarev. After a mischievous young girl steps through a magic mirror into a dystopian kingdom, she teams up with her reflection to rescue a boy persecuted by a corrupt regime. Concerns regarding the script’s political clarity led to a decade in development hell, and the film’s title has since entered the vocabulary of post-Soviet societal discontent.

Kingdom’s narrational tone is anything but serious, however, and on an aesthetic level it proves an absolute joy. Rou was a superb talent-spotter who worked repeatedly with his favoured cast and crew. Stunning production design by Arseni Klopotovsky impressive cinematographic effects by Leonid Akimov and a catchy score by Arkadi Filippenko (all serial collaborators) combine irresistibly with the effervescent debut performances of the eight-year-old Yukina twins.

Rou’s comedic fantasies grew increasingly outlandish as time went on. Through Fire, Water and… Brass Pipes (1968) will make you wonder whether somebody spiked your vodka, but if you’re happy to turn the psychotronic dial straight to 11 then be our guest. In addition to an outrageous Shrek-like roll call of modernised folkloric characters, its broad and brash humour is peppered with (pre-)Pythonesque social satire, surreal absurdity and even a trio of cackling, cross-dressed peasants.

Barbara the Fair with the Silken Hair (1970), a huge box office success for Rou, follows similar lines. Jokes centred on up-to-the-minute Soviet pop culture references may sometimes struggle to land for western viewers, however, and Rou’s late-career propensity for self-parody works best if you’ve already seen his early films. It’s all good fun, though, so start here if you must – just don’t say you weren’t warned! You’re in for a treat no matter where you begin with Aleksandr Rou.

Deborah Allison talks discusses her new book The Films of Aleksandr Rou – Father of Soviet Fairy-Tale Film at an event at BFI Reuben Library on 15 June.