By Sergey Lavrentiev
1/12/2013
Balkan Westerns represent an important part of a cultural phenomenon which took place in the European Eastern bloc during the second half of the 20th Century: the phenomenon of the ‘Red Western’, or the ‘Ostern’.
In the Soviet Union, the western was considered a “reactionary genre which praised the white colonialists’ extermination of poor Indians. American westerns were distributed in the USSR only in the 1920s. Some westerns also managed to reach the Soviet screens after 1945, when the Reichsfilmarchiv (Reich Film Archive) was removed from Berlin and taken to Moscow. Then, from the 1950s on to the 1980s, during the last 40 years of communism, there were only 5 (five!) US westerns in the Soviet film distribution system.
Nevertheless, because these films were always received with great enthusiasm by the Soviet public, the Party bosses decided to allow Soviet filmmakers to come up with “our own westerns with the right content”. The result was the ‘Red Western’, and there were dozens of them produced in the USSR during that period.
Of course, no one officially called these films westerns’; they were “heroic adventure movies”. Sometimes they became great box office champions: Little Red Devils (Tsiteli eshmakunebi, Ivane Perestiani, 1924), and its remake Elusive Avengers (Неуловимые мстители, Edmond Keosayan, 1967), with the sequel New Adventures of the Elusive Avengers (Новые приключения неуловимых, 1968) were great hits. Sometimes the films were real works of art: 13(Trinadtsat, Mikhail Romm, 1936), or Nobody Wanted to Die (Niekas nenorejo mirti, Vytautas Zalakevicius, 1966). In any case, the Red Western had its own history, with a brilliant beginning in the twenties and a sad ending in the late eighties, a history which mirrors, in a way, the story of Soviet society in 20th century. It also mirrors the story of Soviet state censorship, and a lot of other stories, small and great, too many to be all included in this presentation.
But there is one great story that needs to be mentioned: the Red Western has a father and it is not Ivane Perestiani, Lev Kuleshov, or Mikhail Romm, but Josef Stalin.
Indeed, Stalin was a film freak and a great admirer of the western. The Russian State Film Archive (Gosfilmofond), founded in 1948 on the base of the Reichsfilmarchiv, contains plenty of evidence of the Great Leader’s passion for westerns. And at least two Soviet ‘red westerns’, 13, and “Brave People” (Смелые люди, Konstantin Yudin, 1950) were made at his direct wishes and orders.
If Stalin was the father of the ‘Soviet Red Western’, the ‘Balkan Western’ had three fathers. Their names: Josip Broz Tito, Nikita Sergeyevich Khrushchev, and Nicolae Ceauşescu. 1962 was ‘the year when the Balkan western was officially born’. Two events took place during that year, in two separate countries, which, although apparently not connected, are nevertheless both pivotal for the history of the Balkan western.
First, in 1962, filmmakers from West Germany decided to film the stories of their compatriot Karl May (1842-1912), who wrote about the Wild West. In the USSR, his writings were not known, but in Germany they were far more popular than the works of James Fenimore Cooper or Thomas Mayne Reid.
At the heart of Karl May’s novels there are two characters: one Indian, named Winnetou, and the other white (sometimes Old Surehand, sometimes Old Shatterhand). The first film to be made about their adventures was The Treasure of Silver Lake (Der Schatz im Silbersee, Harald Reinl, 1962). It is not known whether director Reinl ever supposed that his film would only be the first in a long series of many other pictures featuring the two inseparable friends, but the success of the film had surpassed all expectations and soon, the producers launched the pipeline: from 1962 onwards, almost until the end of the sixties, each year marked the release of at least one new film about Winnetou on European screens. But what has all this got to do with the Balkans?
The German producers of the films, like their Italian counterparts who were shooting their ‘Spaghetti westerns’ in Spain, were looking for locations that were both spectacular and cheap. In the beginning, they had also considered Spain but, in the end, they found an even better (and cheaper) place: it was Yugoslavia.
After his historical quarrel with Stalin, Tito had started to build his relatively? liberal brand of socialism. And he was also a great western admirer. During the 1950s, US westerns were often shown on Yugoslav screens, and they were very popular. More than one generation of young Yugoslav boys grew up with these movies. So, when the Germans suggested a co-production, the Yugoslav comrades were happy to agree.
It proved to be the ideal partnership: the Balkan side was open and friendly, and the Germans were given total production freedom and low prices in addition to fantastic shooting locations in Croatia. Soon enough, Winnetou and his white brother received permanent residency in the “happiest barrack of the socialist camp".
The results pleased everyone. After The Treasure of Silver Lake (which also received financing from the French), in 1963, Reinl shot “Winnetou”. Now, along with the French and the Germans, Italy was also credited among the producing countries, and the franchise was on a roll. During that same year, and with the same 3 countries as co-producers, another director, Hugo Fregonese, was called in to shoot Old Shatterhand with the same actors (Pierre Brice – Winnetou, Lex Barker – The White Brother). Then 1964 saw Winnetou 2 by Reinl, and Alfred Vohrer’s “Among the vultures”, where Lex Barker was replaced by Stewart Granger.
The Yugoslavs were involved in all these films, and not just as the country that provided the locations. All the films credit the Zagreb studio, Jadran Film, immediately after the name of the main German concern, indicating an equal partnership.
The Soviets would get to see some of these films later, but none of them were shown immediately after they appeared in the early 1960s. Instead, Khrushchev granted the opportunity to screen a real US western in the USSR.
The times they were a changing. In 1959, Khrushchev made his historical visit to the United States, during which he also went to Hollywood, where he met Marilyn Monroe, Frank Capra, and Gary Cooper. A new film agreement was signed then, according to which The Magnificent Seven (1960) was purchased for Soviet distribution.
The Magnificent Seven became a landmark success and a social phenomenon in the Soviet Union. Between 1962 and 1964, the citizens of the USSR never tired of seeing the film. Tickets became impossible to get. Stadiums and other open areas were used for the projection when regular cinemas could no longer cope. All men wanted to dress like cowboys, and since there were no Soviet shops where one could buy jeans, hats and boots, the costumes were all made at home from scrap materials.
The most curious thing about the whole national craze that engulfed The Magnificent Seven is that, according to statistics, the picture was not a box-office champion. Evidently, the numbers had to be manipulated, but be that as it may, the fact remains that an American western was able to stir the Soviet public so much that they seemed to forget all about their allegiance to their communist identity and ideals in the process.
Party leaders began to grumble. First, they forbade children from watching it. Then, the classic ‘letters from the workers started appearing in the central press. Finally, in 1964, just before Khrushchev’s removal from the head of the party, the film was withdrawn from distribution, before its export license had expired.
With Khrushchev gone, the communist party bosses decided to make their own response to imperialist propaganda, and encouraged the wide production of ‘Red westerns’, with the ‘reds’ playing the good guys and the ‘whites’ given the parts of villains. Recalling the huge success of Perestiani’s 1924 film Little Red Devils, a remake was ordered, which led to the creation of The Elusive Avengers in 1967, and, sure enough, the film became a major hit. The Civil War after the Bolshevik revolution became the time and historical arena for Soviet Red Westerns and, before long, Soviet boys started to forget The Magnificent Seven.
In 1966, comrades from East Germany received the ‘advice’ to try their own hand at making a classical western with reds and whites. This they did, and the result was The Sons of Great Bear (Die Söhne der großen Bärin, by the Czech director Josef Mach). For this production, the East Germans also went to Yugoslavia, since they wanted to beat their Western compatriots and rivals on the “same battlefield”. Their co-producer was Bosna Film studios in Sarajevo. Sure enough, history had since proved that it was not possible to compete with the West in general, and in film production in particular, but until 1968, the communists did not abandon hope, so the East Germans decided to step into the ring and fight.
[Russian posters courtesy of Michael Ferguson]
[To be continued]
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