The Thief (Vor)

A Film Review by James Berardinelli
RATING: *** out of ****
Russia, 1997
U.S. Release Date: 7/31/98 (limited)
Running Length: 1:35
MPAA Classification: R (Sex, nudity, profanity)
Theatrical Aspect Ratio: 1.85:1

Cast: Vladimir Mashkov, Yekaterina Rednikova, Misha Philipchuk
Director: Pavel Chukhrai
Producer: Igor Tolstunov
Screenplay: Pavel Chukhrai
Cinematography: Vladimir Klimov
Music: Vladimir Dashkevich
U.S. Distributor: Lions Gate Films
In Russian with English subtitles

The Thief is a story of hero worship that recounts what happens when a young boy chooses the wrong role model. It's also an examination of the way a person's impressions of the world change from childhood to adulthood, and how the simple innocence of a 6 year-old's outlook is doomed to mutate in the face of life's harsh realities. The Thief relates the memories of Sanya, a forty-something Russian who looks back on his early years with an unbiased eye. His voiceover narration is sparse, giving us the bare details of time, place, and background, and reminding us of how uncertain our childhood recollections are. Director Pavel Chukhrai uses this perspective to present a child's point-of-view filtered through the vision of an adult.

It's 1946 Russia, and the war is over. A young woman, Katya (Yekaterina Rednikova), collapses in the roadside mud and gives birth to a baby boy. Her husband, injured in combat, has been dead for six months. The child, whom she names Sanya, will never know his real father (although he has mystical visions of a ghost-like apparition), and his life is destined to be one of poverty, disappointment, and despair. Six years later, when Sanya (Misha Philipchuk) and his mother are traveling across Russia by train, they encounter Tolyan (Vladimir Mashkov), a dashing soldier who sweeps Katya off her feet and charms young Sanya. By the time the train ride is over, the three have become a makeshift family, with Katya posing as Tolyan's wife and Sanya as his son. Tolyan is a little too rough to be the ideal father figure, but he forms a bond with the boy and teaches him some difficult lessons, emphasizing his belief that winning is everything and that respect is earned only through fear.

Katya's idyllic "marriage" doesn't last long, however. Shortly after she, Tolyan, and Sanya move into a communal apartment, she discovers his source of income – he's a thief. And, while Tolyan thinks of his occupation as nothing more than a means to provide for himself, Katya sees the misery those thefts bring to his victims. As the trio flees from town to town to avoid the authorities, Tolyan's lifestyle begins to exact an emotional price from Katya. For her sake and her son's, she wants to leave Tolyan, but she can't find the courage to do so because she has nowhere else to go.

The conclusion of The Thief delivers a blunt and telling blow that offers one plausible explanation for why children act violently. What's most important about this key scene is the matter-of-fact manner in which it is presented. Chukhrai gives it no greater significance than any other moment in Sanya's remembrances. This approach highlights the tragedy of lost innocence.

The Thief is characterized by three strong performances. Vladimir Mashkov fashions Tolyan into a character who is frightening, charming, and likable at the same time. Yekaterina Rednikova gives a poignant portrayal as the luckless Katya. The real discovery, however, is young Misha Philipchuk, one of those rare child actors who is capable of giving a completely natural performance. Philipchuk displays Sanya's joy, anger, frustration, and pain as if they were happening to him. One wonders how Chukhrai was able to coax such a believable portrayal from the least-experienced member of his cast.

The Thief was the Russian nominee for 1998's Best Foreign Language Film, and is evidence of the progression of movie making in the post-Soviet era. There is more to this picture than just an affecting story; for those who care to look, there's plenty of symbolism. The way Tolyan manipulates and occasionally brutalizes Katya and Sanya is clearly intended to be a metaphor for Stalin's unstable relationship with the entire country. To emphasize this point, there is a tattoo of the dictator emblazoned on Tolyan's chest. Elements like this add a further level of depth to an otherwise compelling film, making The Thief one of Russia's best recent cinematic exports.

© 1998 James Berardinelli


Back Up