Having naively assumed that Kalatozov without Urusevsky would be somewhat underwhelming, I was astounded to see the brilliance of the imagery and montage in his early silent works (both here and in Salt For Svanetia). The machine-gun editing is as exhilarating as anything I've seen, and would surely have Guy Maddin weeping tears of joy.
I've no idea what the film is actually about, but I believe it may well be a Russian paean to quality footwear (in the spirit of St. Hubbins). Either way, the lack of subtitles is entirely irrelevant, as this is a film where the inventiveness of the visual language is of paramount importance - indeed, it's so formally daring that it makes the vast majority of contemporary filmmaking seem utterly anaemic by way of comparison.
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