Stream It Or Skip It: ‘Sputnik’ on Hulu, a Satisfyingly Gory Russian Creature Feature

Now on Hulu, Sputnik aims to scare/entertain us with squidgy, teethy things from outer space, but it may also test our tolerance for ’80s-inspired horror-sci-fi-thriller fodder. That’s definitely a trend these days, but heck, that’s light years better than horror-that-know-it’s-horror or shaky-cam found-footage dreck. Now let’s see if this Russian flick can put a fresh edge on an Alien-ish formula.

SPUTNIK: STREAM IT OR SKIP IT?

The Gist: SPACE: Lots of tiny dots in the black. From which of those dots do you think teethy things come? Probability says very very few in this space-time and place, but that’s in our reality. In movies, the odds are significantly greater, because without the teethy things, you just have astronauts pressing buttons and shit. Or in this case, cosmonauts — it’s 1983, the Cold War is in its deepest, freezingest phase and Red Dawn is coming soon to theaters nowhere near Russia. Two comrades in an orbiting capsule deploy a satellite and prepare for re-entry, click snap beep whoosh then bumpity-bumpity-bump, there’s some turbulence and something ain’t quite right. Are they nuts or did something move out there? Cut to the capsule parachuting back to terra firma with one dead cosmonaut and another not, and the survivor is quickly zoomed away.

Elsewhere. Tatyana Yuryevna Klimova (Oksana Akinshina) is a neurophysiologist whose methods tend to be unconventional, and so she ends up the subject of an inquisition conducted in a sparse room populated by a long table at which several very Russian sternfaces are seated. It matters not, because it’s essentially a job interview — Colonel Semiradov (Fyodor Bondarchuk) needs someone with her type of outside-the-boxnik thinking. See, he’s got this amnesiac cosmonaut who could use some TLC, Soviet-style. Her harsh-but-effective techniques will be PERFECT. She’ll suss out the spaceman’s indisposition for the glory of the motherland, and maybe to help the poor guy out, although the first thing is quite clearly more important.

So Tatyana gets in a truck that takes her past 178,000 indiscriminate gray hills, takes a left at the gulag and reaches a facility in which every available space is decked out in a lovely shade of Soviet gray-green and drenched in fluorescent light. Inside is the afflicted, Veshnyakov (Pyotr Fyodorov). He’s a little surly, has some psychological blank spots, can’t be hypnotized, but seems kind of OK maybe? Until Semiradov rustles Tatyana at about 2 a.m. and brings her to a secret room to watch Veshnyakov regurgitate a slime-ridden spindle-limmed cobra-headed shriekbeast that crabspidersnakes across the floor. It does this every night about this time, then folds itself up and crawls back inside his gullet without him even knowing. Diagnose THAT one, neurophysiologist lady.

What Movies Will It Remind You Of?: The Russian Clarice Starling, M.D. enters a facility full of intimidating men, shrugs off any predatory sexist overtures, becomes Ellen Ripley crossed with Amy Adams’ character in Arrival, faces off with xenomorph-meets-Venom, tries to survive the ordeal.

Performance Worth Watching: Akinshina shoulders the load here, and beneath the character’s nicely chilled SOVIET RUSSIA facade is a human being who cares about other human beings. It’s a very good nonverbal performance.

Memorable Dialogue: Asked how he’s feeling, Veshnyakov, unaware that a gross thing lives inside his trachea and stomach, says, “There’s a little tickle in my throat.”

Sex and Skin: None. They didn’t have sex in Soviet Russia.

Our Take: Parasite? No — symbiote! That’s Tatyana’s assessment, which spells trouble for all involved parties, especially the guy who ends up sharing brainpower with the space mantis from hell. Sputnik is mostly a mood piece, cloaked in dreary Soviet funereality, and spiked with some rock-solid creature design and nicely effective soupy blecch. To split some hairs here, I was interested in the film, impressed by its sparse visual design, sturdy direction and an especially morose (and trendy) ’80s-esque synth score, but I don’t know if I was ever fully engaged with its suppressed-but-simmering emotional content.

There’s maybe a little sexual tension between Tatyana and Veshnyakov, and some regular tension between her and the resident scientist, Rigel (Anton Vasiliev), who’s torn between his righteous ethics and the Colonel’s nefarious duty. Maybe we also feel some sympathy for Veshnyakov’s E.T.-Elliott mindmelt, which has us wondering what it might be like to be head-roommates with a slavering critter that has a thing for rippin’ heads off. That last part seems inevitable, and perhaps the point of the whole endeavor, but at least it’s satisfying.

Our Call: STREAM IT. Sputnik is a steadfast and dependably gory outing that puts just enough of a twist on familiar material to make it enjoyable.

John Serba is a freelance writer and film critic based in Grand Rapids, Michigan. Read more of his work at johnserbaatlarge.com or follow him on Twitter: @johnserba.

Stream Sputnik on Hulu