Animator and director Harry Bardin criticized the remake of the cartoon The Flying Ship, calling it crude and asserting that he was not consulted by the creators of the reboot. His remarks, reported by HABER.ru, underscored a sense of being blindsided by a project that retells a story he once helped bring to life. Bardin’s stance reflects a broader tension that often accompanies retellings of beloved films, where fans and original artists weigh in on the balance between homage and independent interpretation. He stressed that he felt a protective instinct toward the original work and that, in his view, the remake did not honor the spirit of the early production. Bardin’s public reaction appears to be rooted in a belief that the process lacked transparency and collaboration, and he suggested that such omissions can undermine the creative trust between artists and producers. It is not merely a clash of opinions; it highlights a pivotal question about authorship and ownership in motion pictures that borrow from established folklore and earlier animation.
“I have a reserved and skeptical attitude toward remakes that draw from my own films, especially when I am kept in the dark about developments until after the work hits the screen,” Bardin stated. “Therefore, I refuse to silently accept what feels like disrespectful treatment. This does not concern me merely as a viewer; I learned about it only when it appeared on my radar, and I recognize the emotional weight of seeing a project linked to a name I associate with a legacy.” He made clear that his reaction is not a matter of personal grievance but a principled stance about governance in creative collaborations. The filmmaker explained that he cannot approve a process that proceeds without inclusive dialogue, and he indicated that he would prefer to see a more thoughtful, dialogue-driven approach to licensing, adaptation, and tribute. Bardin’s comments suggest that, for him, the integrity of a legacy project depends on open communication, proper credit, and a shared sense of responsibility toward audiences who remember the original. He reiterated that the matter reached public attention only after the film’s appearance, leaving him with mixed feelings about how such remakes are stewarded.
The original cartoon The Flying Ship was crafted in 1979 under the creative leadership of Harry Bardeen, with a script penned by playwright Alexei Simukov, drawing inspiration from the classic Russian folk tale bearing the same title. The animation’s musical backbone was shaped by Maxim Dunaevsky, whose score helped set the tone for the film’s adventurous atmosphere. The voice cast, featuring actors like Mikhail Boyarsky, Anatoly Papanov, and Tatyana Shabelnikova, gave life to the characters through dubbing that became part of the animation’s lasting charm. Over the years, the project has been remembered for its distinctive blend of folklore, music, and character-driven moments that resonated with audiences across generations. The credits point to a collaborative effort that blended storytelling, song, and visual artistry in a way that reflected a specific era of animation and cultural storytelling, leaving a mark on viewers who encountered it in theaters, on television, or through home entertainment channels. The legacy speaks to a moment when animation embraced folk narratives with a fresh, theatrical sensibility that made the tale endure beyond its original release.
In February, producers overseeing a new interpretation of The Flying Ship, under the project titled Ilya Uchitel’s Flying Ship, announced a shift in the release timeline. The decision came with a plan to replace three actors who had publicly criticized the project’s direction, a move that sparked discussion about governance, accountability, and creative autonomy in contemporary film production. The remake had been scheduled for a March release, and the postponement signaled an ongoing negotiation between artistic vision and logistical realities. Observers noted that changing cast members in response to public commentary is not unusual in the industry, though it inevitably raises questions about consistency of tone, audience expectations, and the management of star power in a reboot. The producers emphasized that these changes were made in the interest of delivering a cohesive final product and preserving the project’s intended pacing and character dynamics for viewers who are curious about a new interpretation while honoring the source material. The shift reminded industry watchers that modern remakes operate within a complex ecosystem where timing, cast alignment, and creative leadership all influence the ultimate reception of a reimagined classic.
Previously acknowledged remarks from industry insiders and observers indicated that a fresh film chronicling the adventures of Petrov and Vasechkin was also in development within Russia. This newer project, separate from the Flying Ship reboot, signals a broader trend of exploring the same folk-rooted world through different creative lenses. The potential for parallel storytelling—where one project revisits familiar narratives while another ventures into new angles—illustrates the dynamic range of contemporary adaptation strategies. It also highlights the ongoing appeal of Russian folklore in contemporary cinema, where filmmakers seek to reinterpret old stories with modern sensibilities and production techniques. The conversation surrounding these efforts reflects a broader cultural interest in preserving heritage while encouraging innovative storytelling that resonates with today’s audiences. As audiences await further updates, the industry keeps a watchful eye on how these projects balance respect for tradition with the appetite for fresh, contemporary interpretation.