In a candid interview with aif.ru, Svetlana Nemolyaeva reflected on the personal emotions that surfaced during the filming of the decades-old project Once More About Love, revealing how her husband, Alexander Lazarev, felt a distinctive mix of jealousy toward his co-star, Tatyana Doronina. Nemolyaeva’s memories paint a vivid picture of a married life spanning half a century, where the boundary between professional collaboration and intimate life could blur in surprising ways for the actors involved.
Nemolyaeva recalled the moment with honesty and nuance: it upset her to witness Sashka, as Lazarev is affectionately known, embracing and kissing Doronina on screen. She described the feeling as deeply personal and understandable, noting that each woman likely experienced jealousy in her own unique way. The couple’s lifespan together—fifty years—gave the actress a long view on the pressures and emotions that come with shared work and public success. The film arrived at a pivotal moment for the family, a time when their son Shurik, born in 1967, was still a young child, shaping how the household navigated fame, romance, and professional demands. Lazarev’s own admission—yes, he was jealous—offers a rare glimpse into the real emotional undercurrents behind a celebrated on-screen romance.
As years passed, Lazarev has been able to view the film with a more objective perspective, allowing him to separate memory from analysis. This evolving stance underscores a common arc in acting careers, where initial, personal responses mellow into measured appreciation. In describing the movie, Lazarev noted its cinematic lineage, saying it carried the sensibilities of French and Italian cinema. He praised the subtle, elegant, and modern performances, suggesting that the actors elevated the material with a level of craft that resonated across generations. The sentiment expressed—that Lazarev felt he could have stood on par with Western actors in terms of technique—speaks to the aspirational quality he attributed to the performances, a point he shared as a point of pride and professional validation.
Nemolyaeva later added that she shared the stage with Doronina in the production of a challenging piece, remarking on the complexity of Doronina as a partner. The collaboration in theaters is described with candor, highlighting the tension and camaraderie that often coexists on the same stage. This particular connection, forged through shared stage time in demanding roles, illustrates how creative partnerships can be both demanding and deeply rewarding for actors who are committed to their craft.
Among the highlights of Nemolyaeva’s expansive career is her performance in The Man of La Mancha, where she played Dulcinea, while she herself took a smaller role as Don Quixote’s niece. The dynamic within that production was intense and exacting, with the pair investing significant effort to realize their characters and the world they inhabited. Nemolyaeva recalls that the experience required persistent, careful work; the shared intensity of the process sometimes felt unreciprocated by Lazarev, a memory he still carries with him. The onstage chemistry, the late hours, and the high demands created a working atmosphere where mutual recognition of each other’s talents mattered as much as the audience’s reaction.
In another notable turn, Nemolyaeva mentioned a moment that drew public attention outside the theater. The incident involved comedian Maxim Galkin, who found himself labeled a foreign agent in Russia after performing a song in Ukrainian during a show in Poland. Nemolyaeva described the reaction as shocking and jarring, emphasizing the cultural and political tensions that can seep into the arts. The anecdote underscores how performers, even when focused on entertainment, can become entwined in larger conversations about national identity and artistic expression.
Lastly, Nemolyaeva touched on Vovan, formerly part of Real Boys, discussing insights related to the latest season of that series. The reflections provide a broader sense of the actors’ ongoing engagement with contemporary projects and how their past experiences inform their present-day choices. Across the narrative, what emerges is a portrait of two highly disciplined actors balancing the demands of public life, personal attachments, and a career that has spanned many decades. The recollections reveal not only a wealth of professional milestones but also a human story—one of jealousy, admiration, resilience, and a steadfast commitment to the art of acting. Source notes indicate these details stem from interviews and contemporary reporting on Nemolyaeva and Lazarev’s experiences in film and theater (Source: aif.ru).