The Potemkin

The Battleship Potemkin is certainly one of cinema's most loved films. The Odessa Step sequence has been analyzed by film students for decades. Eisenstein is a noted director mainly for his role in this film; and especially for the creation of one of the first instances of the montage. However, a far less cited aspect of the film is its censorship and reception. It should be noted that the film is, at the very least partially, based on historical fact. In light of this, we can understand the motives behind its censorship in so many nations.

The fact is, ``Potemkin'' doesn't really stand alone, but depends for its
power
upon the social situation in which it is shown. In prosperous
peacetime, it
is a curiosity. If it had been shown in China at the time of
Tiananmen Square, I
imagine it would have been inflammatory. (Ebert)

Eisenstein's film has been banned, at least during some point-in-time, in multiple European nations. Governments have considered the film revolutionary, subversive and propagandizing. To a great extent, it is. One would not be surprised then that initially, Potemkin was only seen by a select few. It was not released to the public at large.

Battleship Potemkin, one of the most renowned films in the history of cinema and
containing perhaps the best known sequence in the medium's entire history, was
initially seen only by small audiences of film society aficionados and trade
unionists. (Grace)

Frankly speaking, the power of this film has little bearing in the modern eye. Surely, one can be taken by the power of revolutionary sentiments or the sight of soldiers mowing civilians. However, it is near impossible to see the gall that went in to the film. America can say and see the underlying purpose of The Battleship Potemkin, but we cannot feel it. That may sound pretentious, but the fact that it is out of cultural and political context is undeniable.

But it suffers when it is seen apart from its context (just as ``The Graduate,''
by striking the perfect note for 1967, strikes a dated note now). It needs the
right audience. (Ebert)

These set of facts do not detract from the power of Eisenstein’s work. On the converse, they make it more powerful. It is something perpetually elusive, a study not only of early film, but of early politics and censorship. It is ironic that so famous a film almost never made it off the floor.

It begs two questions, in my estimate. What else has been lost to the black pen and red tape? Furthermore: Why is this film treasured? Certainly, it is timeless in its progressive cinematics; but is it also remembered for controversy? It certainly would not be the first time.

The Battleship Potemkin (1925)

Battleship Potemkin