Rusalochka, dir. Vladimir Bychkov (1976)
I just love how the Prince is sad and wistful and confused and perpetually buffeted by the desires of other people and so fixated on his sense of melancholy longing that he’s paralyzed and unable to recognize the fulfillment of his dreams when it’s right in front of him. Although, it’s quite possible that this Prince could never be content, either because he’s so used to yearning for the unattainable or because what he truly wants is to desire the unattainable, not to actually have it. Also, he’s ridiculously beautiful. Especially when he’s dead, almost dead, or sad.
And so is the mermaid. She has this sort of otherworldliness, that isn’t innocence but superficially resembles it, and courage. But, alas, a pure heart and courage aren’t always enough to triumph, especially when your prize is that consumed with weltschmerz.
Over forty years later:
((I will never not reblog this.))