Moscow Believes In Tears

This unique collection of writings and interviews highlights the important role that cinema can play for understanding Russian history, politics, culture and society in all phases-Tsarist, Soviet and post-Soviet. "This is the book for the Russian movie aficionado - personal, pointed, funny, frank and full of all kinds of inside stories and political folk tales. It is a fascinating window on Soviet/Russian pop culture that only a cultural Marco Polo and fanatical movie-goer like Louis Menashe would even dare attempt."-Hedrick Smith, Pulitzer Prize-winning author of The Russians and The New Russians"Menashe combines an encyclopedic knowledge of Russian history and society of the past 50 years with a broad-ranging and sensitive eye for cinematic meaning and detail."-Anthony Anemone, The New School University"This sparkling collection of film reviews, essays and interviews with filmmakers is a cultural history of Russia over the past 25 years. Highly recommended to everyone interested in Russia and the movies."-Denise J. Youngblood, University of Vermont, and author of Cinematic Cold War: The American and Soviet Struggle for Hearts and Minds."A great national cinema is explored in its myriad colors and textures. Not a traditional history, the book is an archive of insights captured across years of passionate viewing."-Jerry W. Carlson, The City College and Graduate Center CUNY, host of the popular program, "City Cinematheque.""Menashe allows us to see both Russia's present and her past through his crisp, clear and fresh lens of a true expert who loves the country and its films, but always remains critical enough to see their flaws and merits."-Birgit Beumers, University of Bristol

Author's experiences from 1940 to 1960, from her detention in her native Lithuania as her American husband left for America, until her release through a special appeal to Mr. Khrushchev.

Men Out of Focus charts conversations and polemics about masculinity in Soviet cinema and popular media during the liberal period – often described as "The Thaw" – between the death of Stalin in 1953 and the invasion of Czechoslovakia in 1968. The book shows how the filmmakers of the long 1960s built stories around male protagonists who felt disoriented by a world that was becoming increasingly suburbanized, rebellious, consumerist, household-oriented, and scientifically complex. The dramatic tension of 1960s cinema revolved around the male protagonists’ inability to navigate the challenges of postwar life. Selling over three billion tickets annually, the Soviet film industry became a fault line of postwar cultural contestation. By examining both the discussions surrounding the period’s most controversial movies as well as the cultural context in which these debates happened, the book captures the official and popular reactions to the dizzying transformations of Soviet society after Stalin.

What do Soviets think of Americans? What do they learn from books, newspapers, and films about life in America? How do we, as Americans form opinions about life in the U.S.S.R? Through the selective use of both Soviet and American materials, The Other Side explores these and other provocative questions that are central to public understanding of how perceptions affect U.S.-Soviet relations. The Other Side also examines the many differences between Soviet and American media, such as the role of the press, and offers article-by-article comparisons of Soviet and American press coverage of the same events. Appropriate for citizen of all ages, and groups as well as individuals, The Other Side includes a Reader's Guide, suggested educational projects, an annotated bibliography, and guidance for discussion leaders.

This volume explores the cinema of the former Soviet Union and contemporary Russia, ranging from the pre-Revolutionary period to the present day. It offers an insight into the development of Soviet film, from 'the most important of all arts' as a propaganda tool to a means of entertainment in the Stalin era, from the rise of its 'dissident' art-house cinema in the 1960s through the glasnost era with its broken taboos to recent Russian blockbusters. Films have been chosen to represent both the classics of Russian and Soviet cinema as well as those films that had a more localised success and remain to date part of Russia's cultural reference system. The volume also covers a range of national film industries of the former Soviet Union in chapters on the greatest films and directors of Ukrainian, Kazakh, Georgian and Armenian cinematography. Films discussed include Strike (1925), Earth (1930), Ivan's Childhood (1962), Mother and Son (1997) and Brother (1997).

This book is a collection of 12 essays looking at touchstones of Russian popular culture, mostly from the Soviet period, that continue to resonate through language, images, and ways of seeing the world in Russia today. These include films: The Irony of Fate, Moscow Does Not Believe in Tears, White Sun of the Desert, Sherlock Holmes and Dr Watson; a novel: The Twelve Chairs; animated cartoons: Hedgehog in the Mist and The Prostokvashino Three; the writer Mikhail Bulgakov; the singer-songwriter Vladimir Vysotsky; stand-up comedians Mikhail Zhvanestky and Mikhail Zadornov; and a character from a fairy tale, Yemelya the Simpleton. The subjects of the chapters were selected for their influence on Russian language and thinking, and also because they reflect Russian attitudes and perceptions. The author brings them to life through her own experiences of and responses to these modern icons.

Narrated in the tradition of Tolstoy's confessional trilogy and Nabokov's autobiog­raphy, Leaving Russia: A Jewish Story is a searing account of growing up a Jewish refusenik, of a young poet's rebellion against totalitarian culture, and of Soviet fantasies of the West during the Cold War. Shrayer's remembrances ore set against a rich backdrop of politics, travel, and ethnic conflict on the brink of the Soviet empire's collapse. His moving story offers generous doses of humor and tenderness, counterbalanced with longing and violence.

The doctor said something in Russian and the translator translated." I am told you did not eat your breakfast. Are you feeling sick to your stomach?" "No. I feel fine. I feel great. I just don't like Kasha," The doctor came over to me and said "aw." I stuck out my tongue to show her how great my throat was now. She made a hmmm noise and wrote on her chart. The nurse produced a thermometer. "Roll over," the translator said." The doctor needs to take your temperature." They had me trapped. I hated them all. I rolled over. My frilly bloomers were pulled down. The thermometer was freezing. I lay there in full view with a thermometer sticking out of my bum. The Russian girl in the next bed was looking at me. I heard people in the hall. People came in and out of the room. How many people did this have to involve? How many people needed to look at my bare bum with a thermometer sticking out of it? I hated the girl staring at me. I put my face down in the pillow. Maybe I'd suffocate and die. Normally I did not want to die, right now though it would have been better that way, better to die. Several minutes went by. It was quiet now. When was the nurse going to come back and read my temperature, which was going to be normal after all of this? I was fine. I waited. I waited. They must have forgotten about me. Jeepers Creepers! They forgot they were taking my temperature.