Director Alexander Sokurov disclosed that his film Fairy Tale was pulled from a screening at the Karo.Art festival in Moscow. In a discussion with socialbites.ca, the People’s Artist of Russia stated that no reasons were offered and he remained unsure about what motives could be behind the decision to withhold the work from audiences.
He said, I heard that the festival canceled the screening without sharing details. It is hard to imagine a festival selling 1,200 tickets and then canceling after the venue has been filled. Obviously, this points to directives from higher authorities or private bodies. Such organizations exist, and they shape what gets shown. It is difficult to speculate on the exact reason for not presenting this film. Fairy Tale is a straightforward, historical narrative without hidden meanings. The imagery is clear, the tone is steady, and the presentation aims to be unambiguous. Nevertheless, no government body issues a public statement. Creators often face pressure, and it is not unusual for provocative interpretations to arise in public discourse about any work of art. Sokurov remarked that many developments in this area resist suppression and often persist despite attempts to block them.
He further expressed outrage over what he described as violations of the rule of law by state institutions. Sokurov emphasized that the Russian Constitution forbids censorship and that art should be accessible to national audiences. He argued that the restrictions on screening a work of art contravene fundamental rights, particularly when the film has already circulated widely across the world and continues to be shown elsewhere.
Festival organizers in Moscow announced that the October 15 screening of Fairy Tale had been canceled. The film unfolds in a hypothetical afterlife setting where iconic figures such as Stalin, Churchill, Hitler, and Mussolini convene and exchange dialogue in multiple languages including Georgian, English, German, and Italian. Sokurov has noted that the visual materials and archival documents, drawn from sources across the United States and Europe, were accumulated over several years to build the film’s historical texture.
Earlier this year, another documentary project featuring Sergei Bezrukov was highlighted as having its premiere in Russia, signaling ongoing interest in documentary and narrative films that tackle sensitive historical themes. This turn of events at Karo.Art underscores the broader tension between artistic expression and institutional control within the cultural landscape, inviting renewed discussion about the boundaries of creative presentation and the responsibilities of cultural gatekeepers. The broader reception to Fairy Tale across international venues demonstrates a persistent appetite for bold, contemplative cinema, even when domestic platforms move to restrict access. Critics and audiences alike may view the episode as part of a larger pattern in which artistic work becomes a focal point for debates over memory, representation, and political power. The incident also raises questions about how festivals balance artistic integrity with logistical and political realities, and how filmmakers navigate environments that may respond differently to provocative material. In this light, Sokurov’s remarks place emphasis on the resilience of art as a vehicle for reflection, even when official channels refrain from comment or action. As the discussion around Fairy Tale continues, observers may look to future screenings and public conversations to gauge the evolving stance of cultural institutions toward works that revisit tumultuous chapters of history and the ethical responsibilities tied to their portrayal.