The second in what should have been a trilogy, Ivan the Terrible Part 2 follows on from Part I not only in story but in style. Eisenstein approached the Ivan the Terrible films from a traditional theatrical angle appropriate to the subject matter. As others have commented, this was his equivalent of a Shakespeare adaptation.
If anything, Part 2 is even more baroque and stylised than its predecessor. The opening scene the defection of Kurbsky - is Eisenstein at his most operatic, with exaggerated acting that flows along with Prokofiev's score. But it's totally cinematic too, with spot on editing between facial close-ups, giving us an impression of the allegiances and hidden thoughts at play here. Eisenstein never really stopped thinking like a director of silents, and although the Ivan films are quite wordy they can be read and understood purely as visuals.
The first scene is also the lightest and happiest, which seems unusual after all it's a scene in which Ivan's best friend is betraying him and going over to join his enemy but in the context of the whole picture perhaps it's not that strange. While Ivan the Terrible Part 1 was a great study of the power of a charismatic individual, part 2 focuses more on the loneliness and insecurity of a powerful figure. The majority of part 2 is incredibly dark and eerie, full of disturbing imagery. Ivan is ageing, he's widowed and he trusts no-one. Eisenstein still makes him vaguely sympathetic, but more as a tragic figure than a conquering hero. So it makes sense for Kurbsky's betrayal to be so bright and jaunty this is the world Ivan has lost. Of course, it's fairly likely that Eisenstein was himself feeling stifled by the Soviet regime, and perhaps the subtext here is that he secretly longed to do a Kurbsky himself!
Part 2 includes a short colour sequence in the film's climax. This serves to show off a hypnotic dance routine, a magnificent set piece which forms a backdrop to Ivan's final act of retribution against his enemies. The picture quality is terrible here (No Technicolor in the USSR!), even worse than early two-strip Technicolor. It's very fuzzy, and only the blues and reds show up boldly. Eisenstein takes this on board however, and uses red and blue to create a "hot" and "cold" look respectively, using the two colours as he used light and dark in monochrome.
Although they are very similar, I prefer part 2 somewhat to part 1. Whereas part 1 was more a collection of episodes, part 2 is a more complete, singular story. As a little side point, Ivan the Terrible part 2 should perhaps be classed as a musical. There are several musical numbers, two are in the context of the film, but the other is a genuine case of a character bursting into song, like a medieval Russian Julie Andrews. And why not? The musical is a cousin of the opera, and the border between opera and cinema is incredibly close in this picture.
Sadly, this picture was banned by the soviet state and part 3 (which was already in production) was axed. Purportedly this was because the highlighting of Ivan's iron rule and his use of spies and secret police was thought to be an attack on Stalin's government, although I think the real reason might have been more personal. Stalin looked upon Ivan as a role model, and may have taken offence at the portrayal of the Tsar as a paranoid, decrepit old man (Like Disney, Eisenstein often drew upon animal characteristics; some have compared the middle-aged Ivan to Disney's Big Bad Wolf, although I've always thought of him as looking more like a vulture). Whatever the case, we are on the one hand very lucky that Eisenstein's swansong has survived intact, yet on the other hand unlucky that the concluding part of the trilogy never saw the light of day, as it would surely have been another classic.
If anything, Part 2 is even more baroque and stylised than its predecessor. The opening scene the defection of Kurbsky - is Eisenstein at his most operatic, with exaggerated acting that flows along with Prokofiev's score. But it's totally cinematic too, with spot on editing between facial close-ups, giving us an impression of the allegiances and hidden thoughts at play here. Eisenstein never really stopped thinking like a director of silents, and although the Ivan films are quite wordy they can be read and understood purely as visuals.
The first scene is also the lightest and happiest, which seems unusual after all it's a scene in which Ivan's best friend is betraying him and going over to join his enemy but in the context of the whole picture perhaps it's not that strange. While Ivan the Terrible Part 1 was a great study of the power of a charismatic individual, part 2 focuses more on the loneliness and insecurity of a powerful figure. The majority of part 2 is incredibly dark and eerie, full of disturbing imagery. Ivan is ageing, he's widowed and he trusts no-one. Eisenstein still makes him vaguely sympathetic, but more as a tragic figure than a conquering hero. So it makes sense for Kurbsky's betrayal to be so bright and jaunty this is the world Ivan has lost. Of course, it's fairly likely that Eisenstein was himself feeling stifled by the Soviet regime, and perhaps the subtext here is that he secretly longed to do a Kurbsky himself!
Part 2 includes a short colour sequence in the film's climax. This serves to show off a hypnotic dance routine, a magnificent set piece which forms a backdrop to Ivan's final act of retribution against his enemies. The picture quality is terrible here (No Technicolor in the USSR!), even worse than early two-strip Technicolor. It's very fuzzy, and only the blues and reds show up boldly. Eisenstein takes this on board however, and uses red and blue to create a "hot" and "cold" look respectively, using the two colours as he used light and dark in monochrome.
Although they are very similar, I prefer part 2 somewhat to part 1. Whereas part 1 was more a collection of episodes, part 2 is a more complete, singular story. As a little side point, Ivan the Terrible part 2 should perhaps be classed as a musical. There are several musical numbers, two are in the context of the film, but the other is a genuine case of a character bursting into song, like a medieval Russian Julie Andrews. And why not? The musical is a cousin of the opera, and the border between opera and cinema is incredibly close in this picture.
Sadly, this picture was banned by the soviet state and part 3 (which was already in production) was axed. Purportedly this was because the highlighting of Ivan's iron rule and his use of spies and secret police was thought to be an attack on Stalin's government, although I think the real reason might have been more personal. Stalin looked upon Ivan as a role model, and may have taken offence at the portrayal of the Tsar as a paranoid, decrepit old man (Like Disney, Eisenstein often drew upon animal characteristics; some have compared the middle-aged Ivan to Disney's Big Bad Wolf, although I've always thought of him as looking more like a vulture). Whatever the case, we are on the one hand very lucky that Eisenstein's swansong has survived intact, yet on the other hand unlucky that the concluding part of the trilogy never saw the light of day, as it would surely have been another classic.