A Gentleman in Moscow

Fantastic. .... A consistently surprising and even restless bit of storytelling, its eight parts roll out along the corridors of the Metropol as an interconnected series of events, rather than a clumsy collection of episodes; the narrative is fairly seamless, yet startling in its twisting layout. It stars Ewan McGregor, never better, and a cast of charmers led by a revelatory Mary Elizabeth Winstead.

Heartbreaking, heartwarming, sometimes heart-stopping, and as much as anything the stage for a wonderful performance by its star, Ewan McGregor, it collects characters who are flush with emotion but — for reasons political, personal, cultural or as a matter of self-preservation — don’t demonstrate it openly. The production, too, maintains that tension between feeling and restraint, which ultimately intensifies the feeling.

McGregor offers a masterclass in acting; he is consistently charming, warm, and eye-catching at all times. Some might find McGregor’s Rostov to be too twee or his cheerfulness false, but his charisma and hopefulness read authentic, which even the harshest of cynics would be forced to admit. The often bleak energy of the show is buoyed by McGregor’s winsome and earnest nature.

McGregor delicately guides the Count through the country’s many political changes and the character’s own internal revolutions, from entitled dandy to devoted dad, and in the process conceives a fine Russian gentleman indeed—accent or not.

McGregor’s performance is key to the success of A Gentleman In Moscow, a series which has its dark moments, but is a whole lot more hopeful than it seems on the surface.

It is a fantastic dramatic playground that requires a big lead performance to sweep all the pieces together into a glittering whirl. Happily, McGregor’s Rostov is intoxicating when the character is winning and affecting when the actor allows the great sadness at the core of this benighted man to flash across his eyes.

By its end, A Gentleman in Moscow develops real emotional heft I had not expected. When the time finally came to check out of the Metropol, I was sorry to leave.

It sounds like heavy-going. But this eight-part series is just the opposite thanks to the buoyant brilliance of Ewan McGregor as a Russian Count stripped of his title and forced to live in a hotel attic while 30 years of tumultuous, totalitarian history pass outside.

Viewers willing to stick with the show's gentlemanly pace and occasionally mawkish sincerity will be rewarded with heart-warming, old-fashioned storytelling — anchored by Ewan McGregor's finest performance in years.

A Gentleman in Moscow lives up to the expectations set by Towles’ novel and delivers a sprawling historical epic contained within the walls of a single location.

Although this is another one of those limited series that might have been stronger condensed to six episodes instead of eight (hardly a first), the rewards of “A Gentleman in Moscow” more than justify the commitment.

Unlike some series, the extended length of this one benefits the decades-spanning story arc, with each episode cycling us through Russian history and showing how the changing political winds whisked away some in power leaving the powerless to find strength, love and greater meaning.

Because of that slight imbalance, and because the decades-spanning story doesn’t have quite enough incident to fill eight hours, A Gentleman in Moscow turns out to be a relative rarity: the prestige drama hangout show. It can be funny at times, deeply sad at others, and occasionally even surprising. Mostly, though, it works because the Count and the makeshift family he’s forced to create within the walls of the Metropol are so appealing.

Narrative momentum is a bit harder to come by, with the eight episodes requiring repetitive character loops and plot points. But once you accept that the series is largely about Rostov making sense of his restrictive circumstances, it isn’t hard to sit back and enjoy McGregor and Winstead and Sam Perry’s costumes and the general claustrophobic sumptuousness of it all.

It’s not solely an actor’s showcase, but its cast is nonetheless in perfect harmony with the show’s simple message. Sometimes, that’s all you need to hear.

A Gentleman in Moscow would have been strengthened by a leavening of seriousness, even if its refusal to wallow in despair is part of its not-inconsiderable appeal.

A Gentleman in Moscow is also beautifully filmed (like watching history unfold within a snowglobe). Though let down by a ponderous pace – it’s at least two episodes too long – if you can stick it out, it’s worth a look.

For many, the early pace will prove too sedate, but McGregor’s outstanding performance rewards those who stay the course.

As with so many modern prestige television ventures, the show distends itself so severely that it’s impossible not to think that it would have been better off as a two-hour feature film.

It’s a show that pads itself out rather than cultivating its ensemble or engaging with deeper, more substantive issues than Rostov’s personal plight. You won’t mind spending time with the Count, but he won’t follow you through the Metropol’s revolving door.