The posters did not reveal that Sword and the Dragon was actually a dubbed version of a 1956 Soviet film, Ilya Muromets, based on a cycle of medieval folk tales. Far from having been designed for the Russian equivalent of the U.S. drive-in market, as its packaging and treatment in this country might have suggested, it was actually a creation of some prestige in its homeland. The director was Aleksandr Ptushko, a critically renowned Soviet filmmaker compared by some to Walt Disney and George Pal.

Long difficult to find on home video in its American incarnation, Ilya Muromets received a loving restoration by Russia’s Mosfilm in 2001. For us fans who have fond memories of Sword and the Dragon from long-ago Saturday matinees, a new Russian DVD edition offers a chance to revisit a nostalgic favorite and better appreciate its artistic merits.

Ilya (Boris Andreyev) is first shown as a strapping but helpless farm youth, bound fast by paralysis.



He is unable to join in the defense as the nomadic Tugars raid his village and carry off his sweetheart.




Three pilgrims cure his affliction, and Ilya ventures to the court of Prince Vladimir in Kiev to offer his services as a knight. (There is a stronger religious flavor to the original folk tales, wherein the pilgrims are actually Christ and two of the Disciples.) More adventures follow:




Ilya captures the troll-like Nightingale the Robber,





and rescues his sweetheart from the Tugars, only to lose her again in another attack after they marry. Their son, Little Falcon, is reared by the Tugars’ Tzar Kalin, while envious courtiers turn Vladimir against Ilya and convince him to throw the hero into the dungeons.



Time passes, and the Tugars advance upon Kiev. Realizing that he has wronged his loyal knight, Vladimir releases Ilya. As reinforcements hasten to Kiev’s rescue, Ilya and his long-lost son reunite.



(Here I was reminded of Khlit the Cossack and his grandson Kirdy the White Falcon in Harold Lamb’s classic stories; one may surmise that Lamb was familiar with the Russian folk legends, some of which refer to Ilya as a Kazak.)




Meanwhile, the Tugars dispatch a three-headed dragon, Gorynich the Serpent, to spread more destruction.




For younger viewers accustomed to CGI special effects and a certain smart-ass edge to movie fantasy, Ilya Muromets may seem slow-moving and old-fashioned. Many of the sets and backdrops have a deliberately artificial appearance, and the acting is studied and declamatory, the tone of the direction fond and respectful. Even in 1960, the puppetry FX used to create the dragon seemed primitive compared with Ray Harryhausen’s stop-motion work in the U.S. Today, it may remind kids more of H.R. Pufnstuf than Dragonheart.

However, taken as a whole, this rough-hewn quality works marvelously well as a style for translating folk literature to the screen. It creates a convincing world in a way that slick Hollywood productions like Willow never have. Thanks to Ptushko’s discerning eye, the sets and visual composition present the appearance of classic children’s book illustrations come to life. The camp of the Tugars, simultaneously barbaric and sumptuous, suggests a setting that Robert E. Howard might have envisioned. Vladimir’s Byzantine palace recalls the expressionistic sets from Fritz Lang’s Die Nibelungen.

Wonderful imagination infuses scene after scene. Vladimir’s Russian allies hurry to his defense in long ships that are drawn ashore and then pulled over the ground on wheels. Kalin orders the Tugars to clamber atop each other, forming a human mountain, from which to view the oncoming enemy legions. A giant crossbow bolt launched from a mangonel shatters the living mound.

The DVD from Ruscico, the Russian Cinema Council, is gorgeously produced. Colors are vibrant, and the image is sharp and clear. The picture is restored to its widescreen dimensions of 2:35-1, so that Ptushko’s careful compositions are not marred by cropping as they were in earlier video editions. For English-speaking audiences, the menu offers an English narrative voice-over or a Russian track with English subtitles. I preferred the Russian track with English subtitles; the English voice-over was a bit distracting, and it interfered in places with Igor Morozov’s stately, haunting musical score. Copies can be ordered from www.ruscico.com . The $22 price is eminently reasonable, and mail service provides a reasonably efficient 3-4 week delivery. If you thought that Peter Jackson’s Lord of the Rings trilogy was overcooked and overrated, as I did, then Ilya Muromets may restore your faith in heroic fantasy cinema.

Read the review of some of Aleksandr Ptushko's other fantasy films at SwordAndSorcery.org.

Russian version