On holiday in Yalta, Muscovite banker Dimitri Gurov contrives to meet a young woman who walks her dog. She’s Anna Sergeyovna, trapped in a loveless marriage to a lackey. He’s unhappy in an arranged marriage. With neither spouse at hand, Dimitri and Anna begin an affair. After a short time, she returns to Saratov, he to Moscow, believing it’s good-by forever. All winter he is miserable, enervated, distracted by tristesse. In desperation, he contrives to go to Saratov, surprising her at a concert. Fearing discovery in her home town, she promises to come to Moscow. Will they cast aside reputation to live together, or will theirs be an affair of infrequent encounters in hotel rooms? –IMDb
Kheifits preserves those telling, incidental details that make Chekhov’s short stories, and adds a few remarkably Chekhovian touches of his own: the cut from the lovers to a pair of horses at their nosebags; a glove – possibly but not certainly Anna Sergeyevna’s – which Gurov picks up from the platform & drapes over a railing; the unexplained snowball hitting Gurov in the back as he reconnoitres Von Diderits’ house.
The summer in Yalta is exquisitely done, but the longueur of the following Moscow winter is needlessly drawn out, an unwelcome adulteration of an otherwise faithful adaptation. Perhaps Kheifits so laboriously dissects the decadence & boorishness of Gurov's class in order to inject some state-approved social criticism. Or he was simply obliged to pad the film to feature length— which, regardless, is too long by half.
After about half an hour I couldn't wait for this to end. Occasional effective moments, some beautiful shots, but mostly a tedious slog through an uninteresting affair. And it never did end; but at least it stopped.
Perfect translation of Chéjov's short story. Heartbreaking portrait of two emotionally tormented lovers and their casual encounters, prisoners of a time when reputation and social status was perceived as more important to maintain rather than be lead by their real human emotions.
