Hollywood VS Soviet cinema

The famous confrontation of the twentieth century between East and West, and, to be precise, the Soviet Union and the United States, could not but provoke competition in the field of art. If the Soviet system was recognized by the ideologists of the empire as the best in the world, its missiles are the most powerful, and the foodstuffs of the highest quality, then in art, and not just in ballet, as Yuri Vizbor sang, we had to be "ahead of the whole planet." And since the most important of the arts for us has always been a movie, there is an itchy temptation to compare the cinematography, creating on both sides of the ocean different products. For the effectiveness of our experiments, it is still necessary to omit the ideological component of American and Soviet cinema, since ideology in art at best is nothing more than an attempt to please the top leadership, albeit with a pronounced artistic method.

It would be the height of recklessness to compare the technical capabilities of the two superpowers in the field of film production, so the main criterion for determining the artistic merits of American and Soviet cinema is best determined by the emotional extent of its influence on the viewer. Whatever one may say, you will not be full of technological or computer effects, and if you remove the sensual component from such popular American blockbusters as, say, Titanic or Avatar, you can only watch an exhibition of the achievements of the technological industry of the two countries , one of which is clearly inferior in this component.
The main feature of Hollywood cinema is still frontal propaganda of simple human values, such as love, friendship, loyalty, patriotism, etc. Take the collective image of the protagonist of the traditional American film: a simple shirt-guy who is skeptical of politics, loves women, hot dogs and is ready to crush the jaws of bad guys, mostly immigrants from the countries of the third world, from morning till night. Putting such a hero in a certain life situation, the director by simple cinematographic means in every possible way tries to "assemble" it into the system of American values, without going into such nuances as "reflection of consciousness" or "inner monologue". On the screen, the American spectator should see a string of simple movements, united by an understandable plot line, which must necessarily end with a happy ending where the main villain perishes in terrible agony, seven and the homeland are saved and all this ends in a life-affirming phrase with a certain amount of irony. This is, so to speak, the traditional cliche of Hollywood cinema, with some exceptions, due to the budget of the picture and the degree of talent of this or that director.
Soviet non-ideological genre cinema, being limited in technical possibilities, influences the viewer by other means. Have you ever thought about why we with the same enthusiasm perceive films that are completely unlike the plot and genre, like "The irony of fate ...", "Five evenings" or, let's say, "Khrustalev, Machine!" Herman? Everything is simple: the unifying factor in the perception of Soviet cinema can be considered our belonging to a special genetic code, formed under the influence of a rich history and extraordinary expressiveness of the Russian language. We, all those who by fate's fate lived on the Soviet and living in the post-Soviet space, regardless of the type of occupation, religion and sex, feel the familiar features of the Russian character to the pain. Soviet cinema is perceived by us not through natural human values, which, due to the peculiarities of the state system, were constantly subjected to persecution, and through secondary, archaic features inherent in the Slavic model of the perception of the world. Agree that it is difficult to imagine the American Lukashin, who drank whiskey with his friends, mixed up his state with Alabama with the state of Nevada, where typical houses with typical apartments are built, the doors of which can be opened with their own key. I'm already silent about the impossibility of a wide rental on the American expanses of such sincere and truly close to our hearts comedy comedies Gaidai or Danelia, as well as more complex but exclusively Russian paintings shot by Tarkovsky or Sokurov.
However, in our age of total globalization and tasteful polyphony it would be absolutely stupid to oppose these two film schools. Both Hollywood cinema and the old Soviet, acting according to the same laws, give each of us, regardless of nationality, an unforgettable illusion of happiness, and this is probably the only time when we all WANT to be deceived.