The acclaimed Russian director’s previous two films, Leviathan and Loveless, had both won prizes at the Cannes before making their US premieres in Telluride, stoking Oscar buzz; he made the rounds in Hollywood, while presenting his stark, uncompromising visions of contemporary Russia.

The same has been true of Zvyagintsev’s latest lauded work, Minotaur, which, after earning raves at Cannes, storming Telluride, is entering the competitive American awards race.

But much is different this time. For the first time, Zvyagintsev made a movie outside of Russia, moving Minotaur’s production to Latvia to stand in for a brutally frank portrait of his homeland at the dawn of the Ukraine war.

There is some triumph in Zvyagintsev’s very presence here, his ability to carry on his streak of success without missing a beat, despite the obstacles. It’s also  testament to the strength of Minotaur, a culmination of the master’s career to date.

You can watch the trailer for the film above.

From the opening moments, we watch the powerful CEO Gleb (Dmitriy Mazurov) tracking the hidden smiles, the secret texts, the afternoon escapes that are consuming his wife Galina (Iris Lebedeva).

But Gleb is being pulled in other directions at the same time, under political pressure to help the mounting war effort. Colleagues are leaving his company, and his country. Zvyagintsev places the intimate domestic conflict against the bleak geopolitical backdrop, a hallmark of his filmmaking. Over a decade ago, he was called  “evil” and “beyond all limits” by Russian officials over the content of Leviathan.

Adding the Work Space

“Chabrol completely left out life in the office,” Zvyagintsev is pointing to the most obvious area where he makes his dramatic mark. “What was the relationship of the main character with his colleagues? What exactly is happening there? I needed to create it.”

The other alteration made to Chabrol is that, while Minotaur is mostly seen through the husband’s perspective, Zvyagintsev allows Galina to advocate for herself directly, to say her piece before everything unravels.  “I’m tired of being your shadow,” she says.

Galina’s Motivation to Cheat

“She is looking for love, sex, compassion, tenderness,” Zvyagintsev says. “I wanted to show Galina’s tragedy, what exactly was happening with her on the inside, what pushed her to cheat.”

For him, Minotaur is not overtly political, but rather the natural setting for his relationship to Chabrol’s story. He was inspired by Chabrol’s centerpiece, a wordless sequence that runs for more than 15 minutes and transforms the film in mood and narrative.

Zvyagintsev saw the audience “really reacting” to his take on the scene, and particularly his use of darkly subtle humor. “I didn’t really expect it — at that point, the American audience really started to laugh. Just because of the mise-en-scène. And then they laughed again!”

Minotaur’s incisive power — its brutal commentary on love and betrayal, loyalty and corruption — resonates on a universal level. It’s the global language through which Zvyagintsev has told his stories over his entire career. He may be in a new chapter, a shift represented by France’s impending decision.

A Russian Representing France at he scars?

Minotaur will be released in theaters on November 20.