There’s certainly a sardonic tinge to the title of Andrei Tarkovsky’s first feature, Ivan’s Childhood, one that’s not dissimilar to the equally acerbic appellation of R.W. Fassbender’s The Marriage of Maria Braun. In the case of both pictures, the names, through their assumed simplicity, convey the eponymous periods housed therein as exceptions to the norm, subversions of what we assume such times – times of conjugality and juvenility – to typically be. Rather than years of felicity, ardor, and comfortable sentiment, we’re confronted instead with those of tragedy and finality, as each picture conveys its titular era as but a dearth of dreams and leisure: Maria’s marriage is never truly actualized, nor is Ivan ever permitted a childhood of innocence. The parallels mostly end there, despite the marked excellence that both pictures exude. Fassbinder was always known for his eccentrically personal visions of humanity, while conversely, Takovsky’s offerings were forged with a more calculatedly reflective and longingly spectral touch; Ivan’s Childhood stands a harbinger to the precise, empathic potency the filmmaker would later come to revolutionize, perhaps even perfect.