Exploring the Unique Blend of History and Fiction in Plevako

The aptly titled "Plevako," directed by Anna Matisson and released in 2024, has sparked considerable discussion, quickly becoming one of the year's most debated projects. With prominent actors like Sergey Bezrukov, Nikolai Shraiber, Olga Lerman, and Maria Smolnikova leading the cast, the series certainly boasts star power. However, beneath the glitz and glam lies a controversial work that has not only drawn criticism but has also piqued viewer interest. Let's delve into what this series truly embodies.

Plot: A Tale Dressed as Historical Drama

Labeled as a show based on real events, "Plevako" reveals in its earliest moments that historical accuracy isn’t the priority for its creators. The narrative surrounding the illustrious lawyer Fyodor Nikiforovich Plevako morphs into an exaggerated cinematic comic, incorporating elements of action, mysticism, and bizarre romance. The protagonist, renamed Nikolai Fyodorovich—presumably for the ease of an audience struggling with the original name—appears as a contemporary superhero with an extraordinary array of skills, including parkour, kung fu, and an almost superhero-like ability to perceive his surroundings.

The story kicks off with an absurd scene depicting Plevako, performing a pagan ritual at his mother’s funeral before showcasing his prowess in underground no-holds-barred fights. Shortly after, he heads back to Moscow to tackle a sensational murder case involving an aristocrat. Each episode revolves around a new courtroom drama, where our hero relies on deduction, an encyclopedic range of knowledge, and the uncanny gift of recreating 3D projections of historical events. All this is interspersed with acrobatic stunts and flashbacks that ensnare the audience into a ludicrous blend of historical farce and a scene reminiscent of "The Matrix."

Historical Accuracy: A Victim of Postmodernism

One of the principal sources of critique aimed at the series is its brazen manipulation of historical facts. An example of this is the inclusion of Konstantin Petrovich Pobedonostsev, the Chief Prosecutor of the Holy Synod, as a central antagonist who inexplicably meddles in a mundane criminal case. This narrative twist seems preposterous, given that the Holy Synod primarily dealt with spiritual matters and censorship. Further raising eyebrows is the frequent mixing of characters in Moscow despite Pobedonostsev’s actual role based in St. Petersburg. It appears the writers were unconcerned with authentic historical context—perhaps, they envisioned a mythical version of the Sapsan train linking the two capitals in the 19th century.

Additionally, the character of the industrialist Demidov is depicted as a caricature of a retrograde villain, engaged in domestic dish-breaking and psychological torment of his spouse. Such a portrayal lacks depth and transforms the character into a stereotypical antagonist, crafted merely to highlight the protagonist’s virtue without any complexity.

Adaptation Challenges: Western Tropes on Russian Soil

Inevitably, comparisons with Western films and series arise. Unlike successful adaptations such as "Lincoln" or "Gangs of New York," which carefully reinterpret historical stories, "Plevako" resembles a poorly translated comic book. Attempts to mimic contemporary trends lead to laughable moments: at times, Plevako’s assistant interjects English phrases into conversations, while the hero’s overzealous expression of his Kalmyk identity could make even a Marvel superhero green with envy.

Notably, the influences of feminism and cultural Marxism become evident through the strong and independent female characters, whose dialogues occasionally read as slogans from Twitter. Instead of rich character development, the creators resort to clichés designed to cater to modern audiences.

Casting and Performances

Amid a lackluster script, the actors shine with commendable performances. Sergey Bezrukov embodies the charismatic lawyer adeptly, although there are moments when he edges toward overacting during scenes filled with supposed spiritual epiphanies. Olga Lerman's portrayal of Maria Demidova injects necessary drama, yet she struggles to imbue her character with lasting charm. In contrast, Nikolai Shraiber fills in his partner’s gaps skillfully, crafting a vivid image of a crazed husband with vibrant expression.

Igor Gordin’s characterization of Pobedonostsev draws on his theatrical background, imbuing the role with depth. Unfortunately, his character suffers from the absurdities rooted in the script. Overall, the casting aligns with the series' general caliber: competent, yet lacking in finesse.

Visual Flair and Technical Execution

Despite its narrative shortcomings, the visual aesthetics of the series earn commendation. The costumes, set designs, and cinematography foster an ambiance that, although failing to plunge viewers into a genuine 19th-century milieu, is visually appealing enough. The flashbacks are executed stylishly, albeit occasionally straying into the territory of overindulgence. One significant drawback, however, is the sluggish scene dynamics, with some moments resembling theater productions devoid of the kinetic vitality reflective of cinema.

Endings and Takeaways

"Plevako" epitomizes a quintessential product of contemporary Russian television, teetering on the edge of parody while simultaneously aspiring to create something magnificent. The creators strive to please a diverse audience: from lovers of historical dramas to action enthusiasts, and those who revel in light absurdity. The result is an eclectic project that elicits a mix of laughter, irritation, and curiosity.

So, is "Plevako" worth watching? If you can overlook its narrative inconsistencies and historical inaccuracies, you might find it to be an entertaining distraction. Yet, don’t expect depth or accuracy; it leans more towards amusement than being a serious artistic endeavor—and perhaps therein lies its most significant value.