Exploring the Complex World of the Series 'Plevako'

The series "Plevako," directed by Anna Matisson and released in 2024, has emerged as one of the year's most hotly debated projects. Starring notable talents such as Sergey Bezrukov, Nikolai Shraiber, Olga Lerman, and Maria Smolnikova, the show captivates with its star-studded ensemble. Yet beneath the glimmering surface lies a complex creation that has sparked fierce criticism while simultaneously igniting viewer interest. Let us delve deeper into what this project truly entails.

Plot: A Picture Book Instead of a Historical Drama

Publicized as being rooted in real events, the series quickly reveals to viewers that adherence to historical accuracy is not at the forefront of the creators’ intentions. The tale of the renowned lawyer Fyodor Nikiforovich Plevako morphs into a cinematic comic book filled with elements of action, mysticism, and ludicrous romance. Our protagonist, renamed Nikolai Fyodorovich (presumably to cater to an audience struggling to pronounce the original name), appears as a modern-day superhero, equipped with parkour skills, kung fu mastery, and other astounding abilities.

The narrative kicks off with an absurd sequence where Plevako, after performing a pagan last rite for his mother, showcases his talents in underground no-holds-barred fights. He then makes his way back to Moscow to take on a sensational murder case involving an aristocrat. Each episode focuses on the next courtroom showdown, during which our hero employs a blend of deduction, encyclopedic knowledge, and even the capability to recreate 3D projections of the past. This is interspersed with acrobatic stunts and flashbacks that pull the audience into an absurd mix of historical farce and "The Matrix."

Historical Accuracy: A Victim of Postmodernism

One of the primary sources of criticism aimed at the series is its blatant disregard for historical facts. For instance, the character of Konstantin Petrovich Pobedonoscev, the prominent prosecutor of the Holy Synod, unexpectedly intervenes in an everyday criminal case. Such a plot twist stretches credibility, especially considering that the Holy Synod was largely preoccupied with spiritual matters and censorship. Additionally, the regular encounters of the characters in Moscow raise eyebrows since Pobedonoscev’s official duties were based in Saint Petersburg. The creators seem to lack diligence in understanding historical realities—perhaps they envision some prototype of a high-speed train, zipping between the two capitals in the 19th century.

Another antagonist, the industrialist Demidov, is depicted as a caricature of a retrograde villain who engages in absurd displays of rage and psychological abuse towards his wife. This shallow portrayal strips the character of depth, rendering him a mere archetype of the stereotypical “bad guy,” intended only to cast a more favorable light on the protagonist's virtues.

Adaptational Struggles: Western Tropes on Russian Soil

Inevitably, comparisons to Western films and series arise. Unlike successful productions such as “Lincoln” or “Gangs of New York,” which carefully translate historical narratives, "Plevako" feels akin to a poorly translated comic. Attempting to mirror contemporary trends results in the inclusion of ridiculous elements: Plevako’s assistant frequently peppers his speech with English terms, while the protagonist emphasizes his Kalmyk identity with a theatrical flair that would make any Marvel superhero envious.

The impact of feminism and cultural Marxism is apparent, manifested through the portrayals of strong and independent female characters whose lines occasionally echo slogans from Twitter. Instead of crafting deep, nuanced characters, the creators lean on clichés designed to appease today’s audience.

Casting and Performances

Amidst a lackluster script, the performances of the actors stand out markedly. Sergey Bezrukov seamlessly embodies the role of the charismatic lawyer, although he occasionally overacts during moments of supposed "spiritual epiphanies." Olga Lerman, playing Maria Demidova, introduces crucial dramatic tension, but she noticeably lacks the charisma needed to make her character memorable. Conversely, Nikolai Shraiber effectively compensates for his co-star’s deficiencies, bringing to life a deranged husband with vibrant expression.

Igor Gordin, portraying Pobedonoscev, taps into his theatrical background to infuse the character with depth. However, his role suffers from the farcical nature of the script. Overall, the casting is in line with the general standard of the project: solid, albeit without much flair.

Visuals and Technical Execution

Despite numerous narrative shortcomings, the visual aspect of the series merits commendation. Costumes, sets, and cinematography convincingly create an atmosphere that, while failing to transport viewers back to the authentic 19th century, still appears aesthetically pleasing. The numerous flashbacks, laden throughout the series, are stylishly executed, though at times they lean toward the overly theatrical. A primary drawback remains the lack of dynamic pacing, with scenes occasionally resembling theatrical productions that lack cinematic vigor.

Final Thoughts and Culminations

"Plevako" stands as a quintessential product of modern Russian television, teetering on the edge between parody and an earnest attempt to forge something monumental. The creators aim to cater to all demographics: lovers of historical dramas, fans of action flicks, and those who appreciate light-hearted absurdity. The result is an eclectic project that incites equal parts laughter, frustration, and curiosity.

So, is it worth watching this series? If you are open to overlooking plot inconsistencies and historical blunders, "Plevako" may serve as an entertaining diversion. However, one should not expect profound insights or historical precision. It functions more as a spectacle than a serious artistic work, and perhaps therein lies its main value.