‘Red Penguins’: Skating on Thin, Life-Threatening Ice in Russia

‘Red Penguins’: Skating on Thin, Life-Threatening Ice in Russia

By Alex McPherson

Director Gabe Polsky’s new documentary, “Red Penguins,” is a memorable tale of cross-cultural friendship, misunderstanding, greed, betrayal, societal unrest, and good, old-fashioned hockey.

Soon after the fall of the Soviet Union, two owners of the Pittsburgh Penguins and an idiosyncratic marketing executive — Tom Ruta, Howard Baldwin, and Steven Warshaw, respectively — helped manage Russia’s national hockey team, which was fading into obscurity. Working with the general managers Valery Gushin and Victor Tikhonov, they attempted to revive the team and its brand — taking advantage of Russia’s new market and attempting to set an example for the rest of the world. 

In order to attract the attention of the Russian populace, free alcohol was provided (served by live bears at one point, resulting in a player losing half a finger), strippers were hired to perform on the ice rink, and everything was generally ratcheted up a notch, a true spectacle to behold.

Thanks to this approach, the team, eventually referred to as the Red Penguins, became internationally popular, even catching the eye of Michael Eisner, then-Chairman of the Walt Disney Company. Set against the backdrop of the 1993 Russian Constitutional Crisis, however, violent tensions ran high. Ego, greed, opportunism, and ignorance among all parties also infected this Russian-American partnership, but rendered it ripe for cinematic portrayal.

And good grief, what a wild ride it was, especially when told through Polsky’s lens. Less about hockey than about Post-Soviet Russia more broadly, “Red Penguins” works on multiple levels — as an emotional roller coaster swerving between hilarity and dead seriousness, as a Russian history lesson, and as a testament to the importance of effective intercultural communication.

Polsky takes a brisk, fast-paced approach to the material, finding a near-perfect balance between humor and horror. The story itself, told by the people, American and Russian alike, who lived it, is undeniably compelling, featuring several outlandish moments that I won’t dare spoil here. Even so, “Red Penguins” spends equally as much time providing context, describing a Post-Soviet Russia permeated with social unrest. With rising crime rates, economic struggles, and the ever-powerful influence of the mafia among authority figures, the atmosphere is tense. One montage, for example, juxtaposes the rambunctious fun of the hockey games with graphic footage of police clashes outdoors in the streets, to chilling effect.

Indeed, the film’s humorous, happy-go-lucky tone early on quickly gives way to dread about what’s to come later. Nationalism and pure, unadulterated foolishness rule the day, creating a nervous atmosphere throughout that pervades even the film’s most absurd moments. This feeling, in a sense, emulates how the initial mindsets of Warshaw and company were replaced with fear when they realized the situation they put themselves in. 

Case in point, Warshaw, the film’s most endearing presence, is a cocky individual willing to go to cartoonish lengths to ensure the team’s success — regardless of his personal safety or Russian cultural norms. This creates obvious problems down the road with the authority figures he claims to have befriended. 

The consequences are potentially life and death, and Polsky adds another fearful layer by showing the interviewee’s differing interpretations of the events at hand and letting them reveal their true selves to the camera. When Valery Gushin, also interviewed for the film, laughs heartily about “teaching [Warshaw] a lesson,” a chill ran down my spine.

By its conclusion, “Red Penguins,” is ultimately a sobering, disturbing story of societal change and dangerous misunderstandings. This film is, at its essence, an ode to understanding the Other, told via a stranger-than-fiction story that deserves to be known.

“Red Penguins,” a 2019 documentary written and directed by Gabe Polsky, is rated PG-13 for violence/bloody images, sexual material/nudity, some strong language and a drug reference/ Runtime is 80 minutes. The film was released Aug.4 in U.S. and available video on demand. Alex’s Grade: A.

‘Light Years’ Silly, Sentimental Romp on Drugs, Love and Friendship

‘Light Years’ Silly, Sentimental Romp on Drugs, Love and Friendship

By Alex McPherson
Colin Thompson’s coming-of-age tale, “Light Years,” is an enjoyable romp down memory lane that can’t quite reach the emotional heights it aspires to.

The film centers on Kevin (Thompson) a thirty-something man taking magic mushrooms and embarking on a vision quest to visit Briggs (Russell Posner), his deceased friend who’s based on someone Thompson knew in real life.

Kevin is transported back to a rambunctious night from his high school years — featuring an uncomfortable house party, family drama, and, you guessed it, a fair amount of ‘shrooms. In a psychedelic twist, Young Kevin (Christopher Gray) becomes Adult Kevin, and nearly everyone in his drug-induced flashback (with the exception of Briggs and Kevin’s sister, Em (Makenzie Leigh)) is played by Thompson himself. Whoa, dude, far out! 

While “Light Years” fumbles a balance between silliness and heartfelt sentimentality, the film satisfies as light entertainment. There’s definitely some fun to be had in watching these characters engage in juvenile shenanigans, especially when so many of them are played by the same actor.

Indeed, Thompson has ample opportunity to flex his acting chops as he embodies several different characters, most of whom have their own distinctive personality. Although the novelty eventually wears off, his efforts are commendable. This stylistic choice even holds metaphorical weight, with Briggs being one of the only characters not played by Thompson. 

Light Years also simulates the effects of ‘shrooms through several cinematic techniques, including eye-popping stop-motion animation and time manipulation. While I’ve never taken ‘shrooms, the film certainly succeeds in visualizing the zonked-out head spaces of the central characters.

The humor itself is hit or miss, however, and assumes that viewers find this sort of drug use humorous. Lacking nuance, it grows tiresome by the end of the film’s 81-minute runtime — too often reverting to immaturity over actual intelligence.

Luckily, Light Years has more on its mind than depicting characters out-of-their-mind. In the vein of films like Superbad and Booksmart, Thompson’s film ultimately revolves around Kevin and Briggs’ friendship, and the life lessons they learn from each other.

They depend on one another to stay afloat and maintain a positive outlook on life. At the time of the flashback, Kevin is having a quarter-life crisis, unsure of his future and reeling emotionally from his parents’ divorce. He finds solace in hanging out with friends — especially Briggs, whose spastic personality ensures there’s rarely a dull moment, particularly when under the influence. Thompson and Posner have great chemistry, and their back-and-forth dialogue at times reminds me of Steve Coogan and Rob Brydon in The Trip, as they indulge in over-the-top impressions and play off each other with chuckle-worthy results.

Unfortunately, Kevin and Briggs need more depth to add weight to the tragedy down the road. Thompson’s small-scale approach works to the story’s detriment as a result, spending too much time with side characters lacking development and oversimplifying potentially impactful subject matter in favor of providing comedy. Kevin’s arc would have benefited from expanding the timeline to show how the lessons learned in his vision quest impact his present-day life. Additionally, the film neglects to make a clear, meaningful statement on addiction and drug use, coming to ambiguous conclusions. Yes, a more dramatic approach would have mellowed the film’s laid back atmosphere, but as a memorial to a lost friend, it feels odd to omit these details in favor of accessible entertainment value. 

At the end of the day, Light Years is a watchable stoner comedy that features some clever cinematic tricks and an endearing central duo, but fails to truly stand out from the pack.

“Light Years” (2019), written and directed by Colin Thompson, is adventure with a TV-14 designation. It runs 1 hr. 21 minutes and is available video on demand on Nov. 17. Alex’s Grade: B-