order to illustrate the response of an individual family to the events at hand. Foreign critics paid close attention to this trend in filmmaking. From the New York Herald Tribune, 1928: “One senses the spirit of realism, a persuasive seriousness, and gloomy force in Two Days. It is unquestionably impressive; differing from every other Soviet film we have seen so far. And at its tragic core we do not find the mass, but rather the individual.” This peculiarity is easily explained by differences in the viewers, east or west. For those in Ukraine, the filming of the Revolution was tied to the purpose of convincing him of its inevitability.
It’s difficult to say whether Solomon Lazurin’s screenplay was based in fact, but the story told in the film is plausible enough. Or, at least in the plot’s treatment of the father who loses his son twice: first to the Bolshevik Reds, and finally, in death, to the Whites.
Director Heorhii Stabovyi, cinematographer Danylo Demutsky, both making their debuts in film, as well as lead Ivan Zamychkovsky, were moved by the screenplay and interpreted it with a palpable intensity. Demutsky entered cinema coming from the world of artistic photography, and his grasp of shadowing was not merely academic. Ivan Zamychkovsky, an experienced actor of the Odessa State Ukrainian Drama Theater, had acted in film before; starring in the films Hamburg, Suspect Baggage, Taras Shevchenko, Love’s Berries, and Jimmy Higgins. He succeeded in the film not only because of his experience, but as a result of his personal identification with his character. Kino magazine reported that the actor had lost a son during the Russian Civil War in circumstances similar to those in the script.
The film’s spare title foreshadows an even sparer story, taking place in a single location and encompassing two days. The home of a landowner where Antin, the servant, is beset by opposing White and Red soldiers. Antin manages to save the life of the landowner’s son, but is only able to watch as the Whites, indifferent to his entreaties, lynch his own son, Andrii, a Red (Bolshevik). Antin avenges his son by setting fire to the home.
Critics were impressed by the growth of the lead character. Soviet film historians also reckoned this to be the ultimate value of the film, especially as it dealt with a common man, initially disinterested in the events surrounding him, but who in the end chooses the path of revolution. Though involuntarily drawn into the bloody conflict, his transformation resonates with authenticity. This “path to revolution” plot development is not difficult to identify, as in the shot of the dog digging up a strong-box hastily buried
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