My Variety Review: "Patriots" on Broadway

In Peter Morgan’s tantalizing but disappointing new play “Patriots,” Boris Berezovsky is presented as a larger-than-life oligarch in a post-Soviet Russia who transforms Vladimir Putin from a middling “nobody” to an autocrat who will transform his country in ways unforeseen at home or globally.

There’s an expectation that in Morgan’s latest merging of historic fact and fiction that the writer of “The Crown” on TV, “The Audience” on stage and “The Queen” on film will once again provide an intimate and revealing look behind another well-guarded curtain, this time one that is made of iron.

But on this foreign turf Morgan’s footing is less sure, he’s less able to speak with the native authenticity that he brought to his other, far richer works. These charmless characters are broadly outlined, psychologically shallow and simplistically played.

The premise for this West End-to-Broadway transfer is intriguing at first, especially to audiences unfamiliar with the major forces at play in Russian politics of the ’90s: the breakup of the Soviet Union, the privatization of state property and the rise of oligarchs who rule as gangster capitalists.

At the center of “Patriots” is a power play between two men with vastly different ideas about the future of Russia, with each seeing himself as the true “patriot” needed to save his country. One man is hot with confidence and flamboyance; the other is strategic and cool; both righteous, both ruthless. But under Rupert Gold’s unsubtle direction, there are no other degrees on this theatrical thermostat.

Morgan’s Berezovsky (Michael Stuhlbarg) sees a country that is increasingly lawless, corrupt and out of control as an opportunity for a more progressive Russia to emerge under his godfather-like guidance. This multi-billionaire well understands that with an endless supply of money and vast control of the media, his influence is infinite.

Indeed, discussions about the nature of infinity, both mathematical and philosophical, are overlaid by Morgan over this simplified history to give it a veneer of existential profundity — as well as a glimpse into this protagonist’s past. With flashbacks to Berezovsky’s boyhood when he was a math prodigy, the brash kid is shown to have had a calculating mind from the start, in more ways than one.

By contrast, Morgan’s Putin (Will Keen, compelling in his rigid minimalism and clenched voice) is first seen as a deferential deputy mayor of St. Petersburg, practically disappearing into his drab, ill-fitting suit but still steadfast in declining the bribes offered by Berezovsky. But that moral high ground shifts after Putin is voted out of office and he seeks Berezovsky’s help in getting him back into some position of power, in return for which he would be grateful and loyal.

With Berezovsky’s control of major media propping up a dysfunctional President Boris Yeltsin (Paul Kynman, an astonishing lookalike), he is able to convince Yeltsin’s influential daughter Tatiana (Camila Cano-Flavia) to make Putin prime minister, imagining him a flunky who can do their bidding to help shape Russia’s future.

But when Yeltsin unexpectedly resigns and the once non-descript governmental functionary suddenly becomes president, things change quickly and Berezovsky discovers he no longer holds the strings. Putin sees his destiny — and Russia’s — in a vastly different light than his enabler.

After humiliating Putin on television, the oligarch soon finds himself not only out in the cold, but out of the country, finding political asylum in England with no path back.

In a sprawling work that is bizarrely set and staged in what looks like a nightclub of oligarchs, historic milestones and plot points whiz by — and are perhaps better suited for a TV mini-series in which they can be presented with less disjointed haste.

There’s an assassination attempt, the Kursk submarine disaster, a complicated London trial, a hit-list poisoning, dashes of antisemitism, a quick cameo by Pussy Riot protesters, Putin’s consolidation of power, and an oligarch’s questionable death. There’s also some finger wagging for the West’s missed opportunity in not taking this former KGB operative seriously.

As Berezovsky, Stuhlbarg makes bold — usually far too bold — physical choices in portraying the playful and hyperactive character, often making him a capering, cringy clown enraptured by his own ego, power and invincibility.  

In comparison, Keen’s ticking time bomb of a performance as the steely Putin is more gripping in its stillness. In the beginning it conveys powerlessness, but after he becomes president, and with a slight alteration of suit and spine, it signals chilling authority. It’s an artful calibration, but Morgan’s thin psychology of the enigmatic Putin falls short.

Performances on a more human scale include an impressive Luke Thallon as Roman Abramovich, an ally to Berezovsky who navigates a new alliance with Putin when his fellow oligarch self-destructs. There’s also Alex Hurt’s dignified Alexander Litvinenko, Berezovsky’s chief of security, an honest cop trapped in political machinations beyond his control.

The role of women in this Russian alpha universe, though, is marginal. If they’re there at all it’s as a quick snapshot depicting a bothersome wife, loving spouse, hopeful mother or one of Berezovsky’s many anonymous mistresses.

Hovering over the play’s look back at this recent Russian past is the unsettling knowledge of the all-too-real present. Audiences may simply not buy Morgan’s oligarch as a tragic hero and his Putin as a man who brought order out of chaos, who played the numbers better than the prodigy, and who, without irony, viewed himself as a patriot.