Sergei Loznitsa Unearths Forgotten Italian Archive to Chronicle Soviet Empire in Imperium

In the early 1970s, Italian film crews embarked on an extraordinary journey across the Soviet Union, capturing a vast and multicultural empire that few Westerners had ever witnessed in such remarkable diversity. The cameramen documented everything from urban commuters to village festivals, from Baku trawlers to Siberian reindeer herders, aiming to reveal the Soviet polity during an era when Western audiences held a gray, monolithic image of life behind the Iron Curtain. Granted official permission by Soviet authorities, these Italian crews managed to resist pressure toward propaganda, even discovering ways to slyly critique a system that proclaimed regional autonomy while controlling everything from the Kremlin.

The footage was originally planned as a monumental, multi-chapter television series designed to introduce Italian viewers to the complexities of Soviet life. However, only a few episodes ultimately aired on Italian TV, broadcast just once before the entire endeavor vanished into the archives and lay forgotten for decades. For master documentarian Sergei Loznitsa, known for his meticulous archival work, this lost treasure represented the perfect project to bring back to life.

Organizing Decades of Forgotten Footage

In “Imperium,” Loznitsa worked with 60 hours of 16mm film, organizing the journey along geographic lines that trace a path from Moscow eastward before doubling back through the Central Asian republics and the Baltic states, ultimately concluding in what was then Leningrad. Following the approach Loznitsa established in his previous archival films, the documentarian added only minimal elements-snippets of conversation and music-while otherwise allowing the restored and carefully edited footage to speak for itself. What emerges from this painstaking curation is a portrait of an immense state whose distinct regions managed to preserve unique traditions despite the Kremlin’s incessant centralized proclamations of unity.

The film reveals the tension between regional identity and centralized control that defined Soviet life during this period. Through the lens of Italian cameramen who came as outsiders granted rare access, viewers witness communities maintaining cultural practices and local customs that persisted despite decades of official efforts to homogenize the sprawling empire. The footage captures moments both mundane and extraordinary, from everyday commutes to ceremonial gatherings, creating a tapestry of Soviet life that contradicts the simplified Western narrative of the era.

A Diffuse Narrative Over Three Hours

While “Imperium” proves engrossing throughout much of its journey, critics note that its nearly three-hour running time feels more pronounced than in Loznitsa masterpieces like “Maidan” and “State Funeral.” The difference may stem from the nature of the material itself-in those earlier films, audiences experience the force of history pushing inexorably toward watershed moments whose impact continues to resonate across decades. With “Imperium,” however, the motivation remains clear yet the concept proves more diffuse, lacking that singular dramatic arc that propels viewers through the narrative.

The documentary will likely resonate most powerfully with viewers old enough to recall how the Soviet Union was discussed in the West during the early 1970s, a full decade before Ronald Reagan’s famous declaration of an “Evil Empire”-a remark that simply applied a reductivist Star Wars moniker to the anti-communist propaganda that had suffused American-driven global discourse since the end of the Second World War. For Loznitsa, the interest clearly lies in examining the country from within rather than exploring how it was perceived from abroad, though separating these two perspectives will prove impossible for most contemporary audiences.

Opening With Soviet Spectacle

The film begins with a classic parade in Red Square marking the 24th Congress of the Central Committee, immediately establishing the official face of Soviet power that the Italian crews were initially shown. This opening sequence provides the contrast necessary to appreciate what follows-as the cameras venture beyond the choreographed spectacle of Moscow, they discover a far more complex reality in the republics and regions stretching across eleven time zones. The juxtaposition between centralized power displays and regional diversity becomes one of the documentary’s most compelling elements.

Loznitsa’s editorial choices throughout “Imperium” demonstrate his characteristic restraint and respect for archival material. Rather than imposing heavy narration or contemporary commentary, he allows the footage itself to reveal contradictions within the Soviet system-the gap between propaganda and reality, between proclaimed equality and actual practice, between the monolithic image projected to the West and the multicultural reality that existed within Soviet borders. This approach trusts audiences to draw their own conclusions from what they witness.

Rediscovering Lost Visual History

The rescue of this footage from obscurity represents more than just the recovery of historical documentation. These 60 hours of 16mm film captured by Italian crews offer a perspective that differs significantly from both Soviet-produced propaganda films and Western documentary efforts of the same era. The Italian filmmakers occupied a unique position-granted official access yet maintaining sufficient independence to resist becoming mere instruments of Soviet self-promotion. Their cameras captured moments of genuine life that neither purely propagandistic nor overtly critical approaches could have achieved.

For contemporary viewers, “Imperium” provides a window into a world that has since vanished-not just the Soviet Union itself, which dissolved in 1991, but the particular moment in the early 1970s when that system still appeared permanent and unshakeable. The documentary preserves visual evidence of daily life in communities across the republics, from industrial centers to remote villages, creating an invaluable record of how people actually lived during this period. These images counter both the romantic nostalgia some feel for the Soviet era and the purely negative characterizations that dominated Western discourse.

Loznitsa’s achievement with “Imperium” lies in his ability to transform abandoned archival material into a coherent and thought-provoking examination of empire, identity, and control. While the documentary may lack the urgent momentum of his crisis-focused films, it offers instead a patient, geographically structured exploration of how diverse populations navigated life within a system that demanded conformity while containing irrepressible variety. The nearly three hours of footage invite reflection on how power attempts to shape perception and how reality persistently exceeds official narratives.