In a recent appearance, actor Jude Law remarked he “didn’t fear any repercussions” for playing the Russian leader in a new film. The movie, though, could coincide so closely with the mythologized version promoted by Russian state media that, domestically, it reads as a endorsement instead of a critique.
For years, the Russian political apparatus and its entertainment industry have collaborated to forge a made-to-measure persona of Putin. This character is an infallible strategist without age or mistakes, an ex-intelligence officer reimagined as a local 007 who always knows beyond what he shows.
“In Russia, the manufactured Putin has long overshadowed the actual person.”
A notable instance is a TV series launched last fall, helmed by a pro-government filmmaker. Its main character is a invented blue-eyed lieutenant colonel selected by fate to “save” Russia from chaos. Although he is called Mikhail, the implication is unmistakable: the savior must be a familiar security officer.
International depictions often end up buttressing this identical story instead of debunking it. A new film based on a popular book aims to subvert the leader's mythology by framing him as a symptom but as a consequence, moving the focus to the political machinery around him.
On screen, the president is presented as having been picked by powerful oligarchs to stabilise the country because he is “a fit former intelligence agent”. The oligarchs approach him and practically plead him to take the top job. He replies is that he would rather govern from the shadows, desiring enduring influence.
This narrative is the Kremlin’s export myth: the detached, unwilling mastermind guided by fate. Historically, none of this took place.
Nobody ever begged him to take the job. The position was effectively a selection process with no shortage of contenders. At the centre to this process stood a powerful businessman from the Yeltsin era who planned to control the country de facto.
“The goal wasn't a strong candidate, they needed someone controllable, someone who would follow instructions.”
Analysts concur that the image of him as a powerful KGB spy was built after the fact. Claims about his “recruitment work” in East Germany do not stand up to scrutiny. In essence, he was an administrator and routine duties, a mid-level functionary not involved with field operations.
Curiously, the move to depicting him as a “spy” could partly have been inspired by the actor's arrival as 007. His harder interpretation prompted local outlets and online audiences to make comparisons with Putin. Edited images swapping Craig’s face with Putin’s appeared on city centers, feeding the growing tendency to see him as a Russian 007.
Given the casting, an actor well-liked by viewers there, the Kremlin are likely to seize the opportunity to portray this choice as a small victory. The film's omission of public dissent, the opposition, or prominent activists from its narrative, despite covering recent years, is a welcome aspect for state propaganda.
In Russian cinema, Putin is frequently an omnipotent figure who never appears directly. His influence is signaled through portraits or orders from on high. In this new film, he at last gets a recognizable face—one that could unintentionally echo the exact legends it perhaps aims to question.
A geospatial analyst with over a decade of experience in terrain modeling and environmental data visualization.
