There is always a decisive figure behind great myths. These legendary figures, who history turns into heroes or villains that transcend time and space, always have someone by their side who ends up being essential, because without their presence, their legend would never have been forged. The Wizard of the Kremlin (2025) by Olivier Assayas presents one of those figures who work from the shadows. Vladislav Surkov is one of the most enigmatic and influential figures in Russian politics. He was known as the Kremlin Puppeteer for his ability to pull political strings from behind the scenes.

In Giuliano da Empoli’s novel Le mage du Kremlin, the central character, Vadim Baranov, is inspired by Surkov. In this work of fiction, Baranov is a political advisor who spent years behind the scenes shaping the structure of political power in Russia. Director Assayas draws from this work to construct the screenplay for The Wizard of the Kremlin. The confessional account of this Baranov, now removed from power, takes us on a journey spanning from the 1980s to the present. The collapse of the Soviet Union, the constitutional crisis, economic chaos, the consolidation of the oligarchs, Putin’s rise, protests, the annexation of Crimea, military intervention in Syria, and, in the midst of it all, Baranov’s private life.

Its testimonial tone becomes a double-edged sword for The Wizard of the Kremlin. The film is highly effective in reconstructing a long and complex timeline while also providing a psychological portrait of its narrator. Yet, it occasionally borders on tedium due to the constant use of dialogue between the interviewer and interviewee. From the memory of Vadim Baranov, perfectly portrayed by Paul Dano, we receive the events that structure the story. His truth is what we digest. The audience becomes Rowland (Jeffrey Wright), who, between astonishment and suspicion, tries to process everything. The third essential piece in this puzzle is Vladimir Putin, portrayed by Jude Law, who is almost a carbon copy of the Russian leader.

Assayas’ staging is striking and skillfully manages tension, largely thanks to the cast’s performances. His narrative finds a way to make precise political critiques while reflecting on crucial figures and historical moments. The Wizard of the Kremlin offers a portrait of contemporary Russian politics from the ambiguity between fiction and reality. It is an almost intimate confession of a man who is both complicit in and an architect of a system in which he no longer fits.