When we first meet Viacheslav Fetisov in the opening scene of "Red Army", he rather surprisingly gives his interviewer the middle finger. He's not going to be hurried - he's already seen everything; been everywhere and done it all to be rushed by some kid from California (or was it Chicago?) making a documentary about ice hockey. If he has to sort out some personal business by way of a phone call before he gets into the nitty-gritty of his life story, then he will.
This is all before he has even uttered a word of genuine substance. By the time he has stopped speaking, and the film has ended with his life as it was in aftermath of the 2014 Winter Olympics, we have surely been moved by a quite stupendous narrative depicting one man's journey through the very heart of the Russian ice hockey system at a time when it was looked upon by the Communist ideologues in the 1970's and 80's as a bulwark for internationalist reputation.
There is not, of course, any correlation between sporting success and kind; prosperous societies which are worth living in, but it is, as George Orwell once attempted to convey in a work which unfolded in a mock-USSR setting, the case that something certainly becomes true when enough people believe it - irrespective of whether that thing is true in reality.
Despite their terrifying nature, societies (and films about these societies) along the lines of the Soviet Union are, for whatever reason, often morbidly fascinating - more so once we know they have disbanded and can gawp on in awe at what life was like within them: don't tell me you've never found a documentary about Nazi Germany absorbing, or even more recently a programme about a television crew who were escorted around North Korea by government supervisors. "Red Army" is, in one sense, a piece along these lines, but it is predominantly more interested in the historical story of the development of Russian ice hockey to such an extent it became all but invincible, and the aftershock of the programme which it had on other ice hockey playing nations.
Going on what I read from those who lived there, the Soviet Union was not a good place to be: people were poor, but power brought you the privilege of a nice apartment and good healthcare; government officials were corrupt and could be bribed quite easily. The skylines were desolate and grey, scarred by buildings beyond repair. It was a society of lies and corruption, not one of peace; love; progress and equality. Its saddest story is the tale of young Pavlik Morozov, who grassed to the Stalinist authorities the fact his parents were hoarding grain. His parents were killed, and a statue went up in a town square of the boy who was seen as an example to all. The odd nature of the country and how its rulers secretly knew it was a bad place to be is nicely captured via a short story therein the documentary, which recalls how KGB agents would confiscate the passports of hockey players in order to prevent defections once they had arrived at their foreign destination. Why would anyone want to defect from the Soviet paradise?
The country's ice hockey, however, eventually became second to none and "Red Army" is the retrospective documentation of the process which had this come to be; a quite brilliant voyage through the Soviet system told from the perspective of many of the players involved in the team in conjunction with one or two supporting acts who played witness to the whole thing. Agonisingly, we are robbed of input from Viktor Tikhonov, the coach of the Soviet team whose team waltzed to so many gold medals and whose nerves must have been shredded every match as the weight of both his nation's ideology and standing bear down on him. Agonisingly, he died shortly after the release of the documentary anyway.
The documentary is expertly put together by, of all people, an American by the name of Gabe Polsky, who depicts how no one had played ice hockey before what the USSR brought to the game in the 1970's. It depicts them using the somewhat obscure combination of the rhythm of ballet and the tactical nous of chess to create a team which blasts their way into greatness, winning the vast majority of their finals and seemingly spoiling the lofty opinions certain western powerhouses had of themselves in the process. Do not let the tough nature of the sale put you off - this combination of the Soviet Union and ice hockey wrapped up into a documentary package works really well.
