Olivier Assayas turns the rise of Putin into a dense political pageant in ‘The Wizard of the Kremlin’
By James Verniere/Boston Movie News
Jude Law as Vladimir Putin? It sounds odd (and it is, complete with British accent and toupee). But it turns out that Law delivers the finest performance in French filmmaker Olivier Assayas’ offbeat, and also definitely off- kilter film about the Steve Bannon-like Slav who gave up a career in the Russian theater and may have given the world Putin as Russia’s newest “Tsar.”
The “wizard” in Assayas’ film is Vadim “Vadya” Baranov (Paul Dano), “the new Rasputin,” a wearily soft-spoken man living in a wintry, remote home with his adolescent daughter and his dogs. A journalist from America named Rowland (Jeffrey Wright in what turns out to be a minor role) arrives in a limo and begins asking questions which introduce flashbacks to the film’s action in which we see how Baranov’s political career leads to the disastrous rise to power of a former KGB and FSB officer named Vladimir Putin (Law). We also get excessive narration throughout the film.
Viewers hoping to learn how Putin managed to install himself as permanent ruler of a horribly corrupt and frequently mired-in-war Russia (a career much admired by some in this country) are not going to be satisfied by “The Wizard of the Kremlin.” The action begins after Mikhail Gorbachev’s glasnost and perestroika era. Boris Yeltsin, the first elected president in Russian history, is in power. Russia’s transformation from Communism to “free trade” leads to the rise of billionaires, dubbed oligarchs, with political connections. But millions of ordinary Russian citizens plunge into poverty.
Baranov’s parents were “hippies” from St. Petersburg, we are told (the film was shot in Riga, Latvia). We encounter the young Baranov as he meets Ksenia (Alicia Vikander, who played the title character in Assayas’ streaming version of “Irma Vep”). Ksenia’s name is pronounced Ex-zayneeya. Dressed as some variation of Fritz Lang’s Robotrix from “Metropolis” (1927), she appears onstage with some sort of spaceship, undoubtedly a symbol of Russia’s new intergalactic potential.
Assayas, an eclectic French filmmaker best known for the aforementioned “Irma Vep” (1996), “Sentimental Destinies” (2000) and “Personal Shopper” (2016), has dipped into political waters before with such entries as “Carlos” (2010), “Wasp Network” (2019) and “Something in the Air” (2012). He co-wrote the film’s screenplay with Emmanuel Carrere (“The Mustache”), based on the 2012 novel by Italian think tank founder Giuliano da Empoli. But “The Wizard of the Kremlin,” whose title character is based on the real-life former Deputy Prime Minister and “grey cardinal” Vladislav Surkov, has so much explaining on its mind that it is almost all exposition.
Baranov and Ksenia get involved with rising oligarch Dimitri Sidorov (London-born Tom Sturridge), who takes a great interest in Ksenia, who, for her part, is partial to big furry hats and high life. She subsequently leaves Baranov. For his part, Baranov establishes his internet-age political shrewdness to the ambitious, “malignant dwarf” Putin. Baranov helps to create Russian “trash TV.” While the rich stash their money in Monte Carlo, the people of Russia are either “poor or filthy rich.” Were the 1999 Russian apartment bombings staged by the FSB (Russian Federal Security Service), which is described as “worse than the KGB,” to gain support for “strongman” Putin?
In any case, Putin becomes “Tsar” and “the new Stalin” after Yeltsin steps down. The nuclear submarine Kursk sinks during an exercise, and Putin at first refuses to return from his vacation. People such as the oligarch and mercenary leader Yevgeny Progovzhin (Andris Keiss) of the Wagner Group make their entrances and departures without leaving much of an impression. The film seems to tick off items on a list rather than tell a story. The exposition and narration never end. Putin’s people recruit thugs, ex-FSB workers, skinheads, religious fanatics and hooligans (Any of this ring a bell?) into their circle. Baranov performs “black magic in the service of power.” Putin invades Crimea, drops bombs.
Yes, the film is a cautionary tale for our times. But except for Law’s Putin, who seems to emit a cloud of poisonous smoke, characters seem to be not much more than names. Dano, who was recently the victim of a smear by the pointlessly vituperative Quentin Tarantino, dutifully drones the expository dialogue. When Ksenia, who returns, tells Baranov that she is pregnant, Dano passionately gushes, “I have no words,” which is both shocking, because it is personal, and ironic.
Instead of a “wizard,” Baranov is more like a dullard, introducing one embalmed player after another as if we are guests at a comically corrupt Slavic theme park overseen by a glowering mass murderer instead of Micky. If you want to see a great film about how terrifying life is in modern-day Russia, see Julia Loctev’s riveting and monumental 2024 documentary “My Undesirable Friends: Part I – Last Air in Moscow.” It may be over 5 hours long. But you can pretend it’s a streaming series. Part II is coming.
‘The Wizard of the Kremlin’
Rating: R for language, some sexual material, graphic nudity, violence and a grisly image.
Cast: Paul Dano, Jude Law, Alicia Vikander
Director: Olivier Assayas
Writers: Assayas, Emmanuel Carrere, Giuliano da Empoli
Running Time: 2 hours, 16 minutes
Where to Watch: In theaters
Grade: C+
Boston Movie News 