Archangel

Archangel, directed by Guy Maddin in 1990, is an iconic piece of Canadian cinema and a testament to Maddin's singular style. Notoriously shot on shoestring budgets, Maddin's movies are typified by their careful reproduction of early cinematic techniques, from the primitive special effects to the scratchy black and white film. Archangel is no exception and comes across as an affectionate nod to Soviet era silent movies, melodrama, and war epics with an added dash of soap opera.

The movie stars Michael Gottli as Lieutenant John Boles, David Falkenberg as Captain Nungesser, and Michael O'Sullivan as Geza, along with Ari Cohen, Victor Cowie, and Sarah Neville. Gottli's portrayal of Boles is an impressive combination of intense emotion and comic timing, capturing the dichotomy of Maddin's tragicomic plotlines. Falkenberg provides the elements of dashing rogue meets embittered war veteran with a touch of genuine emotion that keeps his character from becoming a caricature. Meanwhile, O'Sullivan's Geza is a masterclass in underplayed tragedy and stoicism.

Upon its release, Archangel spins a tangled story of amnesia, mistaken identity, unrequited love, and obsessive pursuit. It is set in the ruinous aftermath of World War I in the northernmost reaches of Soviet Russia, hence the title Archangel, referring to the city that became one of the final holdouts of the White Army against the Soviets. Maddin, along with co-writer George Toles, chose the city for its loaded history, embodying love, loss, disillusionment, and yearning, all vital elements of the story they wove.

Lieutenant John Boles, recuperating in the fragmented city, is stomping grounds for his reckoning typhus-induced amnesia. Through the mist of his damaged memory, he is constantly seeking his lost love who died. He latches onto an equally damaged nurse Veronkha, played by Kathy Marykuca who believes him to be her husband. John and Veronkha's scenes together build a doomed love narrative unfolding among the city's ruins and an unending war, a laconically poetic approach that feels right at home with Maddin’s signature aesthetic.

This is a world where men and women wear their passions on their sleeves, where lovers lock eyes and you can almost hear the soaring strings of a Hollywood love theme from the 1930s. Yet, Maddin and Toles consciously subvert these moments, inserting humor and pathos in suitable measures. The result is a world wholly disconnected from reality, where even the most dramatic passions draw a chuckle and the comedic moments catch you by surprise.

Archangel is also a technical marvel for a film of its budget. Maddin's painstaking reproduction of the techniques used by early filmmakers creates an out-of-time feeling, which is highlighted by the grainy black-and-white images and the deliberately melodramatic acting. The director's skillful application of Russian montage theory, juxtaposing images to generate emotional, philosophical, and political reactions, proves effective in taking audiences on a surreal, disorienting journey.

Archangel often feels like a fever dream where love and war are all-consuming fires that leave no room for subtlety or second-guessing. It examines the nature of memory, mistaken identities, and obsessive love in ways that are both equally moving and humorous. An unapologetic mix of tragedy and comedy, Archangel draws much of its unique style from its confident blending of tones.

Archangel might feel strange and unapproachable to new audiences, but it offers a rewarding viewing experience for those willing to surrender to its world. This film is a radical departure from traditional narratives, an experimental homage to cinema’s past that’s steeped in melodrama and eccentric charm. Maddin's unorthodox style, in tandem with the unusual narrative and top-notch performances from the cast, makes Archangel an intriguing piece of film history. It's a testament to the versatility of cinema as an art form and an endearing love letter to the power of storytelling.