Exploring the Mixed Reviews of the Plevako Series

The series "Plevako", which premiered in 2024 under the direction of Anna Matison, has swiftly emerged as one of the most talked-about projects of the year. Featuring a cast led by Sergey Bezrukov, Nikolai Shrayber, Olga Lerman, and Maria Smolnikova, it boasts stellar names and a visual allure. Yet beneath the surface glamour lies a work which has sparked fierce criticism while simultaneously igniting viewer interest. Let’s delve deep into what this project truly represents.

Plot: A Cartoon Instead of Historical Drama

At its core, the series claims to be inspired by real events; however, it becomes evident from the very opening scenes that historical accuracy is far removed from the creators' priorities. The narrative of the illustrious lawyer Fyodor Nikiforovich Plevako morphs into a cinematic comic book, blending action, mysticism, and peculiar romance. The protagonist, renamed Nikolai Fyodorovich (presumably to cater to audiences who might struggle with the original name), emerges as a modern superhero endowed with skills in parkour, kung fu, superhuman vision, and other equally astonishing abilities.

The story kicks off with an absurdity, featuring Plevako performing a pagan burial for his mother and showcasing his prowess in underground no-holds-barred fighting. Soon, he finds himself back in Moscow, grappling with a high-profile murder case involving an aristocrat. Each episode focuses on a courtroom battle where our hero employs deduction, encyclopedic knowledge, and the ability to recreate 3D projections of the past. This narrative thread is interspersed with acrobatic feats and flashbacks, plunging the audience into a ridiculous amalgam of historical farce and elements reminiscent of "The Matrix."

Historical Authenticity: The Casualty of Postmodernism

One of the primary sources of criticism stems from the series' distinctly liberal use of historical facts. For instance, the antagonist is none other than Konstantin Petrovich Pobedonostsev, the Chief Prosecutor of the Holy Synod, who unexpectedly meddles in a mundane criminal case. This plot twist seems absurd, given that the Holy Synod was primarily concerned with spiritual matters and censorship. Additionally, the frequent crossing of paths among characters in Moscow raises eyebrows since Pobedonostsev was based in Saint Petersburg. It seems the creators were not overly concerned with historical realities—perhaps in their minds, a prototype of the "Sapsan" train zipped between the two capitals in the 19th century.

Another antagonist, businessman Demidov, is caricatured as a retrograde villain, indulging in the breaking of dishes and psychological torment of his wife. This depiction lacks depth, reducing the character to a mere template of the archetypal "bad guy," whose primary purpose is to accentuate the protagonist's virtue.

Adaptation Challenges: Western Clichés on Russian Soil

Inevitably, comparisons to Western films and series arise. Unlike successful projects like "Lincoln" or "Gangs of New York," which carefully adapt historical narratives, "Plevako" resembles a poorly translated comic book. The series attempts to mimic contemporary trends, resulting in absurd elements: Plevako's assistant regularly peppers his speech with English words, while the protagonist accentuates his Kalmyk identity in a manner reminiscent of any Marvel superhero.

The impact of feminism and cultural Marxism becomes glaringly apparent, illustrated by strong and independent female characters whose dialogues occasionally come off as slogans ripped straight from Twitter. Instead of thoroughly developing rich personalities, the creators rely on clichés designed to appease the modern viewer.

Casting and Performance

In the midst of a weak script, the actors deliver commendably. Sergey Bezrukov fits into the mold of the charismatic lawyer with relative ease, even though there are times he seems to overact in scenes of "spiritual epiphany." Olga Lerman, as Maria Demidova, injects a necessary emotional layer, though she noticeably lacks the charisma to make her character truly memorable. Meanwhile, Nikolai Shrayber effectively compensates for his co-star's shortcomings by crafting a vivid portrayal of a deranged husband with striking expression.

Igor Gordien, playing Pobedonostsev, channels his theatrical experience to add dimension to his character. However, his role is mired in script-driven absurdities. Overall, the casting aligns with the project's general level: competent but lacking the finesse that could elevate it.

Visuals and Technical Execution

Despite narrative shortcomings, the series' visual presentation deserves accolades. Costumes, sets, and cinematography effectively create an ambiance that, while not entirely plunging viewers into the historical 19th century, maintains a certain aesthetic appeal. The flashbacks, plentiful throughout, are shot stylishly—even if they sometimes exude an excessive affectation. A significant downside remains the sluggish pacing of scenes, occasionally resembling theatrical performances devoid of cinematic energy.

Culminations and Final Thoughts

"Plevako" emerges as a quintessential example of contemporary Russian television—a tightrope walk between parody and the aspiration to create something monumental. The creators aim to please everyone: fans of historical dramas, action enthusiasts, and those who appreciate a dash of absurdity. The end result is an eclectic project that elicits laughter, frustration, and curiosity in equal measure.

So, should one watch this series? If you’re ready to overlook narrative inconsistencies and historical inaccuracies, "Plevako" could very well deliver a decent dose of entertainment. However, expecting depth and historical fidelity would be folly. This series is more a diversion than a serious work, and perhaps therein lies its primary value.