Sputnik: A Solid Soviet-Era Sci-Fi Thriller
Sputnik marks the feature film debut of Russian director Egor Abramenko, who’s primarily known for his work in commercials and music videos. The film is an expansion to Abramenko’s 2017 short film The Passenger, and it offers audiences a soviet-era slant to the familiar conventions of Space Horror, which is bolstered by strong lead performances, fun creature design, and atmospheric dread.
Due to her controversial methods, young doctor Tatiana Yurievna (Oksana Akinshina) is on the precipice of losing her medical license. Her career may not be over, though. After she's recruited by the military, Tatiana is brought to a secure science research facility to assess a very special case, that of Konstantin Sergeyevich (Pyotr Fyodorov), a cosmonaut who survived a mysterious space accident and has returned to Earth with a unique condition: there's something living inside of him that only shows itself late at night. The military has nefarious plans for it. Tatiana wants to stop it from killing Konstantin. And the creature itself thrives on destruction.
Ridley Scott’s 1979 film, Alien, and its terrifyingly inventive extraterrestrial creature, which uses humans both as a host and feeding source, looms large over any Space Horror flick that came afterwards, Abramenko’s Sputnik being no exception. The film plays like an Alien-Arrival hybrid with the smooth, motion-focused direction of Christopher Nolan — minus the occasionally frustrating non-linear structure. With a lot of summer blockbusters cancelled or pushed to a fall release, Sputnik just might be the closest thing audiences will get this year in that regard, and as far as the Space Horror genre is concerned, it’s the best thing we’ve gotten (outside of the Alien franchise) in a long time (at least since Neill Blomkamp’s Oats Studios shorts from 2017; unless you count Richard Stanley’s Color Out of Space, which we do not).
Sputnik doesn’t reinvent the wheel here, but its Soviet-era setting separates it from its predominately-American predecessors, giving it a fresh angle and the right kind of vitality that get you excited about the genre again. It pulls from a lot of excellent sources (Alien, Arrival, Annihilation, The Shape of Water, to name a few), and while it doesn’t mask them enough to make you forget you’ve seen it before, it doesn’t hinder a viewer’s enjoyment either. Its 1983 period setting is masterfully captured (in large part to its superb shooting location, the Institute of Biochemistry of the Russian Academy of Sciences, which was founded in 1959 and is still operational), and it gives the story an interesting layer and depth; chief among them, the theme of individualism versus allegiance to the government. The way Sputnik uses its alien creature even opens the door to the question: what if the real oppressive totalitarian regime was inside of you?
Like the most effective Sci-Fi fare, Sputnik doesn’t just deliver slow-burning blockbuster thrills and chills; it’s also successful at getting you thinking. Some of the best and most effective pieces of the screenplay (written by Oleg Malovichko and Andrei Zolotarev) focus on the three central characters, who all represent a different shade of perspective within the near-collapsed Soviet Union: the cosmonaut with an alien in his belly, Konstantin (Pyotr Fyodorov); the young, controversial psychiatrist, Tatyana (Oksana Akinshina), who seeks to find a means of separating him from the creature; and Colonel Semiradov (Fyodor Bondarchuk), the government officer who symbolizes the Soviet system. The three leads give excellent performances, but Oksana Akinshina really steals the show, as she conjures up the strong, independent vibe of Sigourney Weaver’s Ellen Ripley. Pyotr Fyodorov gives Konstantin a palpable sense of heartbreak and Fyodor Bondarchuk adds some nice humanity to the villainous Colonel Semiradov.
Part of Sputnik’s fun is in its examination of its creature, as Tatyana attempts to find out if its parasitic or a symbiote (which may give comic book lovers some Venom vibes). The creature and its design (developed Main Road Post production house) is certainly one of the film’s highlights. It’s slithery, snake-inspired design was born out of Abramenko imagining what it would be like to have a snake living inside you that would slither in and out at night. The film is full of gory carnage, but it’s more so implied than explicitly shown. Flying the course of films like Jaws, the suggested violence makes things all the more terrifying and amplifies its creature. However, as things push toward a close, things start to devolve into a bit of cliche, landing on an oddly emotional note.
There’s some cross-cutting that doesn’t exactly gel and a B-story that seems underdeveloped, but overall, Sputnik is a well-crafted and mature horror film and one of 2020’s more interesting offerings. It’s an incredibly taut and steady-handed debut, so we look forward to seeing what Abramenko will do next.
Recommendation: If you love effectively atmospheric, slow-burning sci-fi thrillers like Arrival and Alien, definitely give Sputnik a day in court!
Rating: 3.5 close encounters outta 5.
What do you think? We want to know. Share your thoughts and feelings in the comments section below, and as always, remember to viddy well!