The Wizard of the Kremlin

Jeffrey Wright

Rowland

Political leaders often don’t rise to that level of power without the strategic scripting concocted for them by the little-known kingmakers behind them. And that’s what this fact-based, though satirically fictional, political thriller about the rise of Russian president Vladimir Putin (Jude Law) seeks to chronicle. The film tells the story of professional political fixer Vadim Baranov (Paul Dano), who rises from art school student to television producer to “the Czar’s” righthand man, doing whatever it takes to promote and ensure the power of his boss after the resignation of President Boris Yeltsin (George Sogis) in 1999. Baranov is portrayed here as a soft-spoken schemer who doesn’t hesitate to play both sides of the fence to add to the unbridled clout of the Russian strongman, even if that means pitting social and political opponents against one another if that tactic results in increased backing for Putin’s policies and practices. What’s more, Baranov is so seduced by the prospect of amassing power and influence for himself that he even agrees to support causes that he himself disagrees with. For example, if need be, he’ll willingly back right-wing extremist positions regardless of whether those views clash with the “radical” democratic ideologies he once so whole-heartedly championed during the early days of the New Russia in the early 1990s after the collapse of the Soviet Union. But that brand of shameless cynicism carries a high price when it comes to aiding a political figure – a former KGB operative – to help him restore the allegedly respectable “integrity” of the Russian Empire. Baranov’s questionable odyssey is largely revealed through voiceovers by the protagonist and an American journalist (Jeffrey Wright) conducting background research about the 30-year era in question. His dubious exploits come to life through his various unsavory dealings with political leaders, oligarchs and social movements within Russia and surrounding areas like Ukraine and the would-be breakaway republic of Chechnya, most of which, unfortunately, are given short shrift and little more than Cleft Notes treatment. That may allow the pacing to move along surprisingly briskly, but it provides inconsequential depth and opportunities for little more than smarmy quotes by the protagonist in dialogues with clueless cohorts. There’s also a largely needless romantic story thread involving Baranov’s significant other (Alicia Vikander) that could have easily been cut, a move that would have allowed more time to be devoted to the re-creations of the watershed historical events depicted here. And, despite the strength of Law’s fine but underdeveloped performance, the remainder of the cast leaves much to be desired. Writer-director Olivier Assayas’s latest is arguably one of his most commercial works, but, like so many of his other films, it’s another disappointment, even if it’s easier to follow than many of his prior overly cryptic productions. However, that kind of accessibility still doesn’t make for a great picture, especially one whose subject matter deserves better treatment than it receives here.