A Deep Dive into the 'Plevako' Series: Absurdity and Intrigue

The 2024 series "Plevako", directed by Anna Matisson, has emerged as one of the most talked-about projects of the year. Starring notable actors such as Sergey Bezrukov, Nikolai Shraiber, Olga Lerman, and Maria Smolnikova, this production dazzles with its star-studded cast. Yet, beneath the luminous surface lies a complex creation that has ignited waves of criticism while simultaneously piquing the curiosity of viewers. Join me as we delve into the essence of this intriguing project.

Plot: A Vignette Over Historical Drama

Promoted as based on actual events, the series quickly reveals that historical accuracy is not the primary focus of its creators. The tale of the illustrious lawyer Fedor Nikiforovich Plevako gets transformed into a cinematic comic strip interlaced with action, mysticism, and a hint of absurd romance. The titular character, renamed Nikolai Fyodorovich (presumably to cater to an audience that may struggle with the original name), emerges as a modern superhero capable of impressive feats—parkour, kung fu, super-vision, and other astonishing abilities.

The narrative kicks off with a preposterous scene wherein Plevako, having buried his mother through pagan rites, showcases his skills in underground no-holds-barred fights. Shortly after, he travels back to Moscow to tackle a sensational murder case involving an aristocrat. Each episode delves into another courtroom drama where the protagonist relies on deduction, encyclopedic knowledge, and an uncanny ability to recreate 3D projections of the past. These moments are interspersed with acrobatic stunts and flashbacks, immersing the audience in an absurd blend of historical farce and a narrative reminiscent of "The Matrix."

Historical Accuracy: A Casualty of Postmodernism

One of the dominant sources of critique aimed at the series is its blatant disregard for historical facts. For instance, the antagonist is portrayed as Constantin Petrovich Pobedonostsev, the Procurator of the Holy Synod, who inexplicably involves himself in a mundane criminal case. This plot point appears ridiculous, considering the Holy Synod's exclusive focus on spiritual matters and censorship. Moreover, the character's frequent encounters in Moscow when his actual post was in St. Petersburg raise eyebrows. It seems the creators didn't bother to examine historical realities; perhaps they envisioned a mythical version of a "Sapsan" train operating between the two capitals in the 19th century.

Another antagonist, the industrialist Demidov, is reduced to a caricature of an old-school villain, engaging in household violence and breaking dishes while exerting psychological control over his wife. This portrayal is shallow, rendering the character a one-dimensional "bad guy," solely created to underscore the protagonist's moral integrity.

Challenges of Adaptation: Western Clichés on Russian Soil

Inevitably, comparisons with Western films and series arise. Unlike successful endeavors like "Lincoln" or "Gangs of New York," which carefully adapt historical narratives, "Plevako" resembles a poorly translated comic book. Its creators’ ambition to imitate modern trends yields absurd details, such as Plevako's assistant constantly inserting English phrases into conversations, while the hero himself pompously flaunts his Kalmyk identity, a display that would make any Marvel superhero envious.

The influence of feminism and cultural Marxism is glaringly apparent, evident in the depictions of strong, independent female characters whose dialogues often echo Twitter hashtags. Rather than crafting complex personas, the creators resort to clichés that cater to a contemporary audience.

Casting and Performance

Amidst the subpar screenplay, the cast shines brightly. Sergey Bezrukov seamlessly embodies the charismatic lawyer, though at times he overacts during moments of "spiritual epiphany." Olga Lerman, portraying Maria Demidova, injects essential drama but evidently lacks the charisma to render her character memorable. Conversely, Nikolai Shraiber compensates for his partner's shortcomings by vividly portraying a deranged husband with vibrant expression.

Igor Gordine, playing Pobedonostsev, leverages his theatrical background to lend his character some depth. However, his portrayal is hamstrung by the script's absurdity. Overall, the casting aligns with the project's general standard: solid but lacking sophistication.

Visual Presentation and Technical Execution

Despite narrative shortcomings, the series' visual presentation merits praise. Costumes, set designs, and cinematography conjure an ambiance that, while not entirely transporting viewers to the authentic 19th century, remains aesthetically pleasing. The frequent flashbacks are stylishly shot, albeit occasionally veering into the realm of the overly mannered. The notable drawback lies in the sluggish pacing of scenes, which often resemble theatrical performances stripped of cinematic dynamism.

Ends and Takeaways

"Plevako" stands as a quintessential product of contemporary Russian television, teetering on the edge of parody while striving to create something significant. The creators aim to please multiple audiences—historical drama enthusiasts, action lovers, and fans of light absurdity. The outcome is an eclectic project that elicits laughter, annoyance, and intrigue simultaneously.

Should you invest your time in this series? If you can overlook the script's inconsistencies and historical blunders, "Plevako" might serve as enjoyable entertainment. However, expecting depth and historical precision would be a fool's errand. Rather, consider it an amusement park ride than a serious artistic work, and perhaps therein lies its true value.