Jude Law Channels Putin in The Wizard of the Kremlin, But the Magic Falters

If you ever wanted to see Jude Law disappear under a layer of chilly menace and play Putin (yeah, that Putin), there’s finally a movie for you. 'The Wizard of the Kremlin' isn’t your typical political biopic, though; it’s more like an icy, cerebral chess match, and if that sounds weirdly niche, trust me, it is. This one takes its cues from director Olivier Assayas, whose work can be excellent (check out his miniseries Carlos if you’re in the mood for a real masterclass). But here, he’s a little all over the place.

The Plot (Emphasis on Structure, Not Straight Lines)

The story zeroes in on Vadim Baranov—a thinly veiled stand-in for the real-life political puppetmaster Vladislav Surkov, though the book this is based on insists he’s technically fictional. Paul Dano plays Baranov, and his performance is about as emotionally available as a Siberian winter. Here’s the gist:

• Jeffrey Wright’s unnamed American journalist gets a rare sit-down with Baranov.
• We follow Baranov’s rise from avant-garde theater director (yes, really) to a behind-the-curtain Kremlin mastermind.
• Putin himself (Jude Law, unrecognizable) is there, but always as a supporting character in Baranov’s saga.
• The story bounces back and forth, from the mid-90s up to 2019, covering messy events: the Kursk disaster, Sochi Olympics, the Orange Revolution, and so on—the greatest hits of Putin-era Russian turmoil, all in short bursts.
• Baranov interacts with Alicia Vikander’s character, a social climber who adapts to her Oligarch lifestyle a little too easily.

‘Putin Biopic’ This Is Not

You might hear this called a Putin movie, but that’s not really accurate. He’s almost lurking on the sidelines, mostly there to be pissed off that the UN doesn’t give him enough respect:

"The UN treats me as if I’m the president of Finland!"

Law does a great job channeling that kind of brittle, unpredictable, absolutely unreadable power. Still, the main focus stays on Baranov, who moves through the chaos with total detachment. Dano gives him a soft accent—and about three facial expressions—but it fits for a guy who treats Russian politics like his own, personal board game.

Pacing Problems and Missed Opportunities

Here’s where things get clunky. The movie is split into 'chapters' that don’t always seem to mean much, and it time-jumps so frequently you’ll wish someone had handed out a timeline at the door. The film covers decades, but most scenes get the drive-by treatment. Big historical events come up for air just long enough to wave, then it’s onto the next headline.

If you’re a fan of Olivier Assayas from his best work, you’ll notice the difference between his sprawling, methodical Carlos miniseries and this. The Wizard of the Kremlin feels more like a rushed, chopped-down edit, even though it still runs a hefty two and a half hours. The structure kind of suggests there’s a longer, deeper version hiding somewhere, and I’d actually rather see that.

Worth Watching?

In fairness, both Dano and Law are acting their socks off, and the supporting cast (including Jeffrey Wright, who’s basically just a voice in the darkness) is strong. The problem is that the movie itself is so cold and remote that it leaves you at arm’s length. By the third 'chapter,' you might find yourself wondering if this was always meant as a streaming limited series.

Final verdict: there’s good stuff here, especially if you’re intrigued by power, manipulation, or just want to see Jude Law glower in Russian. But it’s rushed, oddly episodic, and not nearly as interesting as it thinks it is. File this one under ‘thought-provoking, but chilly and uneven.’