'White tiger' is two different movies inelegantly and unconvincingly smashed into one, and this lack of harmony is its downfall.
The first element, which dominates roughly two-thirds of the runtime, is an interesting one. It's a war film, imparting the story of a Soviet tank assigned to hunt down an elusive Nazi tank. But it's also in no small part a fantasy film: the protagonist is effectively a legendary hero, and the enemy tank a mythical creature. Even the occasional feature blending the war genre with horror (David Twohy's 'Below,' for example) feels less abjectly whimsical than this. It's an intriguing approach, and one way or another, the first element is very enjoyable and keeps us watching.
Perhaps someone well-versed in military history will find fault with the details, but I for one quite enjoy the attention given to realizing the first element. The tanks we see look great, inside and out, and the costume design is eye-catching. Filming locations and set design are swell, working to the same purpose of visualizing the Eastern front. Careful sound design, makeup and prosthetics, and special effects - including abundant pyrotechnics - depict harrowing battle conditions, substantial destruction, and horrific injuries.
Characters are mostly set pieces, present only to help sell the story, and as a result it's difficult to remark on the performances of the assembled cast as being anything other than suitable. The heart of the first element of 'White tiger' is most certainly in the technical craft, the story told through the visuals, and the garnishing narrative that flavors the affair. The production design is outstanding, making for a riveting ride no matter how you look at it otherwise. Director Karen Shakhnazarov has orchestrated some fine scenes, action sequences most of all, and while the camerawork isn't particularly distinguished, Shakhnazarov ensures we get as complete a view as possible of every aspect on display.
But then we're brought to the second element of 'White tiger,' and in the last approximate third, the movie literally loses the plot. The clock suddenly advances to the end of World War II, Germany's surrender, and quiet meetings between figures of one stature or another. The action-oriented feature we watched for 60 or so minutes is over, and instead we get a 30-minute denouement that's at best tangentially related to the first element. The shift is so jolting that I thought the platform where I was watching the movie had somehow accidentally dropped me into the middle of a totally different feature. The connective tissue that would link the two parts is simply not realized.
Maybe the novel 'White tiger' is adapted from is more whole, but without that point of comparison, I can only speak to the screenplay co-written by Shakhnazarov with Aleksandr Borodyansky. And there are some really great ideas in that screenplay which, if meaningfully explored, could have done more to unite the film's two disparate elements, or which would have further elevated the first element if it were (I wistfully yearn) the entirety of the feature. These ideas include a fantastical notion that protagonist Naydenov and the antagonistic titular vehicle were both born - created - from war itself. These ideas include an even more fantastical concept, revealed primarily in a single scene of dialogue, that Naydenov's fight against the phantom tank is a religious crusade bestowed by the Tank God with whom he communes: the film could have been equal parts war movie and religious picture. Furthermore, there are themes present of the constancy of war, human nature, and - well, anything else the movie tries to light upon is done in such a ham-fisted way that it's not even worth mentioning.
Yet none of these ideas are allowed to mature and bear fruit in 'White tiger.' The writing thusly becomes a hodgepodge of action flick and post-war drama, with the two elements being almost entirely exclusive and distinct from one another. This could have genuinely been a great movie, but its shoddy construction dooms it. I'm disappointed to the point of being angry at how ill-considered this was.
The first element of 'White tiger' is marvelous, if somewhat incomplete as is. The second element is solid enough in concept that it could have been expanded into its own feature film, but as it appears here it is less than satisfying. The disorderly, slipshod, ill-fitting manner in which these two elements are conjoined reduces the assemblage into an unrespectable mess.
Clearly this has an admiring audience who better appreciates what it has to offer, and I'm just not a part of it. I hardly know what else to say at this point, except for that, to summarize, I think 'White tiger' was simply shaped very poorly. Except possibly for viewers with a profound interest in war movies, I can't especially imagine recommending this to anyone.
One thumb up, one irritated thumb down.
The first element, which dominates roughly two-thirds of the runtime, is an interesting one. It's a war film, imparting the story of a Soviet tank assigned to hunt down an elusive Nazi tank. But it's also in no small part a fantasy film: the protagonist is effectively a legendary hero, and the enemy tank a mythical creature. Even the occasional feature blending the war genre with horror (David Twohy's 'Below,' for example) feels less abjectly whimsical than this. It's an intriguing approach, and one way or another, the first element is very enjoyable and keeps us watching.
Perhaps someone well-versed in military history will find fault with the details, but I for one quite enjoy the attention given to realizing the first element. The tanks we see look great, inside and out, and the costume design is eye-catching. Filming locations and set design are swell, working to the same purpose of visualizing the Eastern front. Careful sound design, makeup and prosthetics, and special effects - including abundant pyrotechnics - depict harrowing battle conditions, substantial destruction, and horrific injuries.
Characters are mostly set pieces, present only to help sell the story, and as a result it's difficult to remark on the performances of the assembled cast as being anything other than suitable. The heart of the first element of 'White tiger' is most certainly in the technical craft, the story told through the visuals, and the garnishing narrative that flavors the affair. The production design is outstanding, making for a riveting ride no matter how you look at it otherwise. Director Karen Shakhnazarov has orchestrated some fine scenes, action sequences most of all, and while the camerawork isn't particularly distinguished, Shakhnazarov ensures we get as complete a view as possible of every aspect on display.
But then we're brought to the second element of 'White tiger,' and in the last approximate third, the movie literally loses the plot. The clock suddenly advances to the end of World War II, Germany's surrender, and quiet meetings between figures of one stature or another. The action-oriented feature we watched for 60 or so minutes is over, and instead we get a 30-minute denouement that's at best tangentially related to the first element. The shift is so jolting that I thought the platform where I was watching the movie had somehow accidentally dropped me into the middle of a totally different feature. The connective tissue that would link the two parts is simply not realized.
Maybe the novel 'White tiger' is adapted from is more whole, but without that point of comparison, I can only speak to the screenplay co-written by Shakhnazarov with Aleksandr Borodyansky. And there are some really great ideas in that screenplay which, if meaningfully explored, could have done more to unite the film's two disparate elements, or which would have further elevated the first element if it were (I wistfully yearn) the entirety of the feature. These ideas include a fantastical notion that protagonist Naydenov and the antagonistic titular vehicle were both born - created - from war itself. These ideas include an even more fantastical concept, revealed primarily in a single scene of dialogue, that Naydenov's fight against the phantom tank is a religious crusade bestowed by the Tank God with whom he communes: the film could have been equal parts war movie and religious picture. Furthermore, there are themes present of the constancy of war, human nature, and - well, anything else the movie tries to light upon is done in such a ham-fisted way that it's not even worth mentioning.
Yet none of these ideas are allowed to mature and bear fruit in 'White tiger.' The writing thusly becomes a hodgepodge of action flick and post-war drama, with the two elements being almost entirely exclusive and distinct from one another. This could have genuinely been a great movie, but its shoddy construction dooms it. I'm disappointed to the point of being angry at how ill-considered this was.
The first element of 'White tiger' is marvelous, if somewhat incomplete as is. The second element is solid enough in concept that it could have been expanded into its own feature film, but as it appears here it is less than satisfying. The disorderly, slipshod, ill-fitting manner in which these two elements are conjoined reduces the assemblage into an unrespectable mess.
Clearly this has an admiring audience who better appreciates what it has to offer, and I'm just not a part of it. I hardly know what else to say at this point, except for that, to summarize, I think 'White tiger' was simply shaped very poorly. Except possibly for viewers with a profound interest in war movies, I can't especially imagine recommending this to anyone.
One thumb up, one irritated thumb down.