Superpower

Penn and Kaufman’s film about him is sprawling and uneven but also heartfelt and inspiring. It’s informative but has an immediacy which you rarely find in conventional news reports. The documentary leaves you with admiration not only for its subject, the comedian turned wartime leader, but for the doughty Hollywood star who put himself in the eye of the storm too.

Penn scores a coup by getting an on-camera interview with Zelensky on the first day of Russia’s invasion, and he films him on two additional occasions, in a video interview and in person on a later visit.

If Penn’s point in visiting Ukraine, meeting Zelensky and co-directing Superpower was to make himself heard, then it’s mission accomplished.

The shocking images of Superpower can move us, but the movie ends up being nothing more than a piece of propaganda. Even worse, the documentary is a wasted opportunity to give a proper voice to the people who still live and fight in Ukraine. Instead, Superpower seems more concerned about contributing to the mystification of Zelensky and the image of Penn as a lonesome and brave hero.

Too often, the film’s well-meaning reportage is muddled with needless vanity sequences of the actor-director as an on-the-ground trailblazer, as the film fashions the impression that Penn himself — as much as any news agency — is a vital courier of the horrific events around him to Western audiences.

When [Penn] steps aside, or simply lets Zelensky talk, the film hits home as a crudely earnest plea for more principled military aid, and you can’t really fault its message. The delivery, though, leaves a lot to be desired.

Penn’s admiration for Zelensky, the people of Ukraine, and their unified commitment to democracy is sincere, but Superpower is so stupid a film it’s galling to watch.

Propaganda.