Andrei Rublev Sanity Check

Andrei Rublev is a medieval painter known for his Catholic frescoes, and this is his three and a half hour, black and white life story.  Wait, where are you going?  No, 1966's Andrei Rublev is actually a fascinating early work by Andrei Tarkovsky that's full of life.  We've got naked pagans, invading mongrels, exhilarating balloon rides that remind me of the opening of 8 1/2, sadistic torture and great art.  Not to over-promise on the cheap thrills, this is a beautifully shot art film with lots of discourse on religious philosophy.  But it's not some boring biopic; it's a vibrant, impassioned film; a genuine masterwork if ever there was one.
a grim moment only seen in The Passion of Andrei cut
Criterion first released it on DVD back in 1999.  Artificial Eye later released it in the UK in 2002, and eventually beat Criterion to the blu-ray punch in 2016.  But both of their releases was a shorter cut, which... well, let's get into that.  Tarkovsky first released a 205 minute version (alternatively titled The Passion According To Andrei), which the Russian government censored, and made him make a 185 minute version.  So Criterion had released the uncut version and Artificial Eye released the cut version.  BUT, in later years, Tarkovsky has said in interviews that he prefers the shorter, tighter cut, so that's arguably his director's cut.  Fans were divided.  But in 2018, Criterion made the best choice and released both cuts on blu-ray in a definitive new, 2-disc set.
1) 1999 Criterion DVD; 2) 2018 Criterion 185m BD; 3) 2018 Criterion 205m BD.
All three discs present the film in roughly 2.35:1 (the 1999 DVD is 2.37:1), though you can see the original DVD was non-anamorphic, which is why I left the negative space around the first set of shots.  It's also cropped tighter around the sides compared to the blu-rays, both of which were restored in 2k. All the booklet says is that, "[t]his new digital transfer was created in high-definition resolution on a Spirit Datacine film scanner from a 35mm internegative and restored by Mosfilm."  It doesn't even hint at there being two different transfers, though these scans are clearly dissimilar (though they're both 2.35; you can see the framing is not identical).  My guess is that the longer version was scanned from a film print; it's much lower contrast, and fine detail like film grain is smoothed over, unlike the shorter cut.  They both blow the old DVD away, though, so even though it's inferior, you won't be dissatisfied cranking up either disc.

All three discs have the original Russian mono, in LPCM on the two blus, with optional English subtitles.  The subs on the extended cut blu-ray, unfortunately, are burnt in.  Though it's not too offensive, as we English speakers are unlikely to ever watch this film without subtitles, but they're optional on the shorter cut and the original DVD, which tells us the probably had a different source for the extended cut in 1999 than in 2018.
Now, the original DVD featured a partial (understandable, given this film's length) audio commentary by film scholar Vlada Petric.  It also had a featurette where Petric addresses the camera directly, interspersed with excerpts of Tarkovski being interviewed, taken from the 1984 documentary A Poet In the Cinema.  And it includes a fold-out booklet with notes by critic J. Hoberman.

Criterion updated their release for 2018 with a bunch of new stuff.  There;s a new featurette that interviews cinematographer Vadim Yusov and actor Nikolai Burlyaev (he played Boriska and had previously performed the titular leading role in Ivan's Childhood) and two vintage 1966 featurettes: one about the writing of the script, and a shorter one showing Tarkovski at work on location.  Then there's an interview with one expert and a visual essay by another.  There's the trailer, and they've also included Tarkovski's entire student film (many previous Tarkovsky films included a five minute clip), 1961's The Steamroller and the Violin.
1) 2002 Facets DVD; 2) 2018 Criterion BD.
Steamroller
had previously been available as a stand-alone DVD release from Facets Video, which yes, I do have.  It's completely barebones (except for some text menu stuff), so we just had the 46-minute film itself on the disc.  And as we can see here, it's clearly been restored since then.  Facets presents the film in 1.30:1, while Criterion offers it at 1.41:1.  Perhaps the biggest distinction is that the DVD was interlaced, which the BD corrects.  But we can also see the colors are less washed out, detail is clearer and there's even some soft film grain, which has been totally smoothed out of the SD transfer.  The two transfers seem to be taken from the same source, noting the identical film damage, but this is clearly a new scan giving us the film in proper HD.  Both discs just present the original Russian mono in lossy 2.0, but the subtitles are now removable, where they were previously burnt into the Facets.

Steamroller's not a terribly moving film or anything.  It's more of interest to Tarkovski scholars than general film fans (though I'm sure it's much better than anything most of us smart-ass critics could make, 'ey?), but it does display some of his talents and artistry that would flourish in his later works.  So it's nice to finally get it in HD.  The blu-ray also carries over the commentary, and upgrades the booklet to a fold-out poster with the same notes on the back.  But they did lose the featurette, which is a shame, since that gave us a chance to hear about this movie from Tarkovsky himself.  Maybe Criterion plans to slap the entire Poet In the Cinema doc on a future release?  Anyway, this is such an essential release that never seemed to get the coverage it deserved.  Blu-ray.com didn't even review it.  Are we living in crazy times?

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