Andrei Rublev felt like a slog until the last segment with the bell making. That segment really built tension for me and at its end it became clear to me that the entire film had been a set up. It established the vanity of Rublev's religious experience and his realization of that through his sudden exposure to the chaos of the world outside the monastary.
But to make Rublev's epiphany clear -that he could live for compassion, passion and the kindred spirit of a fellow creator- you had to be taken through this long process of seeing this crazy world through Rublev's naive eyes.
It was definitely one of my first experiences where I discovered that sticking with art that is challenging or difficult could truly pay off in a way immediately gratifying art sometimes cannot.
The bell-maker sequence is one of my favorites in all of cinema.
You'll be delighted to read this story in the Mughal emperor Babur's autobiography discussing the casting of a cannon and the emotions the cannon-maker felt when failing and, later, succeeding in casting it. It's a remarkable similarity. (These are from the "events of the year 933" section of W.M. Thackston Jr.'s version of the Baburnama.)
The cinematography of Andrei Rublev (and really all of Tarkovsky's films) feels almost magical.
I remember the first time I watched Andrei Rublev, it was in a university library, in one of those media carrols (on a laserDISC !). There's a scene in the middle of film depicting a pagan spring ritual where Rublev and the other monks were compelled to participate. Anyways, by the time that scene was over I turned around and noticed several other students standing behind me asking what the F was I watching, they were so mesmerized, they abandoned what they were watching and just started to watch Andrei Rublev.
One contemporary director in particular come to mind, that remind me at least in part of Tarkovsky. Apichatpong Weerasethakul, who directed "Uncle Bonmee who can recall his past lives" and others (https://www.youtube.com/watch?reload=9&v=_bJdvNS4iRw). Like Tarkovsky films, this film and his others meander in plotless dreamy arcs with sumptuous camera work. Weerasethakul has even stated that he's OK with people falling asleep while watching his films.
I've never seen this movie, nor am I a movie buff of any sort, but this was the experience I had watching Mr Hollands Opus.
The entire movie you're left wondering what the hell the plot is. What is the point of this movie. And then the ending happens and you realize the entire movie was crafted for the ending, and it wouldn't have had much impact without the journey before it.
But to make Rublev's epiphany clear -that he could live for compassion, passion and the kindred spirit of a fellow creator- you had to be taken through this long process of seeing this crazy world through Rublev's naive eyes.
It was definitely one of my first experiences where I discovered that sticking with art that is challenging or difficult could truly pay off in a way immediately gratifying art sometimes cannot.