– What drew you to the concept behind the series Cat?
The appeal lay with the character of the hero, Oleg Turov. The circumstances surrounding him offered a uniquely rich channel for an actor to embody. A man who grapples with a stone—his philosophy shaped by it—presented a fresh energy to inhabit on screen, something not yet explored in his previous work, and the script promised an equally intriguing transformation.
– How would you describe the idea of a “stone philosophy”?
There was a clear aim to craft a formidable, reliable figure—a defender, a steadfast supporter in every sense, a man of his word and of solid, unwavering principles. Yet the challenge was to reveal what lies beneath that exterior when such a person is tested. It seems that beneath the stone there beats a heart that is delicate and capable of love.
— If possible, which moments in the script captured your interest the most?
Two elements stand out. Turov’s mother, whom he deeply respects and loves, is battling Alzheimer’s, a matter that adds emotional depth. The second is that Turov has a brother who truly completes him, and they built a business together. He gives himself completely to these two, his brother and his mother. That commitment is the core reason for taking on the project. The director Karen Hovhannisyan granted the freedom to explore and breathe life into the character, letting many choices find their place beyond the written pages.
What did you add to this character?
First, the idea that he is of a different nationality shaped the look and the energy of Turov—the bald head, the beard, the physical presence. I felt a strong, powerful silhouette. We made slight adjustments to scenes and dialogue, and Karen offered bold, fresh solutions. The collaboration felt almost freestyle, yet carefully crafted, with a sense that every choice was purposeful rather than impulsive.
– Which collaborators did you interact with most on the Cat set? How would you describe that experience?
The experience was excellent with everyone involved. Interestingly, the cat’s own storyline remains parallel; the lead actress Anastasia Todorescu plays a separate thread that does not directly intersect with the main arc.
– In social media, you mentioned a friendship with a colleague from the series Live Life, Roman Vasiliev. How did that friendship begin, and what do you value in him?
Friendship grew from a shared temperament and the simple immediacy of being on set together. It’s precious to work with someone who truly hears you. The bond developed naturally, and there was a mutual aspiration to explore creative collaborations in the future.
– How does one withdraw from psychologically demanding roles and return to ordinary life? Are there moments when a difficult character lingers and a method like psychotherapy is considered?
The exit from a role is often the more fascinating moment, and it varies with each project. There’s a sense of a plan to step away, though it doesn’t always translate across productions. It’s a flexible process. Recently, a move to the forest for two weeks helped reset the atmosphere created by a character. Sometimes slipping into another role can drain old energy, while other times the shift requires finding a way out of the lived-in mood. At present, work on a remarkable project by Ilya Khotinenko and Svyatoslav Sagunova with actress Angelina Zagrebina is shaping an ambiguous atmosphere for the couple, and it remains to be seen how to exit that mood once filming ends.
– After which role did you retreat to the forest for two weeks?
It happened after the series In the Cage, a character that burned bright and left a strong impression. The effect endures as a memory and as part of the emotional makeup that accompanies many roles, rather than as a constant presence, yet it continues to inform the craft.
– Do you use immersion in a character and interaction with unfamiliar people through that lens to ease into a role?
That approach is the primary method I rely on. It prepares me and keeps the process grounded.
– Recently, director Ilya Aksenov suggested that the ability to lie and manipulate can be an underestimated skill for an actor. He argued these talents help avoid external manipulation. Do you possess such skills, and have you faced attempts to manipulate you—how did you respond?
No, manipulation is not part of my repertoire. I prefer a healthy, self-contained mode of interaction with the world. It’s easy to spot attempts to steer me in a direction that feels unsafe, and I simply step back. I set clear boundaries and choose not to engage with individuals who pose a risk. This is a form of psychological hygiene that has reduced such encounters over time.
– There was significant media attention around a quote suggesting you are an abuser in a relationship because of insecurity. Was it difficult to handle this publicly, and what does that recognition mean to you?
It wasn’t difficult. The message rings true for many people and serves as a candid reminder that such patterns exist. Public discussion can illuminate these issues, helping others recognize they are not alone and that many relationships are not permanent. The honest exposure can be a valuable, clarifying signal for society.
– Participation in Live Life left you psychologically energized? What new insights did you gain from that project?
The show didn’t drain me; it produced a strong, positive energy and, above all, a meaningful friendship. The experience was intense but rewarding. It also spurred a deeper study of the character Vladislav, a manipulator, drawing on parallel literature to uncover the keys of this portrayal in cinema. Everyone involved shared a unified vision, which amplified the creative flow.
– Earlier you mentioned you were not drawn to Hollywood, but to European cinema. What drew you to Europe, and where does that preference come from?
European cinema spoke to me through aesthetics closer to art house traditions. My path began with the French project Eastern Boys and continued with Out of Love from the Netherlands, both intimate, chamber-like films that resonated with my sensibilities. That doesn’t mean I dismiss Hollywood; it remains a realm of incredible power and masterpieces, but Europe offered a linguistic and artistic space that felt instinctively right at the time.
— Do you work outside your country, or have recent events affected opportunities abroad?
There have been no overseas engagements in the past year. All projects are here, and that is a deliberate choice.
– Your directorial debut was the short film Prayer. Why is there no ongoing directing work?
Because it carries a mystic quality that nudges at deeper layers, rather than simply following a routine path.
– Do you have a personal wish or dream for future projects?
Yes, there are several ideas that demand total immersion, and the timing has not aligned yet due to a busy schedule. There is a sense that the right moment will arrive to bring those visions to life.
– You mentioned writing prose and poetry. Are you still creating, and do you plan to publish your work?
Writing remains a persistent thread, offering a poetic lens on everyday reality. It feeds ideas for films and life alike. A poetry collection and the Sitter project, where poems and prose are filmed, are in progress. Three new video-art pieces and poetic passages are on the horizon, and there is real anticipation for their release.