Whether you know it or not, we’re sort of in the middle of a Jude Law renaissance. The actor has been quietly turning out slyly nuanced performances in several films and series over the last few years, with The Order being a particular standout.

So, it stands to reason that his latest should be another brilliant moment for the actor, but Olivier ᴀssayas’ The Wizard of the Kremlin is a major misfire despite a compelling performance from the actor. Based on the novel of the same name by Giuliano da Empoli, The Wizard of the Kremlin is billed as a work of fiction even if it tracks the rise of Vladimir Putin after the fall of the Soviet Union.

We see this through the eyes of Vadim Baranov (Paul Dano, in a chilly performance), a fictional figure based on Vladislav Sarkov, a Russian politician who pulled a lot of strings behind-the-scenes. On paper, The Wizard of the Kremlin should work. In addition to Law and Dano, the film also stars Alicia Vikander and Jeffrey Wright, takes place during one of the most interesting times in modern history, and is helmed by one of the most exciting directors working today.

The Wizard Of The Kremlin Is Challenging To A Fault

In adapting the novel, ᴀssayas opts for a clinical approach, framing the story through narration delivered by Wright and Dano that does little to provide thematic insight, instead running through plot and exposition at a breakneck pace that makes it feel like the movie is talking at us, not to us.

The Wizard of the Kremlin tells its story through dual timelines, framing the tale from Vadislav’s perspective after his departure from the Kremlin before going back in time to track his youth as a young artist growing up in early-90s Moscow. He meets Vikander’s Ksenia and forms a relationship with her, but soon prioritizes his own political ambitions to install Putin in the heart of Russia’s government.

Law doesn’t even make his first appearance until nearly an hour into the film and, incidentally, he looks more like Martin Freeman than he does Vladimir Putin. Still, he commands the screen, and Dano’s performance really shines when the pair is together, even if there isn’t enough of the former.

The Wizard of the Kremlin holds the figure at a distance, which may be the point, but it doesn’t work in a film that is so dialogue-driven. It’s meant to be an inside look at the political machinations of Russia, but its insistence on keeping us at arm’s length hurts more than it helps, even if it feels thematically appropriate.

With ᴀssayas’ clinical approach, there’s a stiffness that runs through the entire film that undercuts the energy of the director’s vision. There are moments that really click (Vikander singing while walking a naked man on a leash stands out). But just when it feels like it’s going to hit the gas, The Wizard of the Kremlin holds back, all the way up to its confounding, out-of-left-field ending that is both abrupt and fittingly bleak.

The Wizard of the Kremlin at the 2025 Toronto International Film Festival.