The Assassin of the Tsar, on OVID.tv

It is highly unlikely Timofeyev, a mild-mannered Soviet mental patient, could have assassinated both Tsar Alexander II in 1881 and the final Tsar, Nicholas II along with his family in 1918, but the Soviet government heavily censored discussion of such events. As a result, most Russians knew very little about their respective deaths, even as late as 1991. Russian filmmaker Karen Shakhnazarov really had to scrounge for background information while preparing this film. However, he had a big international star in Malcolm McDowell. Maybe he was not as hot as he was in the early 1970s, but the Caligula thesp still carried a good deal of cachet during the era of Glasnost. Regardless, McDowell convincingly makes Timofeyev’s delusions contagious in Shakhnazarov’s The Assassin of the Tsar, which premieres today on OVID.tv.

Assassin of the Tsar was produced at a time when Shakhnazarov was still an artist. Today, he is a propagandist, whom Putin regularly trots out to endorse his war crimes in Ukraine. Apparently, he forgot writing and directing this film, because its critiques of violent extremism could apply just as well to Putin’s regime.

The exact time period is hard to pin down, but references suggest Stalin is still in power. Perhaps that is one reason Timofeyev politely declined his previous doctor’s offers of increased freedom. As long as he remains an inmate of the asylum, he is safe from the outside world and provided sufficient food. Dr. Aleksandr Yegorovich has stepped back into a quasi-emeritus role, conceding day-to-day responsibilities to his younger colleague, Dr. Smirnov, who was specially recruited from the big city.

Smirnov is struck by Timofeyev, particularly the way his body exhibits signs of psychosomatic injuries on dates related to the assassinations. Of course, he assumes Timofeyev could not possibly have committed either murder, so he decides to cure his patient through confrontational role play therapy. However, instead of snapping Timofeyev back to reality, the patient pulls his doctor into his delusional visions of the past. Shakhnazarov realizes these scenes so subtly, they first seem like historical flashbacks for context. Yet, the treatment steadily takes a physical and emotional toll on Smirnov.

As the film progresses, it grows steadily clearer how the abject horror of the Romanov regicide hangs over the characters and Soviet society, like an evil curse. It is sort of like the regime’s original sin and Timofeyev is the holy fool, pointing out Banquo’s ghost at the banquet.

Two versions of Assassin were produced, one featuring an undubbed McDowell performing with the Russian actors phonetically delivering their lines in English and a Russian version, in which the Yorkshire-born thesp is overdubbed. This review is based on the subtitled Russian option, but OVID.tv offers both. Regardless, McDowell is perfectly weird as Timofeyev. He can be suitably twitchy, but somehow his moments of serene calm are more disconcerting.

Oleg Yankovsky is necessarily reserved as Smirnov, but he is really quite a dead-ringer, so to speak, for both Tsars—especially Nicholas II. However, Armen Dzhigarkhanyan steals most, if not all, of his scenes with Yankovsky mordantly bestowing boozy wisdom as old Yegorovich.

At times, Shakhnazarov’s execution (if you will) is slow and even somewhat murky. However, it is ultimately satisfyingly challenging, both thematically and aesthetically. Sadly, it represents the kind of bold cinema the Russian movie-making establishment in general has largely turned its back on (including Shakhnazarov). Recommended as a tantalizing taste of what might have been, The Assassin of the Tsar starts streaming today (7/26) on OVID.tv.