Empire V

One consequence of the Russian invasion of Ukraine has been the exclusion of Russian films from most film festivals around the world, so you might reasonably wonder what this one is doing at the 2023 Fantasia International Film Festival. The answer is simple: this is a film which the Russian government doesn’t want anybody to see. It’s outright banned on its home turf, and one of its stars, who spoke out against the war, has been declared a foreign agent. Adapted from Viktor Pelevin’s novel, it is fantastical in its themes, but – though you may miss some of its more specific jibes – you don’t need to be Russian yourself to appreciate it as satire. The book was published in 2006 but events since then have only served to increase its relevance.

Part of the trick with satire is reaching the audience most in need of a shift in perspective. Empire V uses the familiar focal point of a seemingly ordinary young man (Pavel Tabakov) who is abruptly granted special powers and persuaded that a great deal depends on him. We never know much about his origins and he doesn’t seem to have any family or friends – at least, no-one whom he is not happy to leave behind. He inherits the name of Rama from the vampire who creates him, who then dies, leaving him strapped to a frame with no idea how to handle what has just happened to him.

Fortunately for the new Rama, help is at hand. He is soon rescued by other vampires who talk to him about his new nature, the tongue creature which now lives in his mouth, the worms to which it is somehow related (which might make fans of Guillermo Del Toro’s The Strain sit up and take notice), and the giant alien space bat from whom they are all descended. You will have to take this in your stride – he, being 19 and suddenly in possession of a handsomely appointed mansion, doesn’t bat (ahem) an eyelid. He’s also quite happy to go along with his new instructors as they teach him the all-important arts of Glamour and Discourse, as well as some fancy martial arts and techniques for getting into bed with women who would otherwise be out of his league. The uncomfortable reaction he gets when he reveals the latter sets the tone for the rest of the film, inviting us to question the heroic narrative which he’s trying to create for himself, just as we are later invited to question his smug fashion sense.

Young as he is, and without any anchor in the non-vampiric world, Rama doesn’t really seem to know what he wants, except to impress those around him who seem to have the most power. He also develops a clumsy crush on Hera (Taya Radchenko), a young woman who is admitted to vampire training at the same time as him and mentored by the original Rama’s arch enemy, Mitra (Miron Fedorov, otherwise known as the rapper Oxxxymiron). She’s a bit more clued-in than him and not easily impressed, treating him more like a pet than a love interest, but their relationship develops in complicated ways as she begins to engage actively in the political games in which he is just a pawn. When he gets into trouble, it’s generally because of his ego, which is itself a shrewd comment on the political systems which Pelevin set out to explore.

Some of the special effects here are pretty crude, but serve a purpose, and overall the cinematography has the sleek elegance of the vampire world as Rama perceives it. In the later stages of the film, director Victor Ginzburg takes us away from the grand halls and ballrooms of serially repurposed imperial era palaces and down back corridors into underground chambers in pursuit of the real source of power. This is closely tied to the way the vampires feed – not on blood per se, but on the distilled essence of money, which is sucked out of ordinary mortals at a population level. Pelevin and Ginzburg’s monsters are not concerned with individual humans – their ambitions are larger, their control more absolute. Increasingly indoctrinated as he is, but retaining more humanity than those around him, can Rama find a way to fight back or to establish a destiny of his own?

Whilst the English title functions as a pun which the film plays on, the Russian one, Aмпир В, presents a different word game, implying that the very concept of empire is innately exploitative in this way. The satire isn’t subtle but has to balance the fact that much of what we see is essentially propaganda created by the vampire elite, as disseminated through their human puppets. There are, of course, anti-Semitic conspiracy theories which have traits in common with all this; careful work in casting and production steers viewers away from falling into that trap, whilst it is established that the vampires sow conflict and distrust amongst mortals as a means of shoring up their position. Russian viewers will pick up on more specific political barbs which contribute to a current of black humour recontextualising the action.

Whilst it’s difficult to translate a book heavily focused on private thoughts to the screen without getting too introspective for the subject to maintain its glamour, Ginsburg has given it a good shot, and there is a lot here which fans will enjoy. Despite the Russian government’s action, which tells us something about how it sees itself, he has made a valuable contribution to the discourse.