There’s a scene in the end of the original Blade film in which our sword-swirling protagonist unexpectedly appears in The Mother Land, there’s snow on the floor, he’s wearing a long, black coat; he mutters something menacing in Russian, and whips of hot breath curl from his lips. It is bar far the most incredible moment in the history of cinema. I embellish, of course, but there’s definitely something about Russia that exudes a granular, raspy and incontestably cool connotation. [...]