Beginning with a beautifully framed composition, a melancholy woman slowly moves through the village road towards the country and gazes down two roads. Silence is broken with narration, explaining that it's been two years since this mother (Antonina Maksimova) has seen her son—he never returned from the war. She knows him better than anyone—at least from birth to the day that he left for the Russian front, but this leaves a final gap in her knowledge. The narrator tells us that her son was a hero, now buried in a distant land, and honored as an unnamed "Russian soldier" by those who visit his grave. We are to be filled in on the rest of the story, unknown to Mother Skvortsov.

Had more Americans seen Ballad of a Soldier (Ballada o soldate) when first released in the U.S. in 1960, the Cold War might have thawed much faster. Most imagery of the Russians at that time focussed on stern and obedient Russians content with the Communist regime, resigned to stand in long bread lines without complaint, or their angry leader banging his shoe at the United Nations swearing to bury the "Free" world. Never mind that the Russians had been staunch allies during WWII, lost more people to the war than any other nation, and single-handedly endured Hitler's attacks on the eastern front. Most Americans imagined cold-hearted Russian villains during those naive years immediately following the McCarthy era, and writer/director Grigori Chukhraj's intimate 88-minute film would have painted an entirely different human face on Russian soldiers.

Ballad of a Soldier holds up remarkably well as a fine character study, largely due to the strength of its black and white cinematography, the emotional power of the script, and the engaging performances of its lead actors. Once again, The Criterion Collection revives interest in an overlooked gem with its recent release. The film transfer is magnificent, but only one relatively weak extra is available—an interview with the director and the two lead actors recorded at New York's Four Seasons restaurant for radio broadcast. Communications problems plague the interviewer, and Dukhraj spends most of his time repeating how he borrows ideas from Russian directors that he admires but is independent from any of them.

Comparing Chukhraj to Russian icon Eisenstein is far too obvious and ludicrous since the two operated under entirely different periods and restrictions. No longer was Chukhraj required to portray grandiose Russian history heroically as Stalin demanded from cinematographers, but he was free to show the smaller and more human side of a Russian character. And charismatic 20-year-old actor Vladimir Ivashov carries the film admirably through the heroic Pvt. Alyosha Skvortsov character.

Initially Alyosha is cowering in a foxhole as an enemy tank bears down on him. The frightened private races ahead of the tank towards the Russian lines until all hope is lost, and he desperately shoots the tank. A miracle! The tank explodes! Buoyed by his good fortune, Alyosha fires at a second tank and is now recognized as a hero. Instead of receiving a medal, Alyosha requests leave to return home to see his mother and is granted six days. This requires hitchhiking via the rails and through muddy roads, and forms the central core of Alyosha's adventures through the people he meets along the way.

A good hearted optimist, Alyosha's sensitivity shines throughout the journey by giving a despondent one-legged soldier hope, unselfishly delivering greetings and news to an anxious family, shaming an unfaithful wife for her indiscretions, and gaining the trust and love of a shy, suspicious girl named Shura (Zhanna Piokhorenko).

Alyosha is so pure hearted and likeable that we can't help but root for him, but the opening scene prepares for eventual tragedy, creating suspense throughout. Will he see his mother to say a proper farewell? Will his newfound love interest reciprocate?

These issues will play themselves out in a tautly paced and well-acted film that never contains dead spots. Had Ballad of a Soldier received wider play in 1960, more Americans would have realized that individual Russians are real human beings—with hopes and dreams, essentially good hearted and caring, family oriented, and no more in love with war than the common people we all know in the U.S. Forget about political agendas—all Alyosha desires is to see his mother and survive the war, and his nature compels him to touch others. It's surprising to find that Chukhraj's universally relatable film wasn't well received by the Soviet government when it was first released due to its more personal style and portrayals of character weakness (as if the rest of the world was to believe that sexual adventures and adultery didn't exist there). Arguably the best post WWII Russian film to date, Ballad of a Soldier communicates a human interest story for the ages.