Explore the Layers of Plevakov: A Bold Historical Satire
The Series "Plevakov": A Contemporary Deconstruction of Classicism or Boundless Cargo Cult?
The highly anticipated series "Plevakov", directed by Anna Matisson and released in 2024, has emerged as one of the most talked-about projects of the year. Featuring a star-studded cast including Sergey Bezrukov, Nikolay Shraiber, Olga Lerman, and Maria Smolnikova, the show has caught the attention of both audiences and critics alike. Beneath its glittery surface, however, lies a work that has sparked fierce debates, ultimately challenging viewers to investigate what it truly represents.
Plot: A Woodcut Instead of a Historical Drama
Marketed as being based on real events, it becomes immediately apparent within the first few scenes that adhering strictly to historical accuracy is far from the primary objective of the creators. The narrative focuses on the outstanding lawyer Fyodor Nikiforovich Plevakov, whose story metamorphoses into a cinematic comic book, infused with elements of action, mysticism, and whimsical romance. The protagonist takes on the new name Nikolai Fyodorovich—presumably to make it easier for audiences to pronounce—presenting himself as a contemporary superhero endowed with extraordinary abilities such as parkour, kung fu, and even super vision.
The series kicks off with an absurd scene in which Plevakov, after conducting a pagan burial for his mother, showcases his skills in underground no-holds-barred fights. He soon returns to Moscow to tackle a sensational murder case involving an aristocrat. Each episode revolves around a new courtroom drama where the hero displays his deductive reasoning, extensive knowledge, and ability to reconstruct 3D projections of past events. These plot points are interwoven with acrobatic feats and flashbacks, ensnaring viewers in a ludicrous blend of historical farce and a narrative reminiscent of "The Matrix."
Historical Accuracy: A Casualty of Postmodernism
One of the leading sources of criticism against the series is its blatantly loose interpretation of historical facts. For instance, the antagonist features Konstantin Petrovich Pobedonostsev, the Chief Prosecutor of the Holy Synod, who unexpectedly meddles in a mundane criminal case. This plot twist appears nonsensical, particularly given that the Holy Synod was primarily concerned with spiritual matters and censorship. Additionally, regular interactions among characters across Moscow raise eyebrows, considering that Pobedonostsev's post was situated in Saint Petersburg. The creators seemingly neglected to delve into historical details—presumably thinking that some sort of prototype "Sapsan" (high-speed train) existed between the two cities in the 19th century.
Another antagonist, the industrial magnate Demidov, is portrayed as a caricature of a regressive villain, reduced to smashing dishes and mistreating his wife. This shallow depiction strips the character of depth, relegating him to the role of a typical "bad guy" merely designed to highlight the main character's virtue.
Adaptation Challenges: Western Tropes on Russian Soil
The inevitable comparisons to Western films and series raise questions about this series' execution. Unlike successful projects such as "Lincoln" or "Gangs of New York," known for their careful historical adaptation, "Plevakov" leans more toward the realm of a poorly translated comic book. The attempt to mirror modern trends introduces ludicrous elements: Plevakov's assistant constantly interjects English words into his dialogue while the lead hero pompously asserts his Kalmyk identity—an echo from the world of Marvel superheroes.
Particularly evident is the influence of feminism and cultural Marxism, reflected in the portrayals of strong and independent female characters whose lines often echo Twitter slogans. Instead of forming complex personalities, the creators resort to clichés that resonate with contemporary viewers.
Casting and Performance
In the shadow of a weak script, the acting performances stand out moderately well. Sergey Bezrukov seamlessly embodies the role of a charismatic lawyer, though there are moments where he tends to overact during "spiritual epiphanies." Olga Lerman, portraying Maria Demidova, injects necessary drama into her character but lacks the charisma to make her memorable. In contrast, Nikolay Shraiber successfully compensates for his partner's shortcomings, crafting the persona of a mad husband with vibrant expressiveness.
Igor Gordine, who plays Pobedonostsev, brings his theatrical experience to lend depth to the character. Yet, his portrayal suffers due to the absurdities present in the script. Overall, the casting aligns with the project’s general quality: competent but lacking in finesse.
Visuals and Technical Execution
Despite narrative shortcomings, the visual aspect of the series deserves commendation. Costumes, set designs, and cinematography build an atmosphere that, while not entirely reflective of the realities of the 19th century, possesses a certain aesthetic appeal. The numerous flashbacks are stylishly shot, even if they at times tip into the realm of excessive mannerism. The sole significant drawback lies in the slow pacing of scenes, which occasionally resemble stage plays devoid of the kinetic energy typical of cinema.
Epilogue and Takeaways
"Plevakov" serves as a quintessential product of contemporary Russian television, teetering on the boundary between parody and an earnest attempt to create something substantial. The creators strive to gratify a diverse audience—historical drama enthusiasts, action film aficionados, and those who appreciate light absurdity. The result is an eclectic project that elicits laughter, frustration, and curiosity simultaneously.
Is it worth watching this series? If you can overlook the narrative inconsistencies and historical inaccuracies, "Plevakov" might offer a moderately entertaining experience. But expecting depth and historical fidelity would be unwise. It stands more as an attraction than a serious work, and perhaps therein lies its principal value.