Actor Milos Bikovich recently opened up about the varying methods he has observed from directors Nikita Mikhalkov and Klim Shipenko, noting that their distinct approaches stem from the eras and temperaments they came up in. In a conversation with Around TV, he shed light on how each director brings a unique energy to the set, shaped by their personal histories and artistic instincts.
According to Bikovich, Mikhalkov remains firmly rooted in an old school tradition, one that often mirrors the dynamics of the theater. He described the veteran filmmaker as someone who expects actors to arrive on set ready to perform, with a posture that suggests the intensity of a live stage production. The sentiment conveyed a sense of pressure to deliver immediately, a hallmark of classical training that emphasizes immediacy and presence in front of the camera as if it were a private rehearsal room.
Reflecting on his own craft, Bikovich admitted that he can still recall lines from Mikhalkov’s 2014 project Sunstroke. Yet he acknowledged that the next day, the exact words from his current roles can slip away, a common experience in both screen and stage work where memory and muscle memory intersect. He suggested that actors often retain certain phrases from past performances long after they have moved on, a testament to how repetition and repetition can anchor memory in deeply ingrained habits.
In contrast, Bikovich described Shipenko as a director who delves deeply into the fabric of the story. He noted that Shipenko approaches a film with meticulous curiosity, investing time to understand every facet of the plot. This dedication to thorough preparation, Bikovich explained, translates into a sense of security on set, where decisions are made with a clear grasp of how each scene fits into the larger arc of the narrative.
He added that Shipenko does not shy away from challenges. On the contrary, he loves the thrill of the risk, showing a willingness to push boundaries in pursuit of a more compelling cinematic experience. Bikovich expressed admiration for these traits, recognizing them as essential to pushing a project beyond conventional expectations.
Despite their differences, Bikovich spoke warmly about his professional relationship with both men. He described Shipenko as a trusted colleague and friend, someone who earns respect through hard work and bold choices. At the same time, he conveyed profound respect for Nikita Mikhalkov, acknowledging the veteran director’s influence and the lessons that come from working with someone who has shaped international cinema for decades.
Recently, fans learned that Bikovich has been cast in the upcoming season of the television series White Lotus. This development adds another chapter to a career characterized by collaboration with a range of filmmakers who bring distinct visions to life on screen. The statements Bikovich shared reflect a broader truth about modern filmmaking: directors bring their own histories into the room, and actors must navigate those differences to realize a shared creative goal.
In summing up his experiences, Bikovich suggested that the best collaborations happen when a cast and crew can balance the intensity of a traditional theater approach with the exploratory, detail-rich mindset of contemporary cinema. The blend of old and new techniques, he implied, creates performances that feel both grounded and expansive, resonating with audiences across diverse cultural landscapes. The dialogue around these two directors underscores how personal history, risk tolerance, and disciplined preparation can shape wildly different talking points on set while still producing cohesive, memorable work for the screen.
As the industry continues to evolve, Bikovich’s reflections offer a window into how actors adapt to varied directing styles without losing their own voice. The tension between theater discipline and cinematic experimentation may be real, but so is the potential for fruitful collaboration when mutual respect and curiosity prevail. Whether on a big stage or a sprawling film set, the human element remains central, guiding performances toward authenticity and emotional clarity that linger long after the credits roll.