Last year, actor Jude Law remarked he “didn’t fear any repercussions” for portraying Vladimir Putin in a cinematic adaptation. This production, though, could coincide too neatly with the mythologized version promoted by Russian state media that, within Russia, it reads as a compliment rather than a critique.
For years, the Russian political apparatus and the country's entertainment industry have collaborated to forge a made-to-measure version of the president. This character is a political superhero without age or mistakes, an ex-intelligence officer reframed as a local 007 who always knows beyond what he shows.
“Domestically, the manufactured Putin has long overshadowed the actual person.”
One recent example is a TV series launched last October, directed by a Kremlin supporter. Its main character is a fictional security officer inexplicably chosen to “save” Russia from disorder. Although he is called a different name, the implication is unmistakable: the hero must be a known figure from the secret services.
Western portrayals frequently result in reinforcing this same narrative instead of undercutting it. An adaptation inspired by a popular book aims to subvert the leader's mythology by presenting him as a symptom but as a consequence, moving the narrative weight to the political machinery surrounding him.
In the film, Putin is presented as having been picked by powerful oligarchs to stabilise the nation because he is “young, athletic and a spy”. They visit 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 tale is a key piece of state propaganda: the cool, reluctant strategist guided by fate. Historically, none of this took place.
Nobody actually pleaded with him to take the job. The position was in essence a casting call with many candidates. Central to this process stood a powerful businessman from the previous administration who expected to run the state de facto.
“They didn’t need a strong candidate, they needed someone malleable, someone who would follow instructions.”
Analysts concur that the image of Putin as a powerful KGB spy was built after the fact. Claims about his “recruitment work” in Dresden fall apart under examination. In essence, he handled paperwork and technical tasks, a mid-level functionary not involved with actual agent work.
Curiously, the move to depicting him as a “spy” could partly have been triggered by Daniel Craig’s debut as James Bond. His harder version led Russian media and social media to draw visual parallels with Putin. Edited images replacing Craig’s face with Putin’s surfaced on city centers, fueling the growing tendency to see him as a local secret agent.
Given the casting, an star popular with viewers there, the authorities will not miss the chance to frame his casting as a minor diplomatic triumph. The film's omission of public dissent, the opposition, or prominent activists in the story, even though it includes recent years, is a welcome aspect for state propaganda.
In Russian cinema, the president is frequently an all-powerful presence who never appears on screen. He is hinted at through photographs or orders from on high. In this new film, he at last gets a recognizable face—one that could unintentionally validate the exact legends it perhaps aims to question.
Elara is a digital artist and designer passionate about blending technology with creativity to inspire others.