A Dream Come True (1963 Soviet science fiction film)

Continuing my exploration of classic Soviet science-fiction movies, I come to 'A Dream Come True', also known as 'Toward Meeting a Dream' (original title:- Mechte navstrechu), which was originally released in 1963. The film was directed by Mikhail Karyukov and Otar Koberidze.

The premise of the story is reasonably straightforward. A spaceship from a distant planet, journeying towards Earth, encounters difficulties and consequently lands on the planet Mars. The authorities on Earth dispatch spacecraft to render assistance and establish contact.

Although the plot is not that innovative, and in places it flirts with corniness, I found it to be quite an affecting picture. Visually it is lavish, and in its relative slickness it does not necessarily conform to our expectations of science fiction movies from that era. The impression is that the budget was above-average for this type of project, and this is reinforced by the quality of the 'special effects'. There is also some highly effective electronic music, courtesy of Eduard Artemyev.

The 'script' and the narrative explore the standard themes from Soviet films from this genre - faith in science and human progress, peace and international solidarity.  As is often the case, Space is employed as a metaphor for events on Earth. 

If there is an underlying message or philosophical conclusion from the story, it is perhaps one of sacrifice for the greater good, and for the sake of knowledge and progress. Also, that we should not assume the hostile or malign intentions of the inhabitants of other planets. I interpreted the level of political moralizing to be comparatively mild and subtle. To be honest, once one has watched a certain number of old Soviet sci-fi movies, some hard-nosed pragmatism and 'realpolitik' would be welcome as a counterpoint to the unremitting diet of 'idealism' and utopianism. 

A Dream Come True contains more in the way of emotion and 'romance' than your typical sci-fi work, and this might alienate some people who prefer a more 'ascetic' and clinical ambience in such films. The tone and aesthetic of the film are distinctly 'early Sixties' in flavour.

This might not be the most cerebral of science fiction films, but it is quite 'rounded', gripping and satisfying as a watching experience. The conclusion to the film does leave a glimmer of doubt, though.

Red - King Crimson

From time to time, and by and large this is a process that first made itself visible to me around my  mid-twenties, my musical horizons and my musical sensibilities undergo a realignment. Over the past couple of years, I sense that I have gone through one such phase. If my musical world-view is like a living creature, then its sinews become stronger and more dextrous, and the process feels like a natural companion to the cycles of life.

Part of this latest renewal was fuelled by my properly exploring the music of King Crimson for the first time. All of their albums from the period 1969-1974 are noteworthy in their own right but Red, released in 1974, warrants special praise and examination.

I think that one of the things which sets Red apart is its deceptiveness.  It perhaps has a reputation as 'uncompromising' and 'challenging', and early exposure can reinforce this notion, but more careful inspection reveals the marrying of differing tendencies. Moments which might induce a sense of foreboding are tempered by flourishes of melody and finesse. Importantly, the instruments are allowed space in which to breathe, and John Wetton's purposeful but soothing vocals introduce an extra dimension.

It is worth noting that even before this record was released, King Crimson had disbanded, a move which in fact turned out to be a mere hiatus. I have heard it postulated that this move demonstrated great savoir-faire, by anticipating dramatic shifts in the direction of rock music. From my point of view, in any just, rational world King Crimson should not have had anything to fear had they remained together.

Red is portentous, in the creative and constructive senses of the word, and indicative of a cultural time and place, but without the posturing. Just look at some of the people who 'name-check' the record. Its aesthetic, and the brand of edgy and challenging prog-rock which it exemplifies, endure brightly. King Crimson's music from this period has a curious and invigorating quality. Melodic yet propulsive, organic yet modernistic, crystalline yet strangely calming. 

The original LP had just five tracks, but it doesn't need any more to make it fulfilling and impactful. 

The (instrumental) title track really does set the tone. For 1974, this is heavy stuff.  Bill Bruford's work on drums and percussion definitely imbued the group with additional depth and Robert Fripp's guitar teeters on the verge of losing control. There is a menace and a sense of purpose which for me are emblematic of Crimson at this stage of their evolution.

'Fallen Angel' benefits from a strong melodic base, an endearing John Wetton vocal and a reflective, almost wistful quality, but it also emits some of the darkness and anger which permeates the record as a whole.

In my estimation 'One More Red Nightmare' is the centrepiece, epitomizing the 'duality' which is one of the album's most striking traits. The saxophone passages, some 'surreal' percussion, the driving guitar riffs and the energetic vocal all form part of the mixture. 

The track 'Providence' is very 'experimental', it must be admitted, but it does have its pleasing moments, and the vitality of what surrounds it perhaps excuses some indulgence.

And then to 'Starless', one of the group's signature songs. The central guitar motif is highly lyrical, seductive almost, and the separation between instruments, and between instruments and vocals, is in keeping with the album's general orientation. Saxophone is employed again, this time more softly, and greatly enriching the palette. The 'middle section' of the track might seem uninspired at first, but stick with it! 

This is the kind of album which reveals more of its secrets and its dark recesses with each successive listen. Not always a comforting experience, but invariably a rewarding one.

Spycatcher - Peter Wright (with Paul Greengrass)

 In surveying the books on my shelves, I have been identifying those works which have thus far escaped my full and intensive attention. One such tome was Spycatcher, the "memoirs" of the former British intelligence (MI5) officer Peter Wright. This book is perhaps best remembered for the media and political storm which accompanied its original publication back in the 1980s.

Wright provides some enlightening biographical information, with hints that he didn't altogether fit the typical pattern of a British intelligence office from those days, in terms of background and outlook. 

It is the case that since the book was published, some observers have sought to question the veracity of Wright's views concerning the supposed high-level Soviet penetration of MI5.  I did make allowances for the criticisms of Wright and his book, but I still found it to be an illuminating and interesting read. The tone of the book is rather less "antagonistic" and uniformly "truculent" than I had anticipated. 

On the surface, Wright seems sincere and constructive in what he says about the shortcomings in procedure and methodology within the security services, both before and during his time, and he seems to have been world-weary and pragmatic from quite an early stage. His recollections also bring home the relentless, all-pervasive nature of Cold War espionage, but also how thoroughly mundane and 'routine' most of the activity actually was. 

As I worked my way through Spycatcher, I found myself wondering to what extent espionage was regarded as a 'game' and an 'end' in itself, rather than as a means to an end. After all, the operatives were supposed to be, ultimately, acting in our interests, but maybe the thrill and stimulus of the 'game' were required to enable the spies and officers to function in such as way as to be effective in discharging their duties.

More than a little space is taken up with less than thrilling descriptions of how certain technical gadgetry was developed, though things are enlivened by amusing anecdotes about how such equipment was installed and concealed. Some of the innovations sounded distinctly 'James Bond', others more 'Heath Robinson'.

As someone whose world-view has shifted to the left of centre in recent times, due to personal experiences and lengthy study and contemplation, I was occasionally left wondering about the purpose and the result of the British espionage and counter-espionage activity. 

Moral and ethical misgivings apart, it is impossible not to admire the resourcefulness and ingenuity of the operatives. Whatever we may think of the motives behind their activities, it plainly required intellect, finesse and no little resilience.

I quite liked Peter Wright's stories about his interactions with notable figures in the American intelligence community, especially James Angleton. 

A feature of the story, particularly in Wright's early days in the service, was the apparent informality of how he and his colleagues went about accomplishing their tasks; utilizing contacts and networking to obtain assistance and expedite investigations. The world seems to have been less rigidly "procedural" back then.

Occasionally, Wright places counterespionage episodes into a broader strategic or geopolitical context, such as the implications for arms control. These were some of the most impressive passages in the entire book.

The perception which emerges overall is that Soviet Union was "on the front foot" for the majority of the time, although in truth this does not come as a drastic revelation to me in 2021. One system was on the defensive, some might say by its very nature.

Whatever the substance of the book's central claims, it is difficult not to be captivated by imaginings of what it was like in intelligence and related circles, especially between the world wars. The idealism, the turbulence of the times, and also the feverishly tenuous existence of some of the individuals involved. Being righteous and committed was not always the tranquil and easy route.

I have to say that there is real drama in the chapters which deal with important interrogations, or with meetings which Mr Wright attended with luminaries of the secret world. Equally, one can sense the frustration when politics, or even more sinister motives, inhibited the path to efficiency or justice. It may be the case that, in this arena, objective truth is an elusive thing.

There is something rather poignant and affecting about the closing chapters, as Wright's career draws to its close. There is a changing of the guard, a shifting of priorities within the security services, and loose ends remaining unresolved. We also gain an idea of how the intelligence agencies "interfaced" with Whitehall, and the intrigues which this entailed.

Even when taking parts of the book with a pinch of salt, I found Spycatcher to be quite gripping, and I am glad that I took the trouble to read it in full.