This filmmaker's later works would benefit from more money, longer running times, name performers, even colour, yet it turns out the essentials were here from more or less the get-go. Archangel is Maddinism in its purest form, an artefact from a time when all its maker had to go on were the films that first inspired him and his own imagination. Even when its narrative line meanders and blurs, the composition and imagery (something like a party political broadcast on behalf of the Church on the subject of love; a wreath adorned with the odd, funny legend "dispatched by wounds innumerable"; several of the dirtiest Bolsheviks in screen history; a whole world fashioned from chiaroscuro) remain fresh and thrilling, not bad going considering much of it was first arrived at under George V. Even the dead air and clunkiness has the good fortune of seeming like a deliberate homage to that routinely baked into silent programmers; while the sniggering postmodern irony that would come to define Nineties cinema, and eventually result in Quentin Tarantino, is here offset against an abundant affection for all that the cinema had left behind. (Not to mention an at least semi-sincere message about the ways war disrupts lives and loves.) Nobody save Maddin became a star off the back of it, but it surely remains one of the coolest films for an actor to have on their CV, simply by going so far down its own peculiar path. No other 1990 film so completely captured the shellshocked, long-wintered essence of 1919; whether anybody else in 1990 was troubled to do so is almost a moot point. Sample dialogue: "It was my father's leg - I think she wants you to have it."
Archangel is currently available to stream via rarefilmm.com.
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