Russian President Vladimir Putin has long been shrouded in myth, with his image carefully crafted by the Kremlin to portray him as an all-powerful leader. The latest film to explore this phenomenon is Jude Law's "The Wizard of the Kremlin," which premiered at the Venice Film Festival last year.
Law's portrayal of Putin was a calculated risk, with the actor himself stating that he "didn't fear any repercussions" over his performance. However, it seems that the film's depiction of the Russian president may have been more effective in reinforcing the existing myth than challenging it.
One notable example of how this myth has been perpetuated is in the latest TV series, "Chronicles of the Russian Revolution." The show's main character, a fictional lieutenant colonel with ties to the security services, bears striking similarities to Putin. The implication is clear: the man who saves Russia from chaos must be the familiar figure at the center of power.
In contrast, the French director Olivier Assayas's "The Wizard of the Kremlin" takes a more nuanced approach. The film frames Putin as a symptom rather than a cause, shifting its focus towards spindoctor Vadim Baranov and the machinery around him. This is a significant departure from the typical portrayal of Putin as an all-powerful leader.
However, even Assayas's attempt to subvert this narrative may have been co-opted by the Kremlin. The film does not present itself as a documentary or biopic, but rather as a cautionary tale about the consequences of "political evil." This framing has allowed the Kremlin to spin the film as a minor diplomatic triumph, much like they did with Putin's invitation to meet Donald Trump in Alaska.
The image of Putin as a powerful KGB spy was also constructed retrospectively, and it is unlikely that this aspect of his persona will be widely recognized by the Russian public. The claims about his "recruitment work" during his time in Dresden do not hold up to scrutiny, and most of these stories were added later as part of the wider mythology surrounding him.
In conclusion, "The Wizard of the Kremlin" is a complex film that attempts to challenge the existing narrative around Putin. However, its effectiveness may have been limited by the way it was received within the Russian context. The film's framing as a cautionary tale about the consequences of "political evil" has allowed the Kremlin to spin it as a minor diplomatic triumph, reinforcing the very myth that the film sought to challenge.
Ultimately, the persistence of this mythology is a testament to the power of propaganda in shaping public perception. As long as the Russian media continues to perpetuate this narrative, it will be difficult to imagine an alternative image of Putin in the minds of his citizens.
Law's portrayal of Putin was a calculated risk, with the actor himself stating that he "didn't fear any repercussions" over his performance. However, it seems that the film's depiction of the Russian president may have been more effective in reinforcing the existing myth than challenging it.
One notable example of how this myth has been perpetuated is in the latest TV series, "Chronicles of the Russian Revolution." The show's main character, a fictional lieutenant colonel with ties to the security services, bears striking similarities to Putin. The implication is clear: the man who saves Russia from chaos must be the familiar figure at the center of power.
In contrast, the French director Olivier Assayas's "The Wizard of the Kremlin" takes a more nuanced approach. The film frames Putin as a symptom rather than a cause, shifting its focus towards spindoctor Vadim Baranov and the machinery around him. This is a significant departure from the typical portrayal of Putin as an all-powerful leader.
However, even Assayas's attempt to subvert this narrative may have been co-opted by the Kremlin. The film does not present itself as a documentary or biopic, but rather as a cautionary tale about the consequences of "political evil." This framing has allowed the Kremlin to spin the film as a minor diplomatic triumph, much like they did with Putin's invitation to meet Donald Trump in Alaska.
The image of Putin as a powerful KGB spy was also constructed retrospectively, and it is unlikely that this aspect of his persona will be widely recognized by the Russian public. The claims about his "recruitment work" during his time in Dresden do not hold up to scrutiny, and most of these stories were added later as part of the wider mythology surrounding him.
In conclusion, "The Wizard of the Kremlin" is a complex film that attempts to challenge the existing narrative around Putin. However, its effectiveness may have been limited by the way it was received within the Russian context. The film's framing as a cautionary tale about the consequences of "political evil" has allowed the Kremlin to spin it as a minor diplomatic triumph, reinforcing the very myth that the film sought to challenge.
Ultimately, the persistence of this mythology is a testament to the power of propaganda in shaping public perception. As long as the Russian media continues to perpetuate this narrative, it will be difficult to imagine an alternative image of Putin in the minds of his citizens.