TEACHER'S DAY

rockfilm.ru
(translation of an
Itogi magazine article from 07.04.2005)

"We have two problems – a lack of good screenplays and our habit of producing films only for home usage. It's wrong!" – says winner of the latest Moscow International Film Festival Aleksei Uchitel. The 27th MIFF ended with "Teacher's Day"*: the Golden Gheorghy went to the creator of Dreaming of Space. It's a paradox, but the 53-year-old Uchitel can be considered a beginner in film directing – Space is only his fourth feature film.

— So the presentiment** proved true for you, Aleksei?

— There was no sense that victory was assured, only a great desire for it.

— That's strange. Most of the time filmmakers say they don't care much about awards. What is important, they say, is that their film be seen and appreciated by the viewers.

— I have a different point of view. Awards are important: they are a big part of the profession, if you will. A director must make films that people will watch and critics will notice. We have ratings, just like in chess or tennis, and those ratings include festival victories. If you don't win prizes, you get treated accordingly. The Olympics principle "It's being there that matters" doesn't apply here.

— In that case, you must be at the top of the list: all four of your movies got a whole bunch of awards.

— To be precise, Giselle's Mania didn't get many laurels, but His Wife's Diary, The Stroll and Dreaming of Space seem to have hit the target. The Stroll even got two Grand Prix at USA's international festivals in Cleveland and Syracuse. That means that the story we told was international. I would like to believe the same will happen for Dreaming of Space.

— You had to neglect the Kinotaur this time – for MIFF.

— The situation was fueled up by the newspapers. First the organizers of the Kinotaur had reached me, and I accepted. Then Moscow showed up. I was straightforward and said I would take part in both competitions. I think that's logical. The two events are on a very different scale: one is domestic, the other international. Moreover, I believe that our country should be represented at the MIFF by Kinotaur winners. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to persuade both parties. Kinotaur is willing, but Moscow is resisting.

— Moscow wants its jus primae noctis?

— There is a bunch of stupid catches. It turned out that you can take part in other international festivals, but in Russia the first showing has to be at the MIFF.

— Did Mikhalkov give you any guarantees?

— I swear he did not. He said he didn't mind my participating in both competitions, but he promised no fringe benefits. Nor did I expect any. After all, we've already been through the 25th Festival with The Stroll...

— For all the good that did.

— True, we got no awards, although I know that Mikhaklov liked the film. The organizers had made a tactical error: they showed a film that was considered a frontrunner on opening day. I've heard talk that Nikita Sergeyevich [Mikhalkov] has paid his old debt to me by pushing Dreaming of Space on the jury. That's nonsense I don't even want to comment on. There are different ways to win, but I felt great pleasure when the presiding juror Valentin Chernykh announced from the stage that our film was unanimously voted the best. You see? No arguments, no re-voting...

...

— Two victories in a row for Russian-made films have given rise to a new topic of discussion. Such as that giving awards to your own is bad form.

— I touched upon that in my reception speech.

— Did you prepare that speech in advance, by the way?

— No. You have my word: I didn't know who would win up to the last moment. Although I had an inkling, of course, that I wouldn't go unawarded. There are certain signs, like a call from the organizational committee strongly urging you to be present at the closing ceremony. Or the seat indicated on your invitation. If it's near the central aisle, there's a chance you'll be going up on the stage.

— Where was yours?

— Forth row, close to the aisle. To get back to the double victory of Russian films, it's strange that somebody would feel embarrassed by it. We should be happy! To tell you the truth, I was afraid they would flunk Dreaming of Space for reasons of political correctness, figuring that the previous year Russia had had its limits. Fortunately, the jury was looking at the screen, not at the country of production.

— Will you be taking part in more competitions with Dreaming of Space?

— Certainly. There are lots of invitations, right now we're trying to make plans. Most likely we'll go to Toronto and Munich.

— What rewards do you expect from your Moscow victory?

— I hope it reflects well on national distribution. The market is quick to react. Remembering my negative experience with The Stroll and Our Own, which didn't open till fall, several months after the MIFF, this time we decided to start right after the festival. The film will be released on June 7. A lot depends on advertising, of course. Television, mostly. If the campaign is as aggressive as those of Night Watch and The Turkish Gambit, one can count on good box office. Brainwashing always works.

— You should have invited Ernst and Maksimov as co-producers.

— You think you're the only one that smart? Those people have their own plans and schemes, though I jokingly offered them to advertise Dreaming of Space to the max and then compare results.

— They didn't support the idea?

— Naturally, they did not. However, the First Channel and the Rossiya are still battling for who will air the film first. And by the way, they started before it was proclaimed the winner. That's nice.

— When is the telecast planned for?

— Count six months from July 7, the first day of release.

— What was the budget of Space?

— Substantial. For me, at least. Two million dollars. It was the first time I filmed crowd scenes with a thousand extras. We'd spent four days getting thoroughly ready, giving them haircuts and picking out costumes. We'd tried hard not to miss a single thing, but still our lack of experience showed: we hadn't thought of toilets. And it was winter, and we were shooting outside...

— And?..

— We'd found a way out, but it was the first time I ran into problems of this kind, and it just showed me once again that there are no insignificant details in filmmaking.

— The critics weren't very enthusiastic about Yevgeny Mironov's work in the film.

— That crowd is hard to please, they'll always find something to pick on. I think Yevgeny did a brilliant job, it's a new kind of role for him, a turning point. There was the kind of moment with him that matters to a director. Mironov came to the dubbing studio and I offered to show him a couple of completed pieces and then start recording, because everyone was in a hurry. And Yevgeny ended up asking to see the full film. That means he liked it, right?

— Did you get funding from Shvydkoi's Agency?

— Yes. It was still called the Ministry of Culture then, not the State Agency of Culture and Cinematography, but headed by Mikhail Yefimovich [Shvydkoi].

— How much?

— Half of it. One million dollars.

— Have you heard of the conflict between Shvydkoi and Sokolov? Accusations of kickbacks and such?

— You want to know my opinion? I don't know that side of it at all. I've never done anything of the kind, and I don't have the slightest idea how people pull that stuff off.

— Wrong things are easy to do, Aleksei.

— I'm ready to account for every single ruble I'd received and spent. I'm one of those directors who don't sacrifice quality to save money. I'm a maximalist that way. If I'm not happy with something, I'll reshoot it ten times. I'll tell you more: the little money I'd made on The Stroll went into this new film. But it's not just about me. I know many of the people in the Cinematography Commission personally, and I can hardly imagine any of them demanding a bribe for their services. It's stupid and crass. There are relatively fair and legal ways to make money to supplement your wages. There's no need to humiliate yourself by asking for kickbacks. Those things happen, of course, there are always sticky fingers around, but declaring to the whole country that under Shvydkoi there were loan sharks on every floor of the Ministry is wrong, I think. From the point of view of corporate ethics as well.

— Yeah, it sounds more like fish-market talk than something that should be coming from the Ministry of Culture.

— Nobody's gaining from the scandal, I assure you... And the final argument is, if the system were built on bribes, not a single film would ever get made. They don't give you much, and even that you have to fight for. Do you know how they distribute the grants? Studios deliver anonymous screenplays to the board of experts, which then divides into groups of five, and these groups read all the submissions and decide who gets the grants. Can you explain to me how one can bribe thirty people at once?

— Do you suppose that people don't know who stands behind Rock Films Studios headed by Aleksei Uchitel?

— Don't overestimate the personal factor. I'll give you a real-life example. Right now I'm producing two debut projects by young directors. One is almost complete, the other – Dunya Smirnova's*** – starts shooting in July. So I tried getting extra funds for her by telling the board about her contributions to the national cinema as a screenwriter. Nobody heard me. She got exactly as much money as other beginners. ...

*TRANSLATOR'S NOTE: "Uchitel" in Russian means "teacher".
**SITE NOTE: The literal translation of the Uchitel film's title is Space as Presentiment.
***SITE NOTE: Smirnova wrote the screenplay for Uchitel's film His Wife's Diary, among others.