The Beginning Scene of Crime and Punishment (1969)

I read the novel, Crime and Punishment, and loved it more with each page. I frequently chatted to my siblings about it (they've never read the novel), and I decided that I'd look for an adaptation so I can experience it with them. If I wanted them to just experience it, sure, I'd throw them my copy of the book, but it's much cooler when you're sitting there with them. I think that's why movie adaptations of books exist, at least partly.

Anyway, I found that this adaptation, an almost four-hour-long movie made in the Soviet Union was the most faithful adaptation, and for the most part, it was pretty good! Of course, the novel will always be better, as you're so much closer to the cast (and I mean that; in the movie, Razumikhin barely does anything, but in the novel, he's one of the best characters), and parts of the plot are explored deeper like Luzhin and Svidrigailov. In spite of all of that, this was a great movie, but this opening scene really stuck out to me. It's my favorite movie scene of all time. This is what the inner monologue was attempting to be. The melancholic music mixed with the Nosferatu-esque framing of Raskolnikov makes it terrifying. The still shots of him walking down the bridge to him staring out the window paints him to be a demon. It's brilliant, and I wish the rest of the movie follows through with this idea.

Anyway, if you haven't read Crime and Punishment, you absolutely should! It's the best novel I've ever read, but if you don't wanna sit through 600~ pages, the movie's a great pick too. It's never had a remaster, so I found it on YouTube, and it was split into two parts.

If you don't know what Crime and Punishment is about, here's my unofficial (though accurate) synopsis:

Set in mid-19th century St. Petersburg, Crime and Punishment focuses on 23-year-old Raskolnikov. He frequently pawns items to a woman named Alyona, and she's a stingy, abusive, cruel, disgusting old hag who piles her money while doing no good with it. He finds himself in a moral dilemma: would it not be a good thing if he murdered and robbed her, and then gave her money to the less fortunate? Raskolnikov tests this theory, but finds himself haunted by the unexpected guilt and paranoia of the murder. He attempts to justify the murder using his own philosophies, but can't escape the horrors of what he's done.