Two months ahead of the rabies release, director Dmitry Dyachenko unleashed the blockbuster Cheburashka. Were you among the viewers yet?
Not yet, came the reply.
Dyachenko has a track record of comedy and family films, including What Men Talk, Son Bogatyr, and another Cheburashka. Then came a shift toward a tougher genre. What drew you to participate in a project of this new tone for the director, and what about him appealed to you personally?
So far, the respondent had only seen The Last Hero among Dyachenko’s works and admired it. With knowledge of the cast, the decision to shoot felt immediate, though the surname Dyachenko was not familiar at that time.
For director Alexander Khant, the feature How Vitka Chesnok Took Lekha Shtyr to the Nursing Home marked a debut that surprised with its quality. Was there a sense early on that the project would begin to unfold into something significant? The usual stance appeared simple: there are projects he would not accept if he could not believe in their outcomes.
When asked about the portrayal in Rabies, the actor described a district police officer who travels to investigate a fatal attack by a rabid wolf and then becomes entangled in the escalating clash between humans and wild predators.
The plot draws on events in the Amur region where residents died from wolf attacks carrying rabies. Was there interaction with real wolves on set? The answer was clear: there was no intervention, not even a wish to intervene.
A reminiscence of the Altai trip followed, where the scenery was described as majestic and wise. The region left a lasting impression and a desire to return.
This collaboration marks a third in a row with Alexei Serebryakov after How Vitka Chesnok Took Lekha Shtyr to the Nursing Home and Van Goghs. The two share a strong working relationship and social ties beyond the screen. Another project, Unit of Montevideo directed by Tatiana Lyutaeva, joins their list of collaborations.
In March, Kinopoisk will premiere a series titled The King and the Jester, featuring the actor. Details about the character are kept under wraps, prompting questions about a possible resemblance to Andrey Knyazev. The response was nuanced: there is no direct similarity, and the character remains extremely complex, with editors sometimes cutting more than intended.
Russian cinema often explores authentic life in the country, touching on poverty, alcohol, and despair. Though these topics carry melancholy, they retain a compelling hold on audiences. The narrator attributes this resonance to the country’s character.
The discussion then shifted to the manager and the wife Marta, examining professional dynamics and what qualities are valued in representation. Earlier experiences with agents who leaned toward production raised questions about what genuine representation should look like. Autonomy helped the actor find a steadier path, and the balance between personal and professional interests became clearer.
In 2016, the equestrian drama theater VelesO opened in Russia, showcasing horse performers who perform without weapons. The approach emphasizes harmony and a natural bond with the animals, built on well-crafted content and respectful handling.
There were moments when a horse might refuse a task on stage. Such incidents reveal the theater’s reality: horses reveal their character in performance, and predicting behavior remains a challenge. The approach in other humane theaters, like the French Zingaro, aligns with treating horses with love.
The interviewer then asked about the interests of his daughters and whether they might pursue artistic paths. The youngest daughter participates in dance and piano, while none of the girls currently considers following the same career. The parent expressed happiness with this natural stance.