"Pretentious and meaningless" - that would be my two-word summary of this triumph of Russian Post-Modernism.
In more words: one hundred minutes of incoherent mono- and dialogues (at times, the actors repeat the same lines 3 or 4 times in a row), acting worth wooden marionettes, never-ending close-ups of famous paintings, shamefully clumsy or downright pointless allegories and a total absence of any plot line or script purpose except a tedious reiteration of the director's poorly hidden resentment for anything related to Soviet history.
It does achieve its 3 sole objectives though:
1) proving possible shooting a full movie in a single take;
2) proudly parading 2,000 extras in lavish period costumes;
3) showing off the best bits of the Hermitage's art collection.
Cleverly contrived to fool Western critics with Russian exoticism, it was released to a great acclaim - Rotten Tomatoes shows a staggering 88% approval rate. My guess is that the reviewers, half-expecting something really perversely artsy weird from a Russian director, must have fallen for the typical Post-Modern pretence at implying some far-fetched elitist message. Too ashamed that they didn't get it, they hasted to praise the flick and find sense in the nonsensical drivel that the actors spew, so that they, the critics, could come across progressive and elitist too.
Another factor that may also have played the role is the Americans' weakness for all things related to European royalty, which they invariably find quaint and endearing.
The film would be really best used as an MTV-style visual background for a pot-pourri of popular classical music. Having to watch it with the sound on would come in handy as a Guantanamo interrogation technique.
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