There are few joys as pure as playing Tetris, which has single-handedly accounted for millions, if not billions, of hours of lost time. The game’s impossible-to-put-down nature is such that one apocryphal tale claims a Moscovian medical lab Except Licensing Agreements—but the film would rather lean into the long-winded, unsubtly jingoistic, boardroom spy flick.
Just as often as rich men are lying to each other behind closed doors, Tetris reorganizes itself into a character drama. An authentic biopic, this isn’t, but these scenes bring some humanity to the heightened historical retelling. Henk’s single-minded quest to acquire the game license has alienated his wife and daughter back home, a tension that reminds us of his personal stakes. And as Alexey secretly befriends Henk, the stony-faced Russian opens up his home and life to the gregarious American. Following Henk and Alexey after hours allows the movie to take a breath, and it’s easier to invest in Henk and Alexey’s friendship, mission, and future.
But Tetris, both game and movie, can’t sit still. It speeds through the more intimate moments so we can get back to editing licensing agreements while dodging KGB blackmail and wiretapping. Times when Alexey lets loose and shows off the quirky genius that birthed Tetris are undercut by reminders that he, like all Russians, lives in a constant state of fear. Just a knock at the door is a cause for alarm, especially when he’s got an American hanging out in his house. Such a repetitive thematic refrain infringes upon our time with the true heart of Tetris: its undersung creator and his marvelous creation.
Tetris’ inability to decide what it wants to be is its ultimate downfall, as it goes to over-the-top lengths to keep up the Cold War thriller antics. The film throws snarling, accented villains at a defiant American that keeps outfoxing them. Its eleventh-hour car chase would make for great parody if it weren’t so earnest. Instead of stylishly dramatizing the history of an important video game, Tetris is too attached to its 1980s Hollywood action-blockbuster aspirations.
Unfortunately, Tetris is going straight-to streaming, not to the big screens befitting its self-perception. Having to watch the movie from your couch also makes the choice between Tetris the movie and Tetris the game a lot easier. Once you boot it up (Nintendo Switch owners can play the original Game Boy version with an online subscription, by the way), you’ll see the game’s slogan: “From Russia With Fun!” The movie could have gone with its own take: “From America With Whiplash.”
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