Writer-director Andrei Tarkovsky’s Russian-language film “The Steamroller and the Violin” (1961) depicts a day in the life of 7-year-old boy Sasha. He lives in a Russia still being rebuilt after two ruinous world wars and the death of longtime dictator Stalin.
Protecting the Innocent
If brutal state power is a kind of looming bully who preys on the weak, Tarkovsky makes a profound statement about standing up for the vulnerable. Both Sergei and Sasha intervene to save strangers from bullies. Both have nothing to lose by walking away. But there’s a difference.When Sergei protects Sasha, he hasn’t got much to lose; he’s stronger than the rowdy kids. When Sasha protects a small boy, he has more to lose; he’s weaker than the bully. Both show compassion, but Sasha shows courage, too. He’s learned from Sergei’s kindness and puts himself on the line at a greater cost. As it happens, bullying kids scatter when Sergei approaches. Sasha, however, gets punched by the bully he challenges. With Sergei’s encouragement, Sasha recovers with a smile, wearing his bruise with pride, not shame.
Sasha’s violin teacher exemplifies the communist credo of conformity that crushes creativity. She obsesses with the metronome and “tempo” instead of playing to the child’s strengths. After all, he practices hours daily, seeking joy in music’s beauty, even if he isn’t yet able to produce it to perfection.
When he’s caught up in the poetry of a passage he’s playing, she warns him not to get carried away, not even to sway. How ironic is that? To be a violinist he must practice lifelong, not just for a few years, but can he really immerse himself in music and, even occasionally, not be captivated by its sweep?
Wrecking Ball
The steamroller and wrecking ball are symbols of state power, flattening distinct structures into a faceless uniformity. Forced to labor in its thrall, Sergei defies its spirit to the state by gently wielding his tools to fix Sasha’s violin case, which bullies spitefully damaged when Sasha was away. By having Sasha playfully hop onto his steamroller and carefully guiding him to man its massive controls, Sergei shows that strong leaders who share power with ordinary people become stronger by building trust and cultivating loyalty.Instead of fixating on the steamroller, Sasha becomes devoted to Sergei, affectionately following him around and learning from him. Once, a sulking Sasha flings down a loaf of bread. Sergei teaches him self-respect and dignity, warning that bread doesn’t come free but from the labor of others. Sasha ought to show his food the same respect he shows his violin.
When Sergei and Sasha part, vowing to meet up soon, Tarkovsky meaningfully interweaves sounds and images. The steamroller’s sound rings in Sasha’s ears as he’s back practicing his violin, and the violin’s music plays in Sergei’s ears as he’s back at work on the steamroller.
Now kindred spirits, they’ve left behind a part of themselves with each other. It’s a memory but experienced as something deeper: an emotion. This is more than a footnote from Tarkovsky on empathy. Curious, Sergei once asks what the lovingly crafted openings on Sasha’s violin are. They’re sound holes or resonators, Sasha explains. If they’re good, they faithfully reproduce the musician’s sound. If not, they corrupt it.
Although they part ways after a single day, little Sasha has the makings of a resonator of Sergei’s noble values, much like the sensitive acoustics of a great hall that amplify, rather than dim, a violin’s music.