Salina Art Center

With the possible exception of F. Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald, the most famous married couple in the world of literary artists is Leo and Sofia Tolstoy, a more tempestuous and hot-blooded union than the celebrity couplings we see every day in the tabloids or on the internet.  Count Tolstoy, author of towering masterpieces of Russian Literature that included War and Peace and Anna Karenina, was a global icon in the late 19th/early 20th century.  He was almost literally worshipped by many, particularly members of a strange cult that took their beliefs from Tolstoy’s neo-Christian theories of asceticism and non-violence.  The pacifist movements led by Gandhi (and later Martin Luther King, Jr.) were inspired by Tolstoy’s life and philosophy.  But like many idols with feet of clay, Tolstoy the Legend was easier to love than Tolstoy the Husband.  Countess Sofia, however, could give as good as she got: a woman who was patient enough to transcribe her husband’s novels in longhand (several times) but wouldn’t suffer meekly in silence.  She certainly didn’t stand idly about as Leo espoused his views on vegetarianism, monastic living, extreme charity (i.e., giving away his entire fortune), and his own interpretation of Christ’s message; not without reminding him frequently about his drunken, womanizing past.  Having borne 13 of his children (and knowing of his affairs with other women), Sofia was especially annoyed by her husband’s newfound interest in celibacy.  Not that Tolstoy was a blind hypocrite; his late-in-life religious awakening was zealous yet sincere, and his vocal support of pacifism was laudable.  Even in his 80’s, Tolstoy was a robust, domineering figure who intimidated many—it took a bold, iron-willed woman to stand up to him.  Their marriage was rocky but never dull.  It was a passionate relationship: sometimes the passion was sexual, sometimes romantic, sometimes hostile.  As Count Tolstoy and Countess Sofia, Christopher Plummer and Helen Mirren bring some volcanic energy of their own.  Both Oscar nominated, they make a dynamic, sharp-tongued, and sexy couple.  Director Michael Hoffman’s The Last Station is not only lively drama and piercing character study, it’s an opportunity to see two acting powerhouses duke it out: Plummer is insightful, self-aware, not quite as in love with himself as he first seems; Mirren is seductive, witty, and without sympathy for fools or flatterers.  Together, they make one of the most charismatic couples in contemporary film.  The fact that they are supported by Paul Giamatti and James McAvoy—actors with the talent to command leading roles of their own—is just icing on the cake.  McAvoy is a Tolstoy disciple who comes to work for the Great Man as his new secretary—and reluctant spy for Giamatti, who’s worried that the dying Tolstoy will leave his vast fortune to Sofia rather than the “people.”  Sofia is concerned about just the opposite, but she’s not a gold digger.  She fears that her husband is becoming a cult figure being consumed by his own worshippers: everyone wants a piece of Tolstoy, and he may not be strong enough to withstand the pressures.  The story is obviously very contemporary when we consider modern cases where celebrities drowned in their own fame.  Hoffman’s sumptuously detailed period piece expertly transports us to a specific time and place, but the story is universal without relying on anachronistic dialogue or references.  Interestingly, Jay Parisi, author of the novel upon which Hoffman based his screenplay, was inspired after reading several journals kept by people surrounding Tolstoy—Parisi was struck by how different and self-serving the various perceptions of the same events were, and he created a kaleidoscopic portrait of the elderly Tolstoy to reflect those interpretations.  Christopher Plummer, who has illuminated both stage and screen with his aristocratic good looks, intelligence, and aura of unswerving integrity, is fantastic as Count Tolstoy; and Mirren matches him with her own sly humor and intensity.  The Last Station might have been based on the work of another Russian artists—the playwright Chekov—with its family dynamics, intrigues, secret wounds, and small epiphanies.  It’s a great film, made even more memorable by two incomparable lead performances.