Those Russians. So many contributions to the world -- the space race, vodka, vowel-deprived surnames, hockey players, vodka, the AK-47, hot tennis players, communism, vodka. And let’s not forget to add filmmaker Andrey Zvyagintsev whose latest film, the dour Russian drama Leviathan, is a heartbreaking, vodka-soaked portrait of political corruption in modern-day Russia. We know it’s modern day by the cell phones and late model cars, but the subject matter and themes would feel welcome in the age of Peter the Great.

That biblical sea monster of the film’s title is a wonderful reference to any number of the film’s subjects and hints at the creative genius of Zvyagintsev and his co-writer Oleg Negin. Their leviathan may be the giant decaying whale carcasses that populate the coastal sands of their Russian village setting. Or it may be the local Orthodox priest who quotes from the Old Testament Book of Job. Perhaps it’s the vastness of the surrounding Barents Sea landscape that threatens to swallow up the inhabitants of this remote spot? I like to think of it as a reference to the town’s Provincial Mayor and principle antagonist Vadim (Ramon Madyanov), a drunken behemoth of a man who personifies Russian corruption and abuse of authority.

Vadim’s current victim is Kolya (Aleksey Serebryakov), a hard-working local auto mechanic who lives with his dainty wife, Lilya (Elena Lyadova), and son from a previous marriage in the home Kolya built with his own hands. To Vadim, the land represents the perfect piece of seaside real estate for future development, but to Kolya, it’s his ancestral home. It represents freedom -- man’s sole true possession.

As the film opens we see Kolya in court facing the fate of his long-gestating case against eminent domain. In a humorously extended scene, the court’s clerk rattles off the appeal denials in an almost Kafka-esque caricature of the Russian judicial system. Kolya is left with nowhere to turn. But he has an ace up his sleeve in the form of former war buddy Dmitriy (Vladimir Vdovichenkov), now a high-powered Moscow attorney with knowledge of how to handle such matters. But getting an injunction against the court’s ruling -- and the subsequent order to destroy Kolya’s house – goes nowhere… until Dmitriy fights fire with fire by presenting a folder detailing Mayor Vadim’s questionable transgressions. However, Vadim isn’t going down without a fight of his own.

Though very like Hollywood in its setup, Zvyagintsev’s version will go nowhere near such a predictable path. After all, this is a Russian film with classic Russian literary traits and from Zvyagintsev, whose earlier The Return displayed similar fatalistic tendencies. Leviathan is a bleak, dreary Russian epic that, while classic in its characteristics, displays a fresh modernity that fits in nicely with the template of any of today’s modern gangster tales.

Zvyagintsev has an obvious fascination and compassion for his characters. He holds them at arm’s length for thorough examination. They swim in vodka, emptying bottles at a time. And don’t think Americans have cornered the market on the fascination with firearms. There’s a second act scene that would be devastatingly tragic were it not so funny. During a picnic, the main characters down several bottles of vodka before taking target practice with handguns, rifles and even fully automatic AK-47s. Their targets? Framed portraits of former Soviet leaders, minus Boris Yeltsin -- he’s too recent, they say.

Though set in Russia, the story is actually inspired by real events that took place in the United States. But corruption, abuse, and rampant bureaucracy know no borders. Zvyagintsev’s unique artistic vision – while never abandoning his Russian sensibilities -- sets his film apart and makes it worthy of its recent Oscar nomination for best foreign film. Leviathan emerges as a beautiful film, with stunning images of Russia’s Kola Peninsula starring in nearly every scene. Still, with a misery index of eleven, it’s a tough film to get through, especially during the third act which yields a bit too much of its storytelling efficiency to classic Russian literary themes.

(Released by Sony Pictures Classics and rated “R” for language and some sexuality/graphic nudity.)

Review also posted at www.franksreelreviews.com.