Telling the story of one of modern literature’s true towering figures, Leo Tolstoy, in the final year of his life and turbulent marriage, it’s only fitting that writer/director Michael Hoffman’s “The Last Station” succeeds almost entirely on the strength of grandly outsized lead performances from leads Christopher Plummer, as Tolstoy, and Helen Mirren, as wife Sofya. This isn’t to say that the rest of the cast are phoning it in by any means – James MacAvoy and Paul Giamatti are clearly having a ball in fine, fun turns as Tolstoy’s naïve young secretary and loyal, overzealous follower, respectively – but there’s no mistaking whose show it is whenever the two stars are on camera.
With its somewhat single-minded study of love and passion, both in and out of harmony, the Tolstoy’s rollercoaster marriage in all its gorgeous late-Autumn warmth and bitter Winter chill gives the film a steady narrative pulse even without the assistance of the grand backstory. But while dramatic fireworks are always fun to watch with talent like this onscreen, here they run the risk of swallowing up Tolstoy, the iconic literary figure and political thinker, and reducing his final days to an entertaining case for octogenarian divorce. In the end though, Hoffman may have done just enough to satisfy the expectations of both scholars and film buffs. Tolstoy’s literary achievements receive lip service for the most part, but his political activism lies at the heart of the story, driving a wedge further and further into his marriage.
While there are no doubt more than a few learned folks out there who might disagree, there is an argument being made in “The Last Station” that the greatest achievement of the immortal Leo Tolstoy’s life was his commitment to love, and his having remained human and gleefully imperfect in spite of all the adulation bestowed upon him by throngs of devoted followers. As Mirren’s Sofya puts it, “You are the work of my life… I am the work of yours.” For her, and possibly even for the great man himself, a life dedicated to wholehearted, unconditional love is a more significant project than laying the foundation for revolution.
When “The Last Station” reaches its inevitable conclusion at a small countryside train station and the larger world has finally forced its way into the frame, it’s still the small, intimate moments – a tender reunion and a quiet, respectful farewell – that rise above the swarming masses and punctuate this warm ode to love in all its forms.
3.5 stars out of 5
