Review of David Cronenberg’s “Eastern Promises”

The following review contains spoilers regarding one of the film’s main characters, although the story’s main surprise is not revealed.

Given his apparent fascination with deviations from the norm, it’s not surprising that Canadian director David Cronenberg’s films have repeatedly explored sexualities that depart from the mainstream.

In M. Butterfly, he told the story of a man who falls in love with a male opera singer he initially believes to be a woman. In Crash, the main character’s journey of sexual awakening (however bizarre or horrifying this journey may have been) included an affair with another man. In A History of Violence, the main character’s son is bullied at school for being gay, forcing the teenager to weigh the wages of violent retaliation.

With his new film, the violent Russian mob drama Eastern Promises, Cronenberg has once again elected to explore homosexuality, this time in the context of a patriarchal, aggressive crime underworld. In including a deeply closeted gay mobster in his colorful ensemble, Cronenberg is, on the one hand, giving us another in an unfortunately rich cinematic history of gay villains. But the film’s refusal to condemn the character for his sexuality or to associate his sexuality with his criminality is notable, and the sensitivity with which the story is explored is unexpected and refreshing. The film may be brutal, but it is not cruel.

Eastern Promises’ main plot involves a baby delivered under the care of Anna (Naomi Watts, in fine, naturalistic form), a midwife at a London hospital. The young mother — she is only fourteen — dies in childbirth, leaving behind her baby and a diary written in Russian.

Anna’s attempts to discern the identity of the mother lead her to a Russian restaurant owned by Seymon (Armin Mueller-Stahl), the boss of a large Russian crime syndicate. He is succeeded by his only son, Kirill (Vincent Cassel), who has recently recruited his friend Nikolai (Viggo Mortensen) as a driver and thug.

The diary contains incriminating evidence about Seymon, and his attempts to get the book from Anna make up the primary storyline. But the bulk of the film is dedicated not to mechanical plot points, but to telling interactions amongst the crime “family”.

Boisterous, temperamental Kirill (the charismatic Cassel) is the family’s primary “heavy” and heir to the throne. He contrasts starkly with his new friend Nikolai, the very picture of Eastern European stoicism. Kirill drinks too much and yells too loudly. He is obviously starved for affection from his father that never arrives and is perhaps more emotionally attached to Nikolai than he would ever admit. It doesn’t take a degree in Freudian psychology to pick up the fact that Kirill is a deeply closeted homosexual.

One of the first times we see Kirill (after disposing of a corpse with Nikolai on Christmas), he’s incredibly drunk and celebratory. After Nikolai helps him into the restaurant, Kirill thanks him by lying at his feet and resting his head on Nikolai’s shoe. Disgusted, Seymon kicks Kirill several times in the stomach. For a gay viewer looking for clues as to who the rumored gay character might be, this is not the most promising introduction.