Any publicity is good publicity in the
movies. Just think of cheese-loving North Korean despot Kim Jong-un declaring
blazing retribution for all countries who allowed the release of mediocre The
Interview. And the governmental censors are at it again. This time, Soviet
spy thriller Child 44 has found itself as unwelcome in Russian
cinemas as Triumph of the Will. The Russian culture minister has compared
its portrayal of the USSR to that of Tolkein's Mordor. (Then again, this is how
Tolkein's fictional world is seen in Russia: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Sl7w2Z0vGpA).
Whether or not the banning is justified there is little doubt that the current
media whirl will be vastly more helpful in selling tickets than the reviews,
which have been lacklustre to say the least.
So, is Child 44 worth such political energy? In
short – no. Swedish director Daniel Espinosa’s production lurks somewhere
between murder mystery and stylised dystopian blockbuster. In this way,
Espinosa seems to have punched above his weight and lost the powerful essence
of the story: the crushing, illogical brutality of the Soviet Union.
Part of the problem is that the
translation from page to screen has been too boldly cinematic. What could have
been a nauseatingly claustrophobic study of grim reality has become a popcorn
movie that showcases well-worn tropes, character developments and plot lines.
Sensationalist shoot-outs and predictable clichés are more numerous than an
unpacked Russian doll.
The story is interesting enough, if
muddled. Tom Hardy is Leo Demidov, an orphaned survivor of the Ukrainian
famine, a World War Two veteran who placed the Red Flag above the Berlin
Reichstag for the iconic photo, and an agent in the MGB (the KGB’s predecessor).
He is surly, taciturn, brutal when necessary and intelligent. He is not,
inexplicably, as vindictive as he could be, with a soft underbelly to his gruff
demeanour. Demidov is married, although his wife, played by Noomi Rapace, is
more scared by than attracted to him. So he gets on with arresting traitors in
an effective and speedy manner. When his comrade’s son is brutally murdered,
Demidov diffuses a potentially dangerous situation: there is officially ‘no
murder in paradise’, so a human-on-human killing in peacetime USSR does not
exist.
He goes on that way until, that is, his
wife is named by a colleague as a traitor, and Demidov refuses to give her up.
Thus he is demoted and the two relocate to some two horse hellhole outside the
relative luxury of Moscow. But fate has more in store for Demidov. A boy,
clearly murdered, is found close by. Demidov convinces his general, portrayed
by Gary Oldman, to allow him to investigate. And this means that he is
effectively fighting the state.
The plot should be straightforward, yet
Espinosa has allowed it to become muddled and bloated. Subplots wrench the
action in different directions, the film subsequently lurching down one road
then another. Espinosa seems as if he was unaware of what the story’s central
theme is, so covered all areas. Should we care more about the capture of
the serial killer, Demidov’s career, his marriage or the various orphan plotlines?
Ultimately, we care less about each than Stalin did for his citizens.
Child
44’s
biggest attraction is, political wave-riding aside, the acting. Tom Hardy is a safe pair of hands, forcing some feeling onto the viewer. He is well supported by the cast, not least Rapace, and, of course, Oldman. They are worth watching simply for their performances but, unfortunately, it is not enough to carry the story.
Historically we
are on thin ice. The weaving together of the Red Flag being hoisted atop the
Reichstag and a serial killer from the 1980s has created an elaborate and inaccurate
recreation of reality that any dictator would be proud of. I’m not sure where
the ‘no murder in paradise’ bit comes from, as homicide detectives worked
openly on the real case on which this was based. Nonetheless, the double-speak
of officials and the fearful alacrity with which citizens swallowed the lies
neatly demonstrates how such governments act. The relentless executions, plotting
and physical violence of a harsh society is captured on-screen. Thus, what Child 44 does so well is it showcases
the ceaseless and nonsensical nature of the USSR – or, indeed, of any similar
dystopia.
Child
44
has doubtless been unfairly savaged. I suspect that it was so promising that
critics have been disappointed and thus too harsh. It could have been so much
more, but compared to the Ukrainian famine the film is a perfectly pleasant
experience. It is a flippant murder mystery that neatly encapsulates the absurd,
devastating brutality of an oppressive state ruled by a paranoid leader.
