The thing about magical stories is that they can be all over the place sometimes, but Ruslan and Ludmila has restraint. Restraint is an interesting, even a contradictory word to describe a fantasy film that clocks in at two and a half hours. A film that has its digressions, a subplot about Naina the Witch. Mariya Kapnist plays that witch, a friend of Chernobor. Vladimir Fyodorov plays the evil dwarf who kidnaps brides like Ludmila (Natalya Petrova), a princess of Kiev. Attempting to rescue her is her knight husband, Ruslan (Valeri Kozinets), doing so despite rivaling knights. And even if Ruslan finally rescues his bride, Chernobor and Naina have tricks up their sleeve, endangering them.

The only Aleksandr Ptushko film that I’ve seen is another Deaf Crocodile and OVID collaboration, Ilya Muromets. I barely remember that film except that the casting is a bit off. But here, the casting is more conventional and thus better. The best cast member is Petrova as Ludmila. She has a magnetic presence even if she’s asleep for periods in this film. The same goes when she’s awake. Here she does more than just be the cinematic version of Pushkin’s damsel in distress. It thus comes as a surprise that this may be her only film credit. Unless, hopefully, there are missing records of Soviet cinema somewhere. Ruslan and Ludmila shows off Petrova’s physicality – as Ludmila, she’s able to figure out her own tricks, different from her captors.

Another great thing about Ruslan and Ludmila is its aesthetic. It’s reminiscent of a kaleidoscope, suitable for adding magic to real life. ‘Real history’, whatever that is, doesn’t have a record of Ludmila as a real Kievan Princess. Nor does it record Ruslan as a real knight. Their story takes place in a fantastical version of a stretch of land between the old capital and Murmansk. Back in the Kievan Rus era, Murmansk was a Sami holding. The film depicts its varied landscapes as jagged. There’s enough danger but not dangerous enough to alienate its demo of young viewers. Some of these landscapes are earthy. And others have these jewel tones that transport us to magical pockets within this earth. Not to be nostalgic, but they really don’t make films like this anymore. And I wish filmmakers dared to use colour and vibrancy.

A film that has children in mind, my brain can’t help but take aspects of Ruslan and Ludmila way too seriously, especially race wise. Race has double connotations here, a film that has one foot in the fantasy world and another one in real life, a place with borders. Ludmila finds herself in a world with diminutive wizards and titans in chains, the latter representing any valid symbolism. And in the ‘real’ world, Ruslan has more rivals who want to steal Ludmila, Vikings who aren’t as gallant and susceptible to spells. A lot of this is interesting since one of the source materials for this story is Pushkin, a person who reminds others of Russia’s multiculturalism. This film is a window to the way Russians see themselves and others during Pushkin’s time as well as during the Soviet era that was ‘race less’.

Aleksandr Ptushko’s multi genre Soviet film Ruslan and Ludmila comes soon to OVID, uncut and commercial free.