FILM REVIEW - The Last Station

Christopher Plummer stars as Leo Tolstoy in a biopic of his final days of life

By Joe Miller

The impassioned life and prolific writings of Russian novelist LeoTolstoy ought to provide even the most incompetent filmmaker with enough material to produce a respectable work. Woefully, however, director and writer Michael Hoffman’s lacklustre attempt at historical drama plays out more like a Pythonesque sketch, in which neither the subject nor the artist emerge with any credibility whatsoever.

The plot of The Last Station, if there can be said to be one, focuses on the ebbing days of Tolstoy’s life (Christopher Plummer), and his
devotion to a radical form of pacifism and communal ownership: the ‘Tolstoyan Movement.’ Vladimir Chertkov (Paul Giamatti), a sycophantically devoted follower of the movement, hires Valentin Bulgakov (James McAvoy) – a young man overawed by the renowned author and his ideologies – as Tolstoy’s private

secretary.
    
The growth of Tolstoyanism causes great distress to Tolstoy’s ever-suffering wife, Sofya, (Helen Mirren), particularly as Chertkov surreptitiously moves to try and convince the ageing writer to relinquish the copyright of his works to the public domain, thus leaving the family without any of the profits. The feud that consequently erupts between Tolstoy and Sofya eventually causes the frustrated man to abandon his country estate and seek a life of solitude. The rest, as they say, is history.

Quite how Tolstoy’s sensational final years have become the subject of such a pitifully poor production is the only element of wonder in this work. The calibre of the distinguished ensemble cast is such that one would think them capable of salvaging even the direst of productions, but sadly they seem unable to avoid being dragged down into this pile of cinematic morass.

Plummer looks remarkably similar to the ageing Tolstoy, but that is where the accolades for his role ought to stop; his characterisation of the famed author descends at times into farcical pantomime. McAvoy exhibits a sustained look of loathing which betrays the deep regret he evidently feels for signing up to this doomed project. The always-effervescent Helen Millen is the only one to emerge with her dignity intact, her poignant portrayal of Tolstoy’s tortured wife Sofya serving only to highlight the gross inadequacies of those surrounding her.