A grandmother narrator, Irina Rozanova, shares a tale with her grandchildren. They crave something scarier, so the fairy tale blends with the characters’ own world. In the elite village known as Prestige or Miracle City, a nanny is murdered, and the mystery hints that the killer may be close to home. Everyone has secrets to hide, and each resident carries a personal skeleton in the closet. The cast includes desperate housewives, successful lawyers, and even an opera singer, along with their spouses and children. Household staff and new nannies appear, including Filipino workers discreetly taking on roles as caregivers. Elizaveta Egorovna, a seasoned Investigative Committee employee, takes on the difficult job of unmasking the layers of deceit here. The story suggests that a sorceress with remarkable cunning and beauty may be at the heart of the drama, yet someone remains determined to uncover every lie.
Let’s be concise: the Prestige narrative, with its fairy-tale veneer, feels intentionally odd. It invites viewers to imagine the fairy tale through a grandchild’s eyes, but once the director Sergei Sentsov’s name appears, the tone becomes clear. His prior project was the acclaimed Russian comedy noir 1703: Twin Peaks St., a pursuit through shady backstreets of St. Petersburg where a young partner and a sharp-eyed investigator chase thieves among the shadows. Against that backdrop, Prestige seems gentler yet retains its own quirky charm.
The premise aims for a sharp detective story where wealth mingles with danger, channeling the vibe of popular mysteries about powerful families. Think of the atmosphere of acclaimed shows like Big Little Lies and Why Women Kill, while the plot promises twists that go beyond the familiar. The fictional city of Prestige, filmed in Ustria, evokes a sense of uncanny familiarity, with utilities and everyday woes playing as much a role as high society. The Filipino characters appear as a natural extension of local storytelling traditions. The cast also nods to classic portrayals, linking the present drama to a long history of crime and intrigue, while a seasoned actor portrayed a beloved authority figure from decades past.
The overall impression of Prestige is tempered by echoes from recent years that linger like sand through fingers: cryptic hints, familiar archetypes, and a touch of the uncanny. Yet these elements do not spoil the experience; instead, they invite viewers to keep watching. The director weaves in visual nods to modern cinema, including subtle references that might remind attentive viewers of Parasite, inviting comparisons without demanding an explicit homage. The standout performance by Rozanova, bringing a sharp-witted Miss Marple-like character with a distinctive rasp, anchors the early episodes. At this stage, the detective angle may not feel as gripping as in the best of Sentsov’s earlier work, but the potential is evident.
In another light, the series gradually reveals its strengths. Around the one-and-a-half-hour mark, a decision to give Prestige a real chance grows stronger. The mood respects the Splin group’s aesthetic, preserving a St. Petersburg atmosphere that feels correctly grounded: Bach’s music mingles with the surreal imagery that recalls Bosch’s paintings. The opening sequence sweeps the viewer through a dreamlike Garden of Earthly Delights, while a haunting rendition of a classical piece closes the pilot. The premiere introduces Rozanova as the central figure in the Miracle City, suggesting that the show may still surprise audiences. Whether the two hemispheres of storytelling—mystery and character drama—will fully align remains to be seen, but there is a genuine belief that the series, sharing a kinship with a fantastical tale about magicians, has several unexpected turns in store.