Between 1978 and 1990, Andrei Romanovich Chikatilo murdered at least fifty-two women and children in Russia, Ukraine and Uzbek. He eluded police for over a decade, even though he landed in prison for three months for theft. His Wikipedia page is long and exhaustive and explores how elusive he was and how ineffective the police investigations were. His crimes served the basis for a number of non-Russian adaptations, including 2015’s Child 44, starring Tom Hardy. The Execution, then, is intriguing because it is an actual Russian film about this Russian killer...but like the other adaptations, it takes staunch liberties to turn the story into an entertaining (?) and epic decade-spanning criminal pursuit. As it gets further away from the true story, it starts to lose its grasp of the narrative.

It begins in 1988, with a man carrying a woman’s unconscious body into the woods. He digs up dirt, stuffs it in her mouth and then stabs her in the back to watch her crawl. She manages to get to her feet, looks back at the man in terror and then runs. In a nice bit of editing flourish, the night sky quickly turns to daylight and the time switches to 1991 as another woman runs through the same woods. Fortunately for her, she manages to escape and flags down a vehicle as a shadowy figure watches from the forest. This grim opening sets the stage for the melodramatic morality play that follows, told through an ever-changing timeline across a decade and with interstitial chapters with names like “The Chief” and “Denial.”

At the heart of the story sits Issa Davydov (Niko Tavadze), who, in 1991, is about to celebrate his promotion to Lt Col when a phone call interrupts the festivities. In one room, his friends and family salute him with a toast, while in the kitchen, Issa throws a temper tantrum, destroying plates and glass. It turns out the woman is another victim of the serial killer nicknamed The Butcher...but she’s also the only one who’s gotten away. This is problematic because Issa has already arrested someone for the decade-spanning killing spree and that person is in prison. One of his cops asks the appropriate question: Did they put the wrong guy in jail?

Issa’s snide response? “We don’t put people in jail. The court does.”

Luckly, the survivor found herself at the killer’s cottage in the woods and she saw his face. So the police descend on the home, arrest him and begin their brutal interrogation. The Execution follows this interrogation in 1991, but also goes back in time to document the case up to the point, beginning in 1981, when Issa was assigned to come in and take over the floundering case. The narrative interweaves various points in the decade-long hunt with the interrogation in 1991 to tell a convoluted story that examines the killer and the cop through a trope-heavy lens.

Operating with a screenplay written by Olga Gorodetkaya and himself, director Lado Kvataniya charts an intriguing look at a very specific period in Russian history. From the beginning, it’s obvious Kvataniya and Gorodetkaya had very specific reference points. The cinematography and dour subject matter feels like a clone of the serial killer movies David Fincher would explore. Meanwhile, the twisty Korean thrillers, particularly Bong Joon Ho’s Memories of a Murder are also smorgasborded throughout. Unfortunately, for those looking for a Zodiac-level examination of a prolific serial killer, The Execution will not satisfy. Sure, names are interspersed, like Issa, the detective, and Vera, one of the victims. But the script is not interested in exploring the real world and instead creates a narrative about revenge that, as it reaches the midpoint of the 130 minute film, becomes more and more overwrought.

It doesn’t help that, aside from Zodiac and Memories of a Murder, The Execution also borrows liberally from a host of detective and serial killer stories throughout the last thirty or more years. In one of the narrative asides, The Execution introduces another killer that Issa brought to justice before this particular case. A close-up on his scarred hand triggers a flashback in which Issa smashed a vial of acid on the killer’s face, maiming him and scarring Issa. During the investigation to find The Butcher, Issa visits the disfigured man in jail to Hannibal Lecter him into the plot. You can almost hear the “quid pro quo” as the drooling man takes him up on the offer and briefly (yet creepily) inserts himself into the interrogation. In a story that feels grounded and down to earth, this sort of fantastical element pulled me out of the mystery. Meanwhile, set in a decade where Russia denied it even had a serial killer, the film also borrows from Fincher’s Mindhunter as it also explores the idea of profiling in its infancy.

During the second act, the narrative feels like it’s spinning its wheels as it lays out various characters and their stories. This is Issa’s story, first and foremost, but the surrounding characters add some dimension to the narrative, even if they feel ancillary to the plot at times. In particular, Issa’s partner Ivan (Evgeniy Tkachuk) provides somewhat of a foil to Issa, who becomes more and more deadset in ending the investigation than in actually solving it. The two’s idealism/cynicism provides most of the dramatic conflict throughout, with brutal interrogations and poor policework contrasting their characters. Every detective/serial killer trope you can probably think of is explored at least somewhat in the script. But then in the last 20-30 minutes, The Execution throws everything we’ve seen into a new stark relief that is this close to being fantastic. A particular reveal had me smiling and intrigued, but then the convoluted story spent another ten or fifteen minutes to catch the audience up on its importance and how it unspooled. Here, the script is not as smart as it thinks it is.

The most developed aspect of The Execution is how it attempts to show the ingrained toxic masculinity of this era by contrasting sex, violence and masculinity in both the killer and the detective. Given the subgenre’s storied history, it shouldn’t be a surprise to say that Detective Issa isn’t a good person. At one point, he assaults his wife and attempts to force himself on her out of his own idea of repressed sex and masculinity. But then he turns around and has an affair with a woman he promises the world to. Cinematographer Denis Firstov shoots a fascinating montage of Issa and his mistress Vera (Yulia Snigir) with an interrogation, cutting back and forth between sex, domination, submission and violence that informs both the narrative and Issa’s character. This idea of masculinity and femininity is constantly contrasted, with the killer’s history being one of humiliation for being more feminine-looking and Issa’s drunken displays of masculine power fantasties.

It’s just that, as the twists start to come in hot and heavy, the narrative becomes more writerly, less grounded in reality and more far-fetched. It’s gorgeously shot and staged and Kvataniya has a good visual eye. The script just falls into the first film trap of idolizing cultural icons and classic genre texts without adding enough of its own spin to the text. Thrilling in spots, and languidly sedentary in others, The Execution doesn’t bring a whole lot new to the storied subgenre and, at times, feels more impressed with its own narrative trickeries than anything else.