Exploring the Controversial Series 'Plevako': A Critical Review
The TV Series "Plevako": A Modern Deconstruction of Classics or a Cargo Cult Without Boundaries?
The series "Plevako", which made its debut in 2024 under the direction of Anna Matison, has emerged as one of the most talked-about projects of the year. Featuring prominent actors such as Sergey Bezrukov, Nikolai Shraiber, Olga Lernan, and Maria Smolnikova, the show dazzles with star power and aesthetic appeal. However, beneath this glitzy surface lies a complex creation that has sparked a torrent of criticism while simultaneously igniting viewer curiosity. Let’s delve into what this project truly entails.
The Plot: A Picture Book Instead of a Historical Drama
The series claims to be based on real historical events, yet from the opening scenes, it becomes abundantly clear that historical accuracy is far from the authors' main concern. The narrative of the eminent lawyer Fyodor Nikiforovich Plevako is transformed into a cinematic comic with elements of action, mysticism, and absurd romance. The protagonist, renamed Nikolai Fyodorovich (likely to cater to an audience that struggles to pronounce the original name), emerges as a modern superhero, equipped with parkour skills, kung-fu expertise, super sight, and other equally astonishing abilities.
The storyline begins with an absurd scene where Plevako, after conducting pagan funeral rites for his mother, showcases his prowess in underground no-holds-barred fighting. Subsequently, he returns to Moscow to tackle a high-profile murder case involving an aristocrat. Each episode unfolds another courtroom drama, showcasing the lead's deductive reasoning, encyclopedic knowledge, and uncanny ability to recreate 3D projections of the past. Interspersed within are acrobatic feats and flashbacks that immerse the audience in a ludicrous blend of historical farce and flavors reminiscent of "The Matrix."
Historical Authenticity: A Casualty of Postmodernism
One of the primary sources of critique aimed at this series is its openly liberal handling of historical facts. For instance, the antagonist is the Ober-Procurator of the Holy Synod, Konstantin Petrovich Pobedonostsev, who absurdly meddles in a mundane criminal case. This narrative twist feels ludicrous, considering that the Holy Synod focused solely on spiritual matters and censorship. Additionally, the frequent interactions among characters in Moscow raise eyebrows since Pobedonostsev's duties were based in St. Petersburg. It appears that the creators didn’t trouble themselves with historical accuracy; perhaps in their view, 19th-century Russia had some kind of precursor to the "Sapsan" traveling between the two capitals.
The industrialist Demidov is depicted as a caricature of a retrograde villain, engaging in petty domestic violence and bizarre antics like throwing dishes. This portrayal lacks any depth, reducing him to a clichéd "bad guy," which serves merely to highlight the protagonist's virtues.
Adaptation Challenges: Western Tropes on Russian Soil
Inevitably, comparisons with Western cinema arise. Unlike successful adaptations such as "Lincoln" or "Gangs of New York," which treat historical narratives with care, "Plevako" resembles a poorly translated comic book. The attempt to mimic contemporary trends results in absurd details—Plevako’s assistant often injects English phrases into conversations, while the protagonist obnoxiously emphasizes his Kalmyk identity, giving off an air more befitting a Marvel superhero.
The influence of feminism and cultural Marxism is particularly pronounced, manifesting in the portrayals of strong, independent female characters. Their dialogues can feel like slogans lifted straight from Twitter, diverging from meaningful character development as the creators lean on convenient clichés to appeal to modern audiences.
Casting and Performance
Amidst a lackluster script, the cast manages to deliver commendable performances. Sergey Bezrukov seamlessly embodies the role of the charismatic lawyer, although he sometimes overacts in scenes of "spiritual revelations." Olga Lernan adds essential drama as Maria Demidova, yet she appears to lack the charisma required to make her character memorable. In stark contrast, Nikolai Shraiber compensates for his partner’s shortcomings, bringing to life the image of a mad husband brimming with vibrant expression.
Igor Gordine, portraying Pobedonostsev, harnesses his theatrical background to lend depth to the character. Nevertheless, his role suffers from the overarching absurdities found within the script. On the whole, the casting is consistent with the general quality of the show: solid but lacking refinement.
Visual Appeal and Technical Execution
Despite narrative shortcomings, the visual aesthetics of the series deserve recognition. The costumes, set designs, and cinematography create an atmosphere that, while not truly reflective of 19th-century reality, still captures a degree of visual elegance. The flashbacks, plentiful throughout the series, are stylishly shot, although they occasionally veer into the territory of being overly dramatic. The main drawback lies in the sluggish pacing of scenes, which sometimes feel akin to theatrical productions devoid of cinematic dynamism.
Culminations and Final Thoughts
"Plevako" stands as a quintessential product of modern Russian television, teetering on the edge of parody while striving to create something monumental. The creators attempt to cater to everyone: fans of historical dramas, action enthusiasts, and those who appreciate light absurdism. The resulting concoction is an eclectic project that inspires concurrent reactions of laughter, irritation, and curiosity.
Is it worth watching this series? If you can overlook the script’s inconsistencies and historical inaccuracies, "Plevako" could serve as an entertaining diversion. However, one should not expect depth or historical fidelity; rather, it functions more as an amusement park ride than a serious work of art, and perhaps therein lies its primary charm.