Olivier Assayas is a filmmaker whose work has frequently delved into periods of political unrest, often as a reflection of our current times. Never has Assayas’ aims been quite as clear as with The Wizard of the Kremlin, which has mistakenly been pegged as a biopic of Russian president/dictator Vladimir Putin. While he is played, unrecognizably so, by Jude Law, the film isn’t really about Putin. It’s about the fictional man who lied, schemed, and manipulated his way by Putin’s side, in order to facilitate his rise to power. Assayas’ gift for pulling top notch performances is again on display, but also his tendency towards awkward pacing and keeping his characters at arm’s length which makes it hard to forge an emotional connection.
Paul Dano is the epitome of sociopathic power-lust as Vadim Baranov, a fictional creation based on Putin’s former right-hand man, Vladislav Surkov. Baranov began as a small-time trader who transitioned into theater acting, but he was always a mover and a shaker. Initially enigmatic and soft-spoken, Baranov’s ability to always say the right thing at the right time, and to always do what he says he’s going to do, got him next to the right people. Pretty soon, he’s mixing with the elite of Russian society and eventually politics, where his talents helped orchestrate Putin’s ascension.
Baranov is an intriguing figure, one who seems to care nothing for the chaos his words and actions create. In fact, he seems to get off on it, almost like the whole world is a stage and he’s just an actor in it. He is a reflection of the political theater we see all around the world right now. Baranov creates a reality where truth has no meaning, and nobody can believe anything. In this atmosphere, a violent, thin-skinned criminal like Putin can attain power easily by lying to the Russian people that he’s on their side when he’s really looking out for himself. That sound familiar to anybody?
While Dano and Law are excellent, I kept wishing there was more from the supporting cast. Jeffrey Wright plays an American journalist close to the action, but he is mostly off-screen as his words provide context. Alicia Vikander has the most showy role as a socialite who enjoys the luxurious life that comes with oligarchy. She’s the one person who cracks Baranov’s icy veneer, and seeing more from her perspective would’ve helped break The Wizard of the Kremlin from the monotony that comes with the lengthy 136-minute runtime. This isn’t the most intense movie in the world, and some of the most exciting events during Putin’s rise are skated over quickly. It’s a handsomely made political drama that comments on our reality that is becoming more anti-democratic, largely because of people like Baranov who don’t mind watching the world burn.
Something tells me there will be little interest from casual audiences to see The Wizard of the Kremlin, because who wants to see how a monster like Putin gained power? Doesn’t stuff suck enough already? I feel like this might’ve gained more traction as a miniseries, something Assayas has done effectively before with Carlos. The film’s episodic nature and simple production values give the impression of a glorified TV movie, anyway. Perhaps, if this version doesn’t get enough attention, Assayas will go back to the editing room and reshape it into a more easily digestible form.
The Wizard of the Kremlin opens May 15th.
