POLICE AND THIEVES ON THE STREET.

A raw Kyrgyz gangster-movie-with-a-heart makes waves in Kazakstahn thanks to a Russian translation.

Police and thieves on the street

Oh, yeah

Scaring the nation with their

Guns and ammunition. Junior Murvin (song)

To date the only modern cultural association that I could make with Kyrgyzstan was the charming pop band Gorod 312. I doubt that I am alone in knowing very little of Kyrgyz cinema. That which comes to the attention of the world’s stage tends to be the kind that pleases the niche viewership of cineastes who like films from this part of the world to be contemplations on village life and so on.

Against this background, the emergence of RAZBOI (Robbery) this year represents a refreshing green shoot – not so much in Kyrgyz cinema but in its acceptance outside of its own country.

(TRAILER HERE).

This film is urban and concerns the here-and-now and can speak to anyone from any culture.

 A movie with a 50,000-dollar budget, RAZBOI however, has not penetrated the art house cinemas of New York, London or Paris yet, but, thanks to the ongoing lingua franca which is Russian it has begun wowing a new audience in Kazakhstan.

The film has been gracing Kazakh cinemas since 19th January of this year and the director of Kinopoisk and Kinoplex cinemas (who are responsible for the screenings) Yurlan Bukhurbaev told Mail KZ (February), after noting that the showings drew good crowds, that ` a certain excitement has developed around the film. `

Made in Bishkek.

After being shot in Bishkek, the capital of Kyrgyzstan, RAZBOI then got professionally dubbed into Russian in a studio in Moscow. Running for 84 minutes and released with no age certificate, it is very much not a `family movie`.

The stark title says it all: this is a `criminal drama` just as advertised, having something in common with both the gangster and heist subgenres, as well as the `police procedural`. The creators claim a genuine news story from Bishkek as their starting point.

The directors are the 48-year-old Maksat Zhumaev, who hails from Naryn in Kyrgyzstan and Azamat Ismailov, both quite new to the game. Likewise, many of the players seem to be new faces – at least outside of their home country. Atai Omurbekov starred in Empty House (2012) a bleak social realist fable (which I have seen) about a young woman’s attempt to escape from the poverty of her milieu. I have drawn a blank on the other names, but they include:  Adyl Bolorbekuulu, Zhyldyzbek Kaseyinov, Bek Bostonbaev and Uchkun Absalamov.

Azamat Izmailov (Picnob.com)

Armed greed.

One late winter in Bishkek an assortment of five ruthless outlaws are busy committing a string of robberies throughout the city. Their modus operandi is as simple as it is bold. They intercept vehicles transporting hard cash from bank to bank and take off with the loot. These mercenaries are also cold-blooded killers who show no scruples about gunning down whoever should stand in their way. Life is cheap for them.

Meanwhile, a police task force is not quite hot on their heals and indeed, seems to be outwitted by their quarry. The relationship between the cops and robbers is one of a kind of Cold War. Espionage even plays a part in the proceedings with an attractive young police officer in plainclothes used to elicit the phone number of one member of the gang so that he may be tracked and a street cleaner who is an undercover cop.

In this `man’s world` of phone calls and car trips, both sides have to contend with issues. With the robbers there is the question of trust: who of their posse can really be relied upon? The police have girlfriend and wife problems, with their lovers feeling abandoned as the twenty-four-seven demands of the hunt take its toll.

The stakes are high and the contemptuous killing of one of the law enforcement brethren during a stake out forms the centerpiece of this film. We get to see a dignified police funeral juxtaposed with the man’s would-be fiancé in the process of marrying a rival suitor.

Of course, the men in uniform will vanquish the baddies, but will pay a heavy price in so doing….

Tragic realism.

Despite some tense, indeed harrowing, sequences RAZBOI is no action movie. The narrative is more of an unheroic slice-of-life one. Enough screen time is devoted to the criminals to get across the fact that they are all too human. We even get a hint as to their motivation: we see one of their number, on the pretext of going out to buy groceries, call on his ailing mother in a rundown country bungalow.

In fact, it is only the violence instigated by the gangsters – shown in an unvarnished but not gratuitous way -that identifies them as obvious wrongdoers.

The film showcases some explosive acting and this is supported by a classical-electronic score that plays throughout all of the film (the exception being the police funeral which makes use of Kyrgyz rap to good effect).

RAZBOI climaxes in a way reminiscent of a Jacobean revenge-tragedy with needless slaughter all round. The consequences of violent crime are brought home and the trigger-happy bling-centered lifestyle of the gangsters is far from glamourised.  The film is not cynical though: the end credits name check an actual policeman – Marat  – who lost his life in the real life crime case which inspired this film.

Flagship success.

In the same interview quoted in Mail KZ Mr. Bukharbaev went onto to say:

`This is an example of the fact that huge budgets and state support are not always needed to realise a hit production. `

Indeed, the 75% full cinema that I attended on February 3rd was quite new to me. I also noted that the audience was not quite what I might have expected. I had envisioned this as being a film for youngish men – yet behind me sat a row of chic unaccompanied Kazakh ladies.

Lead image: Instagram.

FACE CONTROL: The TV series VIZHU – SNAYU/I SEE – I KNOW.

An upbeat mystery investigation adventure enlivened by an intriguing premise.

Crime seems to be the default genre option in Russian television drama and is as easy to find as a take-away coffee vendor on a Moscow high street.

Most of these constitute belt and braces hokum of the cops-and-robbers variety, replete with much cynical violence in the form of fisticuffs and shootouts.

However, when the Ukrainian (but Russian language) show The Sniffer first wafted onto our screens several years ago even the Western critics were a bit impressed by what could be done with this tired old subgenre.

Pretenders.

The Gazprom owned television company NTV has spawned a plethora of crime yarns and many of them cannot really be differentiated. Some, though, seem to be attempting to riff on The Sniffer.

One of these is Schubert (2017) and the recent Genius (Genniy) from last year.

The former features a protagonist with enhanced hearing abilities which result in him being put to work by the military.

The word `cheesy` seems to have been invented for this drama as the tortured young man, hot lover in tow, battles with moustache twirling Central Asian villains. I could only manage one episode.

Genius – in which a mathematical prodigy uses his algebraic prowess for an insurance company – was, however, easier on my grey cells but bent the wand too far in being somewhat dry.

Vizhu – Snayu or I See – I know, also courtesy of NTV, steers a mid-course between these two extremes. It was first aired in June 2016 and is a 16 + rated series made up of 46 minute long episodes. It was made by Kinostudio Medved from an idea by Viktor Soghomonyan (who was behind Posolstvo/ Embassy from 2018).

[Mdeved Kinostudios/NTV television]
Superheroine.

The star is Anna Slyu (Slyusareva) a thrice married 39-year-old who made her name in the Daywatch/ Nightwatch franchise (2004/2006).

As Zhanna Vladimirovna she works as a police lieutenant who has been gifted with face reading abilities since childhood. She is now ` an expert in physiognomy and neuropsychology`. That is to say she can gather from observing a person’s facial features not only their character but their marital status and number of children and so on. (Zhanna’s face gazing activities form a large part of the architecture of the drama. They are realised through close-ups of Zhanna’s grey-eyed stare and of people’s faces complete with echoing voices and swishing sound effects).

Following her foiling of a terrorist attack on a supermarket, the general of a police unit introduces her to Mayor Kataev as a new part of the team. They are told to work together despite his dismissal of her talent a a `pseudo-science`.

Kataev – played by Sergei Gorobchenko (Provodnik, 2018) seems your standard self-assured no-nonsense lawman but he comes to respect his kookier new companion.

Alongside him is the inevitable tough-guy-with-a- heart – Petrov (Nikolai Kovbas (Temporary Difficulties, 2018), and Tvorizhkov, the ambitious rookie cop (Anton Khabarov, a veteran of the small screen) and the uniformed General who is heard in a shout most of the time, but is for once rather thin.

Such a team also requires a keyboard whizz. This vacancy is filled by Valeriy Pankov (Queen of Spades: Through the Looking Glass, 2019). He plays him, not as the usual geek, but more a stylish hipster. Yet we learn that he has a murky past with some mobster involvements.

Puzzling cases.

The team face cases involving mass poisonings, a weird cult that stages ritual murders, a strangler menacing the theatrical community and suchlike. Just as these cases seem to be cut and dried, Zhanna will add some plot thickening extra detail as gleaned from her facial recognition probings.

Throughout this she has a nemesis. Danilov a ruthless business tycoon, given to dining on balconies that have stunning views over the river Moskva, also possesses Zhanna’s face reading powers but uses them for his personal advancement.

Like a Moriarty figure, he appears to be behind various cloak-and-dagger operations aimed at creaming off the spoils of the criminal activities that the police squad are out to quash. (He is evoked to hiss inducing perfection by Sergei Shnyrev from What Men Talk About, 2010).

[Yandex.By]
Not just bang – bang.

Despite being billed as `crime action`, I See – I know is based more on intrigue.The fast- paced script, by Leonid Korvin, creates a plot that resembles the opening up of an endless matrioshka doll. Each story is convoluted and takes up around two episodes. They conclude with Zhanna drawing philosophical conclusions to herself in her room full of her sketches of faces.

The open plan office the cops share allows for plenty of merry banter and there is space for human interest sub plots too.The hacker is besotted with Zhanna but is forever being rejected, in a polite way, by her. Zhanna lives with her sister and shares chocolate cake eating contests with her. Kataev, meanwhile has ongoing issues with his estranged daughter. Petrov tends to become too involved in his work: when a young member of his family is present at a shooting he becomes obsessive in his pursuit of the perpetrator.

Inspired theme.

The humdrum Moscow setting is enlivened a bit through stylish fragmented screen shots between scenes. They also borrow from the ubiquitous Sherlock in showing on-screen the names of mobile callers as they make a mobile call.

However, what adds much to the identity of the series must be the score composed by fifty year old Alexei Lukyanov. He has produced scores for many shows in this genre and here he serves up a manic waltz which foregrounds the twisty and quirky ethos of the entire drama. Likewise, his incidental music – set on `spine-tingle` mode – elevates the series above the realm of the ordinary.

Individual.

Female leads are not uncommon in contemporary Russia’s post-feminist culture. They are, however more of a novelty in the detective genre and Slyu, with her aristocratic looks and cool demeanour, does a lot to stamp some individuality onto what is a fairly standard format.

Offering a refreshing alternative to the `machismo` of many other similar shows and with a Spy-Fi premise that is more `real world` than The Sniffer, I see – I know packs a lot of charm. Alas, it only made one series of 24 episodes. There was so much more to build on here.

Here’s the first series:

 Main image: Kino.Mail.ru

See also my reviews of Freud’s Method and Akademia. Also of Rassvet, which featured Anna Slyu.

 

TEXT AND BE DAMNED: The Russian film TEKCT.

Anger is not something we expect from Russian cinema – but it is here at last.

TEKCT enjoyed a Decent run in the Moscow film theatre but I could only get to see it a week after its 24th October release at the Rodin theatre in Semyenovskaya.

With its train station-lie dowdiness and the Hammer and Sickle still there above the cash desk, and the harried staff, this place proved to be a fitting venue to catch this social realist fable. In fact I just nabbed the last available place in the twenty seat capacity projection room which had been set aside for the film.

TEKCT constitutes a drama thriller some two hours in length and with an 18+ certificate (hence featuring a lot of irritating bleeps over the bad language). Set very much in the Moscow of today, this picture represents an adaptation, by the author himself, of the novel By Dmitry Glukhovsky (of the Metro franchise) – which has yet to be translated into English.

General Partnership were the distributors, and the man in the high chair was one Kilma Shipenko who was behind the docudrama Salyut 7 (2017).
The soundtrack, which alternated between electronica and sombre classical owes to the prolific forty something composer Dmitry Noskov whose previous credits include the soundtrack to Attraction (2017).

Star vehicle.
Russia’s man-of-the-moment, the Yaroslavl born thirty-year old Alexander Petrov fills the shoes of the iconic role of the film’s anti-hero. (He seems to be cornering the market in troubled youths: whetther it is his role as the hotheaded insurgent in Attraction or his depiction of one Nikolai Gogol in the Gogol franchise (2017 -2018) ).
His co-stars include 29-year-old Ivan Yankovski, who cropped up in Queen of Spades: Dark Rite (2016) – as the Golden Boy hate figure – and the 27-year-old Kristina Asmus who has been setting pulses racing in the television medical comedy Intern since 2010.

The new Brat?
TEKCT was competing in the Russian box offices with Joker. It would be egregious of me to draw too many parallels between these two distinct products. I do, however, feel that they partake of the same zetgeist. Both highlight the plight of – and potential danger of – troubled young men on the margins of society.
Another comparison already being made is with the much vaunted earlier Russian movie Brat (Aleksei Balabanov, 1997).
An article by Anastasia Rogova in the (hard copy) newspaper Vechernaya Moskva (24th – 31st October issue) finds TEKCT wanting in relation to the other legendary film. However, the mere fact that the films have been bracketed together at all implies to me that TEKCT is a film that Russians will be discussing still for some time to come.

A Hero of Our Times?
Ilya Gorunov (Petrov), a graphic design student, attempts to blag some money off his mother so that he can hit the town with his girlfriend.When she refuses he takes the money anyway…
Next we see him a standard young man about town with his girlfriend in tow and in a trendy nightclub. His fun is interrupted when the politisia carry out a drugs raid the premises and seem to take interest in his woman. He protests, and then, in a scene which calls to mind Midnight Express, is himself arrested after a stash of cannabis seems to be found on his person. (We know the cops have planted this on him).
Seven years later, after having been imprisoned for drug trafficking, the hapless youth is released from his provincial jail and back into the real world.
Returning to Moscow, now a shambling figure in a parka and ill-fitting trousers, Ilya finds that his mother has passed away and that his friends have moved on.
He then tracks down his persecutor – Pyotr (Yankovski). In a fit of rancour he slaughters him by accident. He hides the corpse down a manhole and takes off with the victims cellphone….

Window on the other half.

Ivan Yankovski as the Golden Boy.
[newsmyseldon.com}

Here the Metro author’s gift for simple but ingenious plot ideas comes into play.
Ilya begins to experiment with the shady lawman’s phone. He begins to watch the many videos the man had downloaded showing his life of conspicuous consumption. He indulges in envious voyeurism at the lifestyle that he has been deprived of. He even pleasures himself over proxy sex with the man’s girlfriend (Asmus).
He becomes ever more embroiled in the man’s stolen identity living a sort of substitute existence. He answers text messages – explaining his absence by saying that he is in Columbia – and connects with the girlfriend.
This film shares the same concern with the loss of identity that social media can encourage in the much more stylish film Selfie (Khomeriki 2018).
Another resonance is with the Garros Evdomikov novel (as I reviewed earlier) Headcrusher (2003). This also evokes a lawman who wins female trophies and an oustider who gets to tangle with the games of the Big Boys. Ilya may be somewhat pathetic but the kind of modern Russian freeloaders that he is up against are far, far worse than he is.

Howl.
The film closes on a defiant note with a denouement that has shades of  Butch Cassidy and  the Sundance Kid (1969) about it.
This could not be called a lovable film and I would not hurry to see it again just yet; however it is unflinching in its honesty and of importance in its themes – all qualities which Russian cinema too often lacks.
Petrov has turned in a fine, vigorous and physical performance in a film in which the camera is almost always on him.
Some gratitude is also due to Glukhovsky who, in his fortieth year, has Hollywood knocking on his door but has still retained his oppositional spunk.

Trailer to TEKCT (Russian).

Main image: bel.kp.ru

`Freud’s Method`: A Russian small screen sleuth.

 

[rs.titlovi.com]
This standard cop thriller hardly breaks any new ground, but does at least ooze a Muscovite ambience.

A `universal palliative equal to tea, aspirins and the wireless`, said George Orwell of the British and their detective stories. In Russia the situation seems little different.

From Dostoevsky’s Crime and Punishment (1866) through to the Soviet era where Vil Lipatov introduced us to Captain Prokhorov, a Perry Mason for the Brezhnev period, and the T.V classic The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes and Doctor Watson (1979 – 1986), whose Vasily Ivanov was honoured with an M.B.E for his portrayal of Holmes, and which surprised Holmes fans worldwide with its devotion to the legend, Russians have clasped mysteries to their breasts.Then we even have a rock band named Agata Kristie! In the Russian language the name for a detective novel is simply `detektiv` – no need for any other elaboration.

The mean streets of Moscow.

Whilst the Russian/Ukrainian success story The Sniffer, with its high production values, may yet do for the Slavic input to the crime genre that Wallander did for Scandinavian noir, Freud’s Method (Metod Freyda) – not to be confused with Sreda’s more recent The Method (a riff on Dexter) -is a more modest and domestic affair. The creation of Star Media (better known for their sunny `melodramas`) and running since 2012, Freud’s Method occurs against the backdrop of an identifiable Moscow and its premise is altogether less absurd than the better known product.

Mikhail Vaynberg was behind the clapboard for the first Season with Vladimir Dyachenko and Aleksei Krasovsky tapping out the scripts. From 2014 a second series – Freud’s Method 2 –was born and a fresh newcomer – Ivan Stakhnakov took over directing duties and a whole team of writers worked on the stories. Both had 12 episodes of 50 minutes in length.

Enigmatic lead.

The anti-hero sleuth at the core of it all is one Roman Freydin (Ivan Okhlobstyn). A former professional poker player and globe-trotter turned psychologist, Freydin now finds himself employed as a `special consultant` to the Prosecutor’s Office. The eponymous `method` represents his ability to use mind games the better to draw out suspects into self-confession.

In many ways a Holmesian figure – aloof, seeming to lack feeling, arrogant and sometimes supercilious, there are nevertheless hints that he is lonely man. Moreover, Okhlobstyn, himself 52, plays the detective as a youthful dandy in yellow sweaters and socks, and one not above having liaisons with his suspects. Nevertheless,his speech is often provocative: upon encountering the corpses of a murdered young married couple he comments: `They’ll not be squabbling in slippers`. Otherwise he tends towards Wildean aphorisms: `Happy lovers always tell lies,unhappy lovers always tell the truth`, For instance, or `A woman’s secret is like a baby. It needs to stay inside for some time`. We also learn that Freydin has picked up some quasi-special powers during his sojourns abroad. From shamans he has mastered the art of mimicking his own death and it appears that he was the mystery saviour who saved his own boss from a helicopter accident in the Himalayas.

[ruskino.ru]
The merry band.

The cops Freydin works with function as a kind of surrogate family to him as they seek to crack unusual homicide cases on the icy boulevards of Moscow. We encounter an elegant and no-nonsense investigator played by the prolific actress Natalia Antonova (for whom Freydin nurses a forever unrequited longing). Then we have the dour jobbing plainclothes policeman (Aleksei Grishkin) whose unobtrusiveness contrasts with the persona of Freydin. It is inevitable that we also need two perky young male and female officers too who function as eye-candies and who drive a soap opera – type `will they/won’t they?` romantic suspense sub-plot. In the first season these consist of Pavel Priluchniy and Elena Nikoleava and in the second Roman Polyanski and the striking Olga Dibsteva. Presiding over them all is Artur Vaha playing the sort of stout, uniformed paterfamilias so beloved of Russian dramas.

Some episodes do tackle some specific issues, and not such comfortable ones to a Russian television audience. One story in Season one (Series 4) concerns the murder of an immigrant by a vengeful father who believes that he has raped her daughter…and yet we discover that the truth is rather more tangled than that. With its closing message that Illegal Immigrants Have Rights Too, this is one gold nugget of an episode. (I have linked this below).

Still escapism.

For all this murky social realism, however, there is a comedic element to it all. This is true in particular of Season 2 where the pace speeds up. (There is, for example a running gag where Freydin is forever being pestered by unsolicited phone calls from pizza deliverers). In fact the lives of our crime busters might be seen to be quite enviable: all breezy philosophising in the staff room, then gadding about the city with time for flirting and dating, all the while managing to look chic. Many an episode closes over a contemplative glass of cognac. So, like many a western crime drama, Freud’s Method fosters an impression that it offers a slice of modern life but wraps it all up in comforting stylishness.

Beguiled.

Seldom a watcher of equivalent detective shows in the West, I came to Freud’s Method at first in seek of a Russian language learning aid. To the show itself I needed to be won over, but won over I was. The involvement of the talented Mr Okhlobstyn sets up a stumbling block. Alas, this former Orthodox priest has gained notoriety on account of his quasi-fascistic standpoints on nationalism and minority sexualities. This troubles me, but the character he plays does not reflect the real life actor, far from it in fact. The franchise seems to have its heart in the right forward-looking place and does so, furthermore, whilst exuding the somehow cosy spirit of Moscow.

Episode from Season 1 (English subtitles).

The Orwell quotation comes from `The Detective Story, 1943 ` Seeing things As They Are’, Pengiun Modern Classics, 2016

 

 

C.S.I Kiev: Is `The Sniffer` a gateway to Russian language mass culture?

 

[Image: estudiobackstage.com]
The reason why the Ukraine is the maker of the most talked about Russian language T.V show owes to the fact that, whatever else may be happening between those countries, Russia continues to harbour a voracious appetite for Ukrainian television.

That Nyukhach – The Sniffer is being consumed in 60 countries – including the Balkans and Israel and now France has bought it, and Japan have now rolled out their own copycat version, must signify something.

 

Nyukhach is a detective series created by Film U.A Television and dreamt up and penned by the Ukrainian Artyom Litvinenko. The two main stars comprise Kirril Karo, an Estonian, plus the Russian Ivan Oganesyan. This show, which has been on air in Russia since December 2013, is now available on You tube, Amazon Prime and Netflix. Western observers are already comparing Nyukhach in favourable terms to the likes of the U.K’s Sherlock and The Mentalist from the U.S.A.

Elite Squad.

The eponymous protagonist, the gaunt 43-year-old Karo, is known to the press as `the dogman` on account of his special power. His enhanced olfactory sensitivities enable him to retrace the history of objects, rooms and people which he smells (an activity imagined on the screen in terms of vaporous CGI after-images). This, coupled with the encyclopaedic knowledge of the origins of scents, has turned him into a misanthropic recluse. The power also provides him with clear advantages in criminal investigations and it just so happens that a schoolboy friend heads a police unit called the Special Bureau of Investigations, which deals with off beat cases. This friend, the Sniffer’s only one, is the all; purpose womanising tough guy. Soon the Sniffer is dragged with reluctance into adventures, such as a case where a former military general, who served in Afghanistan, who spices up his retirement by hiring casual labourers on his estate and then hunting them down in a nearby forest.

Individual episodes feature stand alone tales – and they appear to take place in Russia judging by police insignia and so on –but there is a wider story arc involving love interests, family issues and a medical conspiracy.

Popular television.

This drama cannot not stand alongside the faux realism of the Scandinavian school of noir crime thriller. Nyukhach functions on a more escapist level. There can be a fair bit of dry humour arising between the strained relationship between the hero, who is a gun-shy amateur, and his police buddy who nurtures a kick-ass impatience with the Sniffer’s delicate sensibilities.

The visual design feels septic and futuristic (the Sniffer often retires to his own den which is a hi-tech luxury flat with an ensuite laboratory to analyse scents). Whilst the show does raise some issues in an oblique way – bullying in the army, corruption and class division –this is not the daily reality that most residents of Kiev or Moscow would recognise.

The characterisation in the script and performances is notably ham fisted. The Sniffer himself is the Solitary Brainbox whereas his sidekick embodies the Bondian Action Hero. Then we are treated to the Nagging Ex-Wife, the Difficult Teenager, the Long Suffering Hard-nosed Boss and, courtesy of the Lithuanian actress Agne Gruditye, the Beautiful Female Professional who Demands Respect. It is here that the derivative nature of the programme is laid most bare.

Western Sniffiness.

Outside of Eastern Europe Nyukhach has been received with begrudging acknowledgement. See, for example, Chris Riendeau’s treatment of it in The Tusk (13/07/2017) where he concludes with the conceit that Putin scripted the show! Marvel too at the remark of a satisfied viewer – quoted in U.A Film News: `I have to stop and pinch myself that I’m watching a Ukrainian T.V show` -!

However, this unoriginal Ukrainian success story might just help to wear down the prejudice in the West against Russian language television shows and films. After seeing this some viewers may well give other such products their time.` Freud’s Method`, anyone?