Citizen X
(1995)
(SPOILERS) Twenty years ago, HBO made an
extremely decent TV movie (surprising, I know, HBO making extremely decent TV) about
the Andrei Chikatilo serial killer case. Low key, fairly unpolished, but
superbly scripted and acted, Citizen X
knocks the recent Child 44 into a cocked
ushanka.
Chris Gerolmo’s Hollywood career hasn’t
been too prolific, the screenplay for Mississippi
Burning aside. This was his first directorial effort, and it’s a bit rough
around the edges (yet conversely featuring some nice, simple touches), but the
quality of his script is unquestionable. Based on Robert Cullen’s The Killer Department, Citizen X documents the decade-long
quest to capture the first (recognised) Soviet serial killer, a mission
continually hampered by bureaucracy and propaganda.
Victor Burakov (Stephen Rea) a forensic specialist
tasked with examining the first eight bodies (the victims would end up numbering
52) found buried and decaying on a collective farm in 1982, is appointed by
Colonel Fetisov (Donald Sutherland) to lead the case, his first taste of
official detective work. On first showing Fetisov is a bit of a bastard, taking
cheap shots at Burakov’s presentation (“Next
time, a little less diligence and a little more hygiene”) in front of the
presiding committee headed by Bondarchuk (Joss Ackland, on typically loathsome
form). But it soon becomes apparent that the conflict between Burakov and
Fetisov is one of approach rather than objective. Fetisov has years of
experience to guide him, knowing what does and doesn’t work under the Soviet
system.
Burakov, earnest and blunt, announces to
the committee “It is clear that we have a
serial killer on our hands, already the most prolific in Russian history”,
to which Bondarchuk bluntly asserts “There
are no serial killers in the Soviet state. It is a decadent western phenomenon”.
Burakov’s intuitions are fundamentally sound (he realises the killer is using
the train system, and puts a watch on stations), but poo-pooed by his
superiors, such that they bring in investigator Gorbunov (John Wood) who wants
to concentrate his search on homosexuals (seized upon enthusiastically by
Bondarchuk, in a plot twist that is pointed but a little too convenient).
Burakov learns the hard way about the need
to finesse a situation to get what one wants (or to say what needs to be heard
and then do what you want to do anyway). His list of what is needed to progress
the investigation (more men, computers, publicity and contact with the FBI)
falls on deaf ears, since it admits inadequacy and, worse still, announces it.
At one point the spectre of the Secret Police taking him away is raised, as the
vituperative Bondarchuk asserts “Wouldn’t
you say that you yourself would make a good suspect?” (there are some fine
little complementary scenes where Imelda Staunton, as Burakov’s devoted wife,
sooths her husband’s troubled brow).
It reaches the point where, after five
years on the case, the sensitive and diligent Burakov has a breakdown (“Is the man to whom we have entrusted the
safety of our children crying?”) and it’s the point where Fetisov comes out
from behind his deference and stands by his man. Fetisov later apologises, on
learning how the FBI rotates its staff of serial killer cases every 18 months
due to the damage prolonged exposure can do to the psyche.
The relationship between Burakov and
Fetisov is a delight of growing respect, playfulness and ribbing. The witty
Fetisov’s sense of humour slowly rubs off on Burakov, while Fetisov discovers
that after “spending enough time with a
lion, the idea of roaring seems more and more reasonable”. Gerolmo’s
dialogue is a constant pleasure, and he has assembled a perfect cast, rather
than starry faces, to deliver it. Fetisov advises that “The strength of bureaucracy is measured by its ability to resist giving
anyone special treatment”. In response to an early accusation from Burakov
regarding his willingness to please his superiors, he casually comments “You’re right. I should spend more time
trying to alienate them. Perhaps you could teach me”.
Sutherland is quite marvellous in the role
of Fetisov. Always an underrated actor, he’s an easy go-to as a villain (The Hunger Games) but at his best when
allowed to give his natural quirkiness and sense of humour free rein. Instructing
a squad of guards to make their “Stop and Search” policy abundantly clear, as a
means to entrap the killer, he asks them if they think they can perform this role
without subtlety, discretion or tact, to which they respond as one “Yes, Comrade General!”.
Fetisov does
manage to enable one of Burakov’s requests, that of bringing in a psychiatrist
to consult on the case. The Exorcist-like,
the specialist in question turns out to be Max von Sydow’s Dr Bukhanovsky, prone
to such insights concerning the duo as “May
I say, together you make a wonderful person”. Indeed, Rea and Sutherland
exchange the same line of dialogue when they both blow gaskets at different
points (“You handled that quite deftly”).
The chemistry between them is so strong that it’s an embarrassment of riches
when von Sydow also enters the scene (“Being
a hero is enormously taxing. I’ve only been doing it seven or eight minutes and
already I feel enormously enervated”). His scene as interrogator is a master
class in straightforwardness as, after seven days of Gorbunov grilling the
suspect to no response, Bukhanovsky simply reads Chikatilo (Jeffrey DeMunn) the
report he has prepared; so profound are the insights that the murderer breaks
down and confesses.
DeMunn, most recently seen as a notable
regular in The Walking Dead, gives a
powerfully contained performance as Chikatilo (except when committing his
murderous acts). As a colleague of Burakov comments at one point, “I don’t think he’s savage enough” (Gerolmo
is mostly oblique with regard to showing his most extreme behaviour). His
reveal as a family man goes against the expected serial killer form (in movies
at least; there seem to be quite enough Fred Wests and John Christies in the
real world), and it might be said the connection between his day-to-day
stresses and outlet of murder is a little too systematic; if he has a bad day on
the job (“This is the man who stopped our
work today” announces his superior, parading him on the shop floor) or at home
(“Pathetic” mutters his wife Tusse
Silberg after failed sexual congress), off he trots to the station. But DeMunn
makes Chikatilo all the more chilling for being resolutely average, rather than
overtly depraved.
Gerolmo’s directorial approach is mostly
unadorned, but he adopts different methods to illustrate Chikatilo’s acts; the killing
of children is sensitively, rather than gratuitously, portrayed (repeated falling
bodies in slow motion). Chikatilo’s cannibalism is limited to one shot, of his
bloodied face, but it’s all that’s needed to make the point. This contrasts
with the stark frenzy as he repeatedly stabs a woman (one wonders if Fincher
saw this before making Zodiac). The pathological
details of the killer’s sexual impulses and acts are discussed in matter-of
fact-detail, something one might expect a big screen version to skirt around. Then
there’s the transgressive manner in which a boy urinating in a field uncovers a
corpse, a visual metaphor for the way in which the state has refused to admit
to what is going on, allowing the case to drag on at the cost of more casually
forgotten lives.
Citizen
X benefits from the lack of thriller trappings, not
required to turn its narrative into a race against time or amp up the tension
of the hunt. The hindrances to Burakov’s investigations are integral to the
story, and it’s more than six years after bringing in Chikatilo for initial
questioning (“Are you aware that your
suspect is a member of the communist party?” lambasts Bondarchuk) that he
is finally apprehended. Child 44 is
expensive and glossy, with a showy central performance from Tom Hardy that couldn’t
be more different to Rea’s contained, pensive empathy, but it completely fails
to tell its (sprawling and reframed) story, while also lifting a notable visual
from this feature (the crushing of a kopek on rail tracks). Yet, despite
sticking determinedly to the very grim details of the case, Citizen X is frequently a very funny piece.
Gerolmo understands and navigates expertly the need for such fare to respect
the horrors involved while balancing the accessible human element. Citizen X can currently be found on
YouTube.
