Examining the Plevako Series: History or Absurdity?
The Series "Plevako": A Contemporary Deconstruction of Classic or an Unfettered Cargo Cult?
The series "Plevako", directed by Anna Matison and released in 2024, has rapidly become one of the most talked-about projects of the year. Featuring prominent actors such as Sergey Bezrukov, Nikolai Shraiber, Olga LerMan, and Maria Smolnikova, the show dazzles with star power. Yet beneath the glitzy surface lies a complex creation that has sparked a torrent of critiques while also igniting viewer intrigue. In this piece, we endeavor to delve deep into what this show truly represents.
Plot: A Canvas Rather Than a Historical Drama
Though the series claims to be based on real events, it becomes apparent almost immediately that historical accuracy is not the primary aim of its creators. The narrative surrounding the esteemed lawyer Fyodor Nikiforovich Plevako is transformed into a cinematic comic book infused with elements of action, mysticism, and absurd romance. The protagonist, renamed Nikolai Fyodorovich—likely to cater to audiences struggling with the original name—takes the form of a contemporary superhero, showcasing parkour, kung fu, super-sight, and an array of other remarkable abilities.
The storytelling kicks off with a bizarre scene where Plevako, having buried his mother according to pagan rites, displays his skills in underground no-holds-barred fights. He later returns to Moscow with the aim of tackling a sensational case involving the murder of an aristocrat. Each episode follows the protagonist as he traverses various courtroom battles, employing deduction, encyclopedic knowledge, and the ability to recreate 3D projections of the past. This scenario is interspersed with acrobatics and flashbacks, immersing viewers in a ridiculous blend of historical farce and Matrix-esque themes.
Historical Accuracy: A Casualty of Postmodernism
One of the most significant sources of criticism leveled at the series is its blatant disregard for historical facts. Take, for instance, the character of Konstantin Petrovich Pobedonostsev, the Chief Prosecutor of the Holy Synod, who oddly begins to interfere in mundane criminal matters. This plot twist seems absurd, considering that the Holy Synod traditionally focused on spiritual affairs and censorship. Furthermore, the recurring meetings between characters in Moscow raises eyebrows since Pobedonostsev's jurisdiction originally lay in St. Petersburg. Clearly, the creators did not bother to explore historical realities—perhaps envisioning a precursor to the "Sapsan" train whizzing between the two capitals back in the 19th century.
Another antagonist, the industrialist Demidov, is depicted as a cartoonish, retrograde villain who engages in pottery smashing and psychological abuse of his wife. This simplistic portrayal deprives the character of depth, relegating him to the role of a mere foil for highlighting the protagonist's virtue.
Adaptation Challenges: Western Clichés on Russian Soil
Inevitably, comparisons to Western films and series come to the forefront. While successful productions like "Lincoln" or "Gangs of New York" meticulously adapt historical narratives, "Plevako" resembles a poorly translated comic book. The imitation of contemporary trends leads to the introduction of absurd elements—for instance, Plevako’s assistant frequently peppering his speech with English jargon, while the hero himself dramatically emphasizes his Kalmyk identity, worthy of any Marvel superhero’s elitism.
The influence of feminism and cultural Marxism is particularly palpable, as evidenced by the portrayal of strong, independent female characters whose lines sometimes echo slogans right out of Twitter feeds. Instead of creating multifaceted personalities, the writers lean on clichés that appease the modern viewer.
Casting and Acting
Amidst a lackluster script, the actors manage to shine. Sergey Bezrukov seamlessly embodies the role of the charismatic lawyer, albeit he occasionally overdoes it during moments of "spiritual revelation." Olga LerMan’s portrayal of Maria Demidova brings in necessary drama, yet she lacks the charisma to render her character memorable. In contrast, Nikolai Shraiber adeptly compensates for his co-star’s shortcomings, crafting a vivid portrayal of a mad husband brimming with expressiveness.
Igor Gordin, playing Pobedonostsev, draws on his theatrical background to infuse his character with substance. However, his portrayal suffers from the absurdities imposed by the script. Overall, the casting aligns with the series' general standard—solid but lacking refinement.
Visuals and Technical Execution
Despite its narrative shortcomings, the visual elements of the series deserve commendation. The costumes, sets, and cinematography craft an ambiance that, while not wholly immersing the viewer in the real 19th century, does possess a certain aesthetic appeal. The flashbacks, abundant throughout the series, are stylishly captured, though occasionally they veer into overstylization. A notable flaw is the sluggish pacing of scenes, which sometimes resemble theatrical productions stripped of cinematic vitality.
Finales and Takeaways
"Plevako" stands as a quintessential product of contemporary Russian television, teetering on the precipice of parody while striving to create something noteworthy. The creators seek to please everyone—fans of historical dramas, action lovers, and those who appreciate light absurdity. The result is an eclectic venture that elicits a mix of laughter, irritation, and curiosity.
Should you invest time in watching this series? If you’re prepared to overlook the narrative inconsistencies and historical blunders, "Plevako" may offer some decent entertainment value. However, expecting depth and accuracy from it would be a folly. Rather, it’s akin to an amusement ride than a serious work of art, and perhaps therein lies its most significant merit.