In a candid interview featured on Caravan of Stories, actor Maxim Averin reflects on what makes the television series Sklifosovsky resonate with viewers. He identifies dialogue with the audience as a central ingredient of its enduring appeal, a simple yet powerful technique that pulls the narrative closer to real life and creates a sense of shared experience between screen and sofa.
Expanding on his approach, Averin explains that he deliberately introduced elements designed to invite audience participation. Poems, personal monologues, and reflective asides were woven into the fabric of the show, elements that had not previously existed within the series. He notes that he did not limit himself to canonical poetry by celebrated poets; he read a broader spectrum, including his own verses, and the monologues that close each season are, in fact, his own creation. The director supported this intimate format, giving Averin space to write and perform these end-of-season reflections, which ultimately shaped how the audience understood the character and his inner world.
When discussing the narrative arc, Averin, together with director Yulia Krasnova and the heroine Dr. Bragin, describes a process where plot development is deeply informed by the character’s inner resilience. The actor believes that the character’s ability to weather an array of crises is closely tied to the actor’s personal endurance. It is not merely the script that carries the story forward; the actor’s lived experiences contribute a layer of authenticity that translates to the screen. Through this synergy, the series captures a sense of survival that feels earned rather than manufactured, allowing viewers to connect on an emotional level with the trials faced by the characters.
Fans can sense a parallel between the actor’s life and the on-screen journey. Averin notes that his character’s persistence mirrors his own temperament and approach to challenging moments off set. The balance between risk and restraint—staying grounded while facing high-stakes scenes—becomes a thread that runs through the performance. The result is a portrayal that feels grounded in reality and capable of withstanding the pressure of dramatic twists, while still leaving room for intimate, almost confessional, moments that invite the audience to witness the character’s vulnerability.
Reflecting on a more personal anecdote from the show’s production, Averin recounts how certain creative decisions shaped the relationship between the performer and the audience. There was a conscious choice to heighten the emotional texture by blending professional craft with spontaneous, instinctive moments. The actor emphasizes that the beauty of the series lies in its ability to transform everyday dialogue into something more meaningful, a conversation that continues beyond the screen. This approach, he suggests, is what gives Sklifosovsky its lasting resonance and invites viewers to return to the series season after season with anticipation rather than routine expectation.