The Wizard of the Kremlin Review (2026 Glasgow Film Festival)

Key Takeaways

• Film blends art and politics, spanning 1990s‑2019
• Length and tonal shifts hinder narrative cohesion
• Performances by Dano and Law receive high praise
• Accents inconsistency distracts from immersion
• Speculative insight adds little beyond news coverage

Summary

The Wizard of the Kremlin, premiering at the 2026 Glasgow Film Festival, dramatizes the rise of Vladimir Putin through the fictional lens of Vadim Baranov, a former artist turned political fixer. Directed by Olivier Assayas, the two‑hour‑twenty‑minute film follows Baranov from post‑Soviet freedom to his role as Putin’s right‑hand man, weaving together art‑world intrigue, the Kursk disaster, and the Ukrainian uprisings. Critics praise Paul Dano’s and Jude Law’s performances but fault the film’s excessive length and uneven tonal shifts. Accents inconsistencies further dilute immersion, leaving the narrative feeling more like a news recap than a revelatory drama.

Pulse Analysis

Political biopics have surged in popularity, and Olivier Assayas’s latest effort, The Wizard of the Kremlin, positions itself at the intersection of cinema and current affairs. By framing Vladimir Putin’s ascent through the fictional character Vadim Baranov, the film attempts to humanize the mechanisms of power while commenting on Russia’s cultural re‑isolation since the early 1990s. This narrative device aligns with a broader trend of using fictional proxies to explore real‑world events, offering audiences a dramatized yet accessible entry point into complex geopolitical histories.

The movie’s ambitious scope, however, proves to be a double‑edged sword. Spanning over two decades, the screenplay jumps from avant‑garde stage productions to the tragic Kursk submarine disaster and the 2014 annexation of Crimea, creating a series of tonal whiplashes that some critics argue dilute the central thesis. While the visual style is striking—mixing stark Siberian landscapes with opulent Kremlin interiors—the pacing suffers from an overabundance of subplots, making the two‑hour‑twenty‑minute runtime feel overstretched. This structural unevenness underscores a persistent challenge for filmmakers: delivering depth without sacrificing narrative momentum.

Despite its flaws, the film’s strongest asset lies in its performances. Paul Dano’s portrayal of Baranov captures the volatile transformation from idealistic artist to manipulative power broker, while Jude Law delivers a nuanced, almost uncanny embodiment of Putin’s calculated charisma. These portrayals have sparked conversations about the responsibility of actors in political storytelling and may boost the film’s awards prospects, particularly in acting categories. For distributors, the movie’s blend of historical intrigue and star power offers a compelling package for both theatrical releases and streaming platforms seeking prestige content that resonates with audiences attuned to global politics.