Exploring the Cultural Impact of the 'Plevako' Series
The series "Plevako", directed by Anna Matisson and released in 2024, has rapidly solidified its position as one of the most discussed projects of the year. With prominent performances by Sergey Bezrukov, Nikolai Shraiber, Olga Lerman, and Maria Smolnikova, it dazzles the eye. Yet, beyond the spectacle and star-studded cast lies a piece of work that has drawn considerable critique while simultaneously piquing viewers' interest. Let's delve into what this project really entails.
Plot: A Kitsch Rendition Instead of Historical Drama
Marketed as a narrative based on true events, from the onset, it is crystal clear that historical accuracy is far from the authors' primary concern. The tale of the eminent lawyer Fyodor Nikiforovich Plevako transforms into a cinematic comic book, incorporating an eclectic mix of action, mysticism, and absurd romance. The protagonist, renamed Nikolai Fyodorovich (clearly, to cater to an audience that might struggle with the original name), emerges as a contemporary superhero, mastering parkour, kung fu, super-sight, and a myriad of equally astounding abilities.
The narrative kicks off with a ludicrous scene where Plevako, following a pagan ritual for his mother's funeral, showcases his skills in underground no-holds-barred fights. He then returns to Moscow to take on a sensational murder case involving an aristocrat. Each episode focuses on a different courtroom battle, wherein our hero employs deduction, encyclopedic knowledge, and the uncanny ability to recreate 3D projections of the past. This is interspersed with acrobatic stunts and flashbacks, enveloping the viewer in a nonsensical blend of historical farce and elements reminiscent of "The Matrix."
Historical Authenticity: A Victim of Postmodernism
One of the primary sources of critique stems from the show’s unabashedly loose interpretation of historical fact. For instance, the antagonist emerges in the form of the Chief Prosecutor of the Holy Synod, Konstantin Petrovich Pobedonostsev, who unexpectedly meddles in a petty criminal case. This plot twist feels utterly absurd, especially when considering that the Holy Synod was solely focused on spiritual matters and censorship. Furthermore, the frequent intersections of characters in Moscow raise eyebrows, given that Pobedonostsev's role was centered in St. Petersburg. Clearly, the creators didn’t bother to grasp the historical realities — presumably in their imagination, some prototype of a high-speed train zipped back and forth between the two capitals in the 19th century.
Moreover, the industrialist Demidov is portrayed as a caricatured retrograde villain who indulges in domestic violence and dishes out psychological torment upon his wife. Such a depiction lacks depth, reducing the character to a cliché villain meant solely to accentuate the goodness of our hero.
Adaptation Challenges: Western Tropes on Russian Soil
Inevitably, comparisons with Western films and series arise. Unlike successful narratives, such as "Lincoln" or "Gangs of New York," which meticulously adapt historical tales, "Plevako" resembles a poorly translated comic book. The attempt to mirror contemporary trends gives rise to ridiculous details: Plevako’s assistant inexplicably peppers his speech with English phrases, while the protagonist flamboyantly emphasizes his Kalmyk identity, evoking envy among any Marvel superhero.
The influence of feminism and cultural Marxism is especially palpable, showcased through the portrayals of strong and independent heroines, whose dialogues occasionally echo social media slogans. Abandoning in-depth character development, the creators lean on clichés that please the modern audience.
Casting and Performance
Amidst the weak script, the actors rise to the occasion with commendable performances. Sergey Bezrukov seamlessly immerses into the role of the charismatic lawyer, though he sometimes overacts during moments of "spiritual enlightenment." Olga Lerman, as Maria Demidova, adds necessary drama, albeit lacking the charisma to make her character memorable. On the contrary, Nikolai Shraiber successfully compensates for his partner's shortcomings, crafting a vivid rendition of a mad husband with striking expression.
Igor Gordin, portraying Pobedonostsev, leverages his theatrical background to add depth to the character. Nonetheless, his persona suffers from the absurdities scripted. Overall, the casting aligns with the project’s overall caliber: solid but lacking in sophistication.
Visual Aesthetics and Technical Execution
Despite narrative pitfalls, the series deserves praise for its visual presentation. Costumes, sets, and cinematography conjure an atmosphere that, while failing to immerse viewers in the real 19th century, is nonetheless aesthetically appealing. The flashbacks, abundant throughout the series, are stylishly shot, though occasionally veering into the overly mannered territories. A significant flaw lies in the sluggish pace of scenes that at times resemble theatrical productions devoid of cinematic vigor.
Culminations and Takeaways
"Plevako" stands as a quintessential product of contemporary Russian television, teetering between parody and an earnest attempt at grandeur. The creators aim to please everyone: aficionados of historical dramas, action enthusiasts, and those who appreciate light absurdity. The result is an eclectic mishmash that elicits a blend of amusement, frustration, and curiosity.
Should you watch this series? If you are willing to overlook story inconsistencies and historical inaccuracy, "Plevako" can provide decent entertainment. However, expecting profound depth and fidelity to history would be a misstep. More an amusement ride than a serious work, its primary value might just lie in that very characteristic.