CitizenX(1995) is the developing world's answer to Silence of the Lambs. Where `Silence' terrorized our peace of mind, `Citizen' exhausts and saddens us instead. This dramatization of the Chikatilo case translates rather well, thanks to a Westernized friendship between two Rostov cops who become equals.
CitizenX may also argue against(!) the death penalty far better than Kevin Spacey's The Life of David Gayle(2002).
Humans are Machiavellian mammals, under which lie limbic brains (lizard-logic). Why did two kids, who knew better, stone to death a toddler they kidnapped? Why do bloodthirsty women yell `li-lilililililii' at acts of OBSCENE terrorism? -My own term for this is `limbic domination', the lizard-logic urge to dominate an `enemy'. If you have the words `enemy'/`vengeance' in your vocabulary, you're easily capable of `limbic domination'.
In WWII-devastated 1980s Rostov (located at the mouth of the Don river near the Black Sea), nothing suppressed Andrei Chikatilo's urge for `limbic domination' from overpowering his layers of civilization. Chikatilo(Jeffrey DeMunn)'s easy victims were paupers, usually children, who rode the interurban train for fun, since they couldn't afford anything else.
CitizenX reminds us that the denials of a rampant Soviet bureaucracy cost the lives of 52 such `lambs'. Rostov's serial killer roamed free for almost 7 years AFTER the police arrested and let him go.
The politicization of crimefighting is harmful to police forces everywhere. Although policing routinely suffers from corruption all over the world, in the west, vote-grabbing by politicians can set up chronic inter-agency rivalries, stymieing a more coordinated response to crime. In the Soviet Union of CitizenX, however, Viktor Burakov(Stephen Rea)'s Killer Department was suffering from a repressive bureaucracy.
Geoffrey DeMunn plays the psychosexually inadequate Chikatilo with faultless but understated authority--to the point of complete obscurity. In real life, too, Chikatilo had a lifetime's experience blending in and evading capture.
His pursuer, on the other hand, sticks out as a strange bird, given to unheralded, naive outbursts. Perhaps by design, Stephen Rea gives a very strange performance as forensics chief Burakov. Rea's Russian accent is impenetrable; and his Burakov is humourless and sullen, at odds with everyone.
So it's Donald Sutherland who walks away with the picture. Sutherland's Col.Fetisov, Burakov's boss, and at first his only supporter, is an overly restrained, patient Militiaman whose dignified carriage bears testimony to decades of bureaucratic machinations. His reawakening as a logic-driven yet still passionate cop becomes the film's cornerstone idealism.
Joss Ackland does another turn as a vicious apparatchik, Secretary of Communist Ideology Bondarchuk, overseeing the investigation. Naturally, he quashed the arrest of the most likely suspect, a Communist, in 1984, a man carrying rope and a knife in his bag, supposedly going home: Andrei Chikatilo.
Soon, he replaced Burakov with another Moscow apparatchik, Detective Gorbunov(John Wood), insisting that the investigation now focus on `known homosexuals'. The funniest scene of this sad, sad film comes during Bondarchuk's & Gorbunov's institutionalized harassment: one stupid cop earnestly reports, `As I suspected, comrade, it's fornication. I've made some drawings'--cue howling laughter.
5yrs after the bodies began piling up, in 1987, the police finally tried soliciting criminal profiles. The only cooperating Soviet psychiatrist was Dr Aleksandr Bukhanovsky(Max Von Sydow), who termed the UNSUB `CitizenX'. He later also observed to Fetisov & Burakov that `...together you make a wonderful person'. We concur.
The drawn-out pace, spread over a decade, perfectly captures the institutional inertia of Glasnost--`openness'--that wasn't. The contrast with Perestroika--`restructuring'--couldn't've been greater for the case. Although Chikatilo was still prowling railway stations, police plans were about to bear fruit.
In 1990, Col.Fetisov was expeditiously promoted to General. His nemesis Bondarchuk disappeared off the scene, allowing the investigation to finally proceed without political interference. Staff, communications, publicity--suddenly all were available. In just one night of telephoning around, Fetisov got his depressed forensics chief access to the FBI's Serial Murder Task Force at Quantico, where, Fetisov discovered, staff are regularly rotated off serial murder cases to stave off just such psychological damage to investigators.
Fetisov advises his newly promoted forensics chief, now `Colonel' Burakov, of all these changes in an avalanche of confession that becomes the movie's powerhouse watershed scene. Fetisov's is the most tender apology I've ever seen on film: `Privately, I offer my deepest apologies to you and your wife. I hope that someday you can forgive me my ignorance', he almost whispers.
A HBO production, CitizenX is a film of the highest caliber. Not only do the exteriors look authentically bleak (shot exclusively in the most run-down parts of otherwise spectacular Budapest), but Randy Edelman's soaring soundtrack is entirely overwhelming--and frequently our only respite from the bleak brutality. Those who speak Hungarian will recognize the many Hungarian accents and credits.
Chikatilo's actual murders are depicted as bleak, aberrant behaviour born of character flaws and ignorance in an equally bleak world. This makes the murders seem not-entirely-out-of-place--but of course they were. As President Kennedy reminded us, `we all cherish the futures of our children'.
CitizenX communicates perfectly that killing is far more grisly and obscene than any vengeance fantasy might imply. Serial rapists rape to dominate; serial killers kill to dominate. So do some soldiers. Such `limbic dominators' make poor humans.
WARNING-SPOILER:----------------------------------------------- The real Andrei Chikatilo WAS the world's most prolific known serial killer. Convicted, he was executed in 1992 in the manner of all Soviet Union death sentences: one shot, in the back of the head. Foolishly, such methods destroy any possibility of studying a deviant brain after death.
Conclusion:------------------------------------------------------------ The best outcome is always the prevention of killings, not their prosecution. Executions merely guarantee society's failure to learn from the complex reality of victims' deaths when we dispatch even anecdotal evidence of HOW/WHY they died. Nor do killers learn regret if they're dead.
Vengeance doesn't unkill victims. Baying for the killer's blood constitutes nothing better than counter-domination--once it's too late.
Vengeance on behalf of the grieving isn't justice for the deceased--it's appeasement of the living.(10/10)

THE WATERDANCE (1991) The main character of The Waterdance, played by Eric Stoltz, finds himself in a rehab center with some others similarly injured. And there he must face an harsh new life, confined to a wheelchair. It's an interesting, and promising premise, but unfortunately, it fails to deploy. What ensues instead is largely Hollywood schmaltz, with some interesting moments. Certainly the cast (Eric Stoltz, William Forsythe, Wesley Snipes, et al) is brilliant, and perform well here as one would expect, but their talents are wasted. The characters are mainly stereotypes of one kind or another, and most of them are thoroughly unlikeable (the Snipes character being the exception). I suppose this is some kind of attempt to break through people's ideas about the handicapped being "crippled" or "weak", by depicting them, for the most part, as in-your-face pricks, but it makes for an entirely annoying experience. Admittedly it will show you something of what those with permanent disabilities go through, in a way that is not softened or romanticized, which is useful, and a good idea, but while the process being depicted can make one a difficult person to get along with, and that's worth dealing with, it is not part and parcel to that that these characters must be, to varying degrees, despicable. They wouldn't have to be Disneyfied, either; surely there's a middle ground somewhere. By the film's conclusion, the Eric Stoltz character has come to accept his status as a handicapped person, but since he is such a flaming narcissistic monster from the beginning of the film to the end, we couldn't care less.
In addition to its character problems, the film suffers from that weird syndrome that so many Hollywood movies suffer from; the syndrome doesn't really have an official name, but you might call it "Inexplicable Forgiveness Syndrome". It goes something like this: characters abuse the crap out of each other, and then without so much as an apology, all is forgiven (an especially obnoxious example of this is in the movie The Breakfast Club, in which one character spends most of the film verbally bullying everybody within earshot; as a resultthey love him. In one of the the latest examples, Spiderman 3, supervillain The Sandman lays waste to a chunk of Manhattan, then wails on Spiderman for what seems like about 15 monotonous minutes before being waved off with what amounts to "bye, now"). The most egregious example of IFS in The Waterdance is a sequence in which, after being called the n-word by William Forsythe's racist biker character and his friends in the previous scene, the Wesley Snipes character whoops it up with the same Forsythe character in the next scene, as if nothing had just happened just a short time hence. Again, without so much as an "Oh yeah, sorry about that business back there where I, you know, called you the n-word". It makes me wonder, do these people actually watch these movies before they release them, or do they just film them with their eyes closed, kind of slap them together in the editing room according to scene number, and call it a day's work?