The narrative centers on Hank Rogers, a Japanese-Dutch businessman who runs Bullet-Proof Software. He discovers Tetris and instantly sees the potential to bring the game to a global audience.
The hurdle is clear: the game’s developer, Alexei Pajitnov, is based in the USSR, a closed market to many foreigners, and full copyrights for the game do not exist under the regime. Decisions must move up to the top echelons, involving Pajitnov himself, representatives of the KGB, and the state, which resists foreign influence. As Western entrepreneurs rush to stake their claims, time grows tight for Rogers. In a foreign land, he must negotiate a deal that could land him in trouble, and perhaps even prison, while the soundtrack’s missing piece is a missed opportunity that viewers might notice later.
Directed by John S. Baird, whose public profile includes a satirical drama about British policing and a penchant for stylish, modern thrillers, the film uses a dynamic rhythm and rich narration to explore the clash of two ideologies. The storytelling occasionally nudges the audience with humor, yet the subject matter becomes darker and more perilous as the plot advances, turning light moments into situations charged with consequences.
The film shifts its focus from the game’s creation to its global promotion. Rogers does not claim to invent anything new beyond a sharp sales strategy. He acts like a salesman who sees an opening and gathers the right people to capitalize on it, much like a modern magnate who scaled a small idea into a worldwide enterprise.
In contrast, Pajitnov is portrayed as a quiet, contemplative genius who fears the glitter of hype. A genuine computer thinker, he splits his time between the Academy of Sciences during the day and gaming endeavors at night, wary of commercial success and its pressures. The portrayal aligns Pajitnov with the archetype of a humble innovator who values the purity of his work over profit, even as he becomes involved in a project that promises its own fame.
Traditional Western stereotypes about the Soviet Union appear on screen, with the KGB and shadowy officials adding texture to the tension. Yet the approach is not merely about caricature; it invites a skeptical view of both sides, highlighting the blurred lines between heroism and opportunism. The visual language leans on audience recognition, but it also invites a more nuanced view of the people behind the headlines.
The setting of Moscow in the film is stark and fortress-like, with secret services operating in shadowy basements that echo a grand, fictional metropolis. Most Soviet characters who cross Hank’s path are framed with exaggerated glee and menace that signal their role in the drama. This visual shorthand helps the audience distinguish villain and ally quickly, even as the characters grow more complex as the movie unfolds.
Among the cast, one character stands out: KGB officer Valentin Trifonov, portrayed with memorable intensity by Igor Grabuzov. The performance dominates many scenes, supplying a compelling anchor to the escalating stakes and providing a human counterpoint to the larger-than-life figures around him.
What begins as a personal negotiation between Hank and Alexei evolves into a broader spectacle: a sequence that moves from tense exchanges to a public display on Red Square. The story traces rapid historical moments—from the fall of the Berlin Wall to a symbol of Soviet authority raised over the Kremlin—creating a collage of events that heightens the drama. The scale feels large, and some critics might feel the ambition stretches the runtime, leaving the central figure’s transformation underdeveloped despite the high energy of the surrounding events.
Ultimately, the film presents Tetris as a brisk and energetic narrative with a tense core. It paints a picture of two people from opposing worlds who share a longing for creative freedom beyond the reach of the state. In the end, the movie struggles to balance its ambitious crowd-pleaser energy with a tightly drawn character study. The result is a piece that feels like a snapshot of a pivotal moment in gaming history—a story that resembles Tetris itself: a game of fitting pieces together, imperfect but compelling in its persistence and potential for impact [Source: Production notes].