In a candid interview broadcast on 7 days, actor Alexander Domogarov opened up about a difficult period in his life, describing what he called star disease. He recalled that during the 1990s he wrestled with a condition that distorted his judgment and made him feel untouchable. He admitted that his behavior was far from acceptable, and he found himself drifting through life with a dangerous sense of invincibility. There were moments when he treated people, including traffic police inspectors, with needless disrespect, a memory that still stings today.
Domogarov explained that at that time he believed he could bend reality to suit his desires. He now understands that this belief was a dangerous illusion. The actor described the era as a time of acute, outlandish conduct driven by arrogance and a false sense of priority. He recalled that the attitude did not just harm strangers on the street; it chipped away at his own sense of self and his evolving understanding of responsibility, especially toward people older than him who relied on his behavior to set a good example. The episode, he says, began to fade as the disease ran its course, but the impact lingered longer than the period of excess itself.
According to Domogarov, the turning point came when the cycle of excess began to crest and then recede. He credits a shift in perspective and the support of people who reminded him that fame is a platform, not a license. He notes that the most painful part of those years was realizing that indulgence can become a habit when left unchecked. He reached a point of recovery around the age of 40, and with that recovery came a clear-eyed assessment of how easily vanity can mislead a person who is constantly in the public eye. Even now, he speaks of those days with a mix of embarrassment and relief, acknowledging the damage done and the personal growth that followed.
Throughout the interview, Domogarov emphasizes that he learned a lasting lesson about humility and accountability. He describes the period as terrible, not merely for the missteps but for the way it undermined his own sense of worth. The experience, he implies, served as a catalyst for changes that shaped his later choices, the way he treats colleagues on set, and the public comments he makes about his craft. He stresses that acknowledging fault is essential to personal evolution and suggests that fame should amplify responsibility, not inflate it beyond measure.
Earlier, Domogarov had discussed another memorable moment from the early days of his career, mentioning his first experience wearing a woman’s outfit on the set of Ranevskaya. That anecdote, shared years ago, now sits alongside a later confession about the consequences of star disease. Taken together, these reflections offer a portrait of a performer who has faced the uncomfortable truths about fame and its temptations, choosing growth over bravado as the years progressed. The narrative underscores the difference between celebrity perception and personal truth, a distinction Domogarov has worked to honor in his professional life and in his public conversations about his past.
What remains clear from these reflections is a sustained commitment to accountability. Domogarov does not seek to minimize the missteps of his youth; instead he frames them as a cautionary tale about the intoxicating pull of celebrity and the discipline required to maintain integrity. As audiences in Canada, the United States, and beyond revisit his career, his openness lends credibility to his current work and invites a broader conversation about the responsibilities that come with visibility in the entertainment industry. The journey from arrogance to responsibility, he implies, is not a straight line but a winding path many actors travel as they mature and refine their craft. This narrative serves not only as a chronology of a difficult period but as a testament to resilience and the enduring value of self-restraint in the spotlight.