Firebird review – Call Me by Your Name transposed to Soviet Russia

Though the tale of clandestine gay love is one as old as time, in terms of the moving image, Luca Guadagnino’s Call Me by Your Name tends to stand as the frequently touted benchmark. Such a comparison can often feel unfairly reductive, but in the case of Firebird, it’s mostly apt: this is effectively the structure of Call Me by Your Name transposed to Soviet Russia, down to the nitty-gritty of its narrative beats. It does boast some novel ideas and is generally elevated by the performances of its two leads, but this will mainly appeal, no doubt, to a less initiated audience.

Baby-faced twink protagonist Sergey (Tom Prior), who boasts glass-cutting cheekbones and abs that you could wash your laundry on, is in the final weeks of his gruelling basic training in the Soviet Red Army. A stand-out from the conscript crowd, he has been called up by the Comrade Major to continue his military career; but alas, talent or not talent, his heart is wooly, and he dreams of becoming an actor in Moscow.

Enter ace pilot Roman (Oleg Zagorodnii), Firebird’s Oliver, brimming with charismatic machismo. The two fall head over heels. Homosexuality, however, was banned in the Soviet Union, so their affair is sequestered to shadowy rendezvouses, a love oft threatened with disclosure. Their initial, fiery fling is brought to a premature end by one particularly close encounter, but like Brokeback Mountain’s Jack Twist and Ennis Del Mar, they just don’t know how to quit one another. Cue a decades-long romance that can only end, you’d imagine, in tragedy.

The debut narrative feature from director Peeter Rebane, a documentarian by prior trade, Firebird is mostly conventional fare: cinematographer Mait Mäekivi’s shot design is functional, the film’s palette consisting of frosty blues and arctic greys – befitting the Soviet setting, no doubt, but also a bit banal. Rebane does throw some welcome aesthetic curveballs: one scene, set at a Soviet opera, pops with colourful vibrancy, juxtaposing nicely against the adjacent sequences. That the film is performed by a mixed-nationality cast in English, though with passable Ruski accents, does hinder its immersive potential: one would have loved to have seen the same script performed by a native ensemble.

As it stands, Prior is the stand-out from the cast, boasting a great emotional range throughout. The film’s 107 minutes can chug at times, but his performance always compels. Though there are a few clangers scattered in the dialogue, the screenplay, a collaboration between Prior and Rebane, is quite good – though, as mentioned, its structure echoes Call Me by Your Name, or even James Ivory’s Maurice. Think of it like a shared chord progression, rather than a straight facsimile. There’s little of anything groundbreaking here, but it’s hardly a wasted watch.

Firebird was screened as part of the BFI Flare: London LGBTIQ+ Film Festival 2021. It is released in UK cinemas on 22 April 2022.