Exploring the Broadcast of 'Plevako': A Mixed Reception
The television series "Plevako", directed by Anna Matison and released in 2024, has quickly become one of the year's most talked-about projects. It features a star-studded cast headlined by Sergey Bezrukov, Nikolai Shraiber, Olga Lerman, and Maria Smolnikova. However, beneath the weighty names and glamorous exterior lies a controversial piece that has sparked fierce criticism while simultaneously igniting viewer interest. Let's dive into what this project truly represents.
Plot: A Glossy Illustration Rather Than a Historical Drama
Marketed as based on real events, from the very first minute, it's clear that historical accuracy is far from the primary aim of the creators. The story of the legendary lawyer Fyodor Nikiforovich Plevako morphs into a cinematic comic steeped in action, mysticism, and absurd romance. The protagonist, renamed Nikolai Fyodorovich (presumably to accommodate audiences struggling with the original name), emerges as a modern superhero equipped with parkour, kung-fu, super vision, and other equally astonishing skills.
The narrative kicks off with an absurd scene where Plevako, after burying his mother in a pagan ceremony, showcases his talents in underground no-holds-barred fights. He subsequently makes his grand return to Moscow to take on a high-profile murder trial involving an aristocrat. Each episode delves into yet another courtroom drama, showcasing our hero's deductive prowess, encyclopedic knowledge, and the uncanny ability to reconstruct 3D projections of the past. This is interspersed with acrobatic stunts and flashbacks that pull the viewer into a ludicrous hybrid of historical farce and "The Matrix."
Historical Accuracy: A Sacrifice at the Altar of Postmodernism
One of the main sources of critique for the series lies in its overtly liberal handling of historical facts. For instance, the antagonist is none other than Konstantin Petrovich Pobedonoscev, the Chief Prosecutor of the Holy Synod, who inexplicably begins meddling in a mundane criminal case. This plot twist feels farcical, especially considering that the Holy Synod was predominantly involved in spiritual matters and censorship. Question marks also arise regarding the frequent interactions among characters in Moscow, given that Pobedonoscev was based in Saint Petersburg. Evidently, the creators did not trouble themselves with researching historical realities—they must conceive of 19th-century Russia as having a prototype for the high-speed train "Sapsan" ferrying characters between the two capitals.
A businessman named Demidov portrays another adversary, presented as a caricatured villain indulging in dish-breaking and psychological abuse of his wife. This character lacks depth, relegating him to the role of the clichéd "bad guy" merely meant to highlight the protagonist's virtue.
Adaptation Challenges: Western Tropes on Russian Soil
Inevitably, comparisons with Western films and series arise. Unlike successful projects such as "Lincoln" or "Gangs of New York," which meticulously adapt historical narratives, "Plevako" resembles a poorly translated comic book. The attempt to mimic contemporary trends results in some ludicrous details, such as Plevako's assistant constantly peppering English words into conversations while the hero pompously emphasizes his Kalmyk identity—an exuberance any Marvel superhero would envy.
The influence of feminism and cultural Marxism is particularly apparent, manifesting through strong and independent female characters whose dialogues sometimes sound like slogans lifted straight from Twitter. Rather than crafting deeply developed personas, the creators rely on clichés catering to the modern audience.
Casting and Performances
Amid a lackluster screenplay, the cast manages to hold their own. Sergey Bezrukov naturally embodies the charismatic lawyer, though he occasionally overacts during moments of "spiritual insight." Olga Lerman's portrayal of Maria Demidova adds essential drama, yet she lacks the charisma to make her character truly memorable. Conversely, Nikolai Shraiber compensates for his partner's shortcomings, creating a vivid portrayal of a mad husband full of expressive flair.
Igor Gordin, taking on the role of Pobedonoscev, taps into his theatrical experience to lend depth to the character. Nevertheless, his representation suffers from the absurdities woven into the script. Overall, the casting aligns with the project's overall quality: competent yet unspectacular.
Visuals and Technical Execution
Notwithstanding the narrative pitfalls, the series excels visually. Costumes, sets, and cinematography foster an atmosphere that, while not quite transporting viewers to the 19th century, remains stunningly aesthetic. The flashbacks, abundant throughout the series, are stylishly executed, albeit sometimes veering into overly pretentious territory. A notable shortcoming, however, is the sluggish pacing of scenes, at times resembling theatrical performances stripped of cinematic energy.
The End and Final Thoughts
"Plevako" stands as a quintessential product of contemporary Russian television, teetering on the brink of parody while attempting to craft something grand. The creators seem eager to please everyone—fans of historical dramas, action enthusiasts, and those who savor light absurdity. The end result is a patchwork of a project that simultaneously elicits laughter, frustration, and curiosity.
Should you invest time in watching this series? If you can overlook the script's inconsistencies and historical inaccuracies, "Plevako" may provide an entertaining diversion. However, don’t expect any profound insights or historical fidelity. Think of it more as an amusement ride than a serious artistic endeavor; perhaps therein lies its greatest allure.