Aelita

The Russian silent film "Aelita," initially released in 1924, is a combination political tract and campy sci-fi melodrama, as odd an amalgam as one could ask for.

That it still works at all is amazing enough but history has added some perspective — "Aelita" is now as interesting for its location shots of bustling activity in Moscow in the early '20s as for its somber narrative.

Russian cinema's first foray into science fiction, "Aelita" — sometimes billed as "Aelita: Queen of Mars" — is the story of a Soviet scientist named Loss (Nikolai Tserectelli) who is obsessed with building a space ship and traveling to Mars.

Loss dreams that Aelita (Yulia Solntseva), the aloof, sophisticated and rather conniving queen of Mars, has observed Earth through a special telescope. At one point, she sees Loss kissing his wife and begins to wonder why Earthlings press their lips together. Toward the end of the movie, Loss does head for Mars with a couple of comrades, and when he lands and is confronted by Aelita, he gives her an opportunity to find out about kissing firsthand.

The scenes on Mars are quite amazing for their expressionistic set-design and costumes, right up there with Fritz Lang's "Metropolis," though not as complex. Surprisingly, however, most of the film is not about any of this. Most of the way "Aelita" is about Loss' marital problems, brought on by his own heated and unfounded jealously. Ultimately, it leads to murder. Or does it?

Less surprisingly, the film as a whole, from class clashes in Russia to a revolt of the underprivileged masses on Mars, acts as an allegory for the Russian Revolution.

The ending of "Aelita" is very unsatisfying; it may remind you of the famous "dream episode" of the old TV series "Dallas." But the film has much to offer, especially with its terrific black-and-white cinematography, both on Earth and on Mars, and the alluring presence of Solntseva.

Though reference works list "Aelita" as a short feature — "Halliwell's Film Guide" shows it to be 70 minutes and "The Science Fictionary" lists it at only 45 minutes — the Tower will be showing the complete 113-minute version of the film. (Though, given its lengthy polemic meanderings, it's easy to see why editors have been unable to resist trimming it.)

Leonid Nemirovskii's live synthesizer accompaniment will certainly enliven the screenings, giving the Tower's showings of "Aelita" the feeling of an event.