Not everyone and every film honored on Oscar night belonged on the podium this year. But when Russian bear Nikita Mikhalkov strode to the stage and hoisted his tiny daughter-actress Nadia up onto to his burly shoulders, there was a sense of justice done.
Mikhalkov's powerful Stalin-era drama "Burnt By The Sun" had just won the Academy Award for best foreign language picture.
"Burnt By The Sun", which made its North American debut at Toronto's filmfest last September, has been fighting to get released because American distributors considered it too long, too slow, and too Russian. Canadians were waiting for the Americans to decide.
But the Oscar has changed things for Mikhalkov's masterpiece, which he co-wrote and directed while starring as an aging, charismatic, former military hero of the Bolshevik Revolution. This is an astonishing bravuro performance that itself could have been nominated.
The year is 1936. Raging against the dying of his light, Mikhalkov's character is a legend in his remote community while remaining well connected in Moscow. But the winds of war, deception and political intrigue are sweeping through the Soviet Union of the day. Our hero must remain sublime, but highly suspicious. The film creates an idyllic, bucolic setting undercut with urban paranoia slinking in from the outside.
Through Mikhalkov's struggle, we delve into the mindset of a generation of Soviet Russians. Through his performance, we marvel at the power of a single man, while his supporting cast, including his daughter, are invested with a shimmering light that floods the screen.
Through this story, we achieve a tremendous insight into the machinations of any repressive government system, especially one which pretends to be so idealistic. In that context, "Burnt By The Sun" could just as well be about the Russia of today, with its frontier violence and corruption and its vulnerable political structures.
But "Burnt" is too long and too slow, if you want all your movies to really move with an MTV editing pace and explode with "Terminator 2" ferocity.
And it is too damn Russian, which, of course, is precisely why the drama is so powerful. Out of the specific, in stories rooted deep in a culture, come universal truths. At least when the stories are told by cinema's true shamans. Mikhalkov is such a master.