In 1978 the production of a five‑part television film about the Moscow Criminal Investigation Department after the war began in Odessa and Moscow. Stanislav Govorukhin directed the project, which drew on the novel The Age of Mercy by Georgy and Arkady Weiner, published three years earlier and inspired by the saga of the Krasnogorsk gang led by Ivan Mitin.
According to the authors’ memoirs, Vladimir Vysotsky advised filming the novel and was gifted the book; in the script the image of police captain Gleb Zheglov was adjusted to suit the actor’s presence. Mark Tsybulsky discusses this in his book Vladimir Vysotsky and his cinema. Govorukhin, however, offered his own account — he allegedly suggested that Vysotsky read the Weiner work and attempt the role himself.
Even with Vysotsky’s apparent fit, a formal casting took place. Sergei Shakurov, Nikolai Gubenko, Evgeniy Stezhko, Yuri Kuzmenkov, Anatoly Popolzukhin and Leonid Yanovsky tested for parts. Stezhko later recalled that the auditions served more as a display for officials: the message was that the part belonged to Vysotsky, and the competitive procedure was a formality.
Sharapova’s part drew dozens of famous actors, including Alexander Abdulov, Sergei Nikonenko and Stanislav Sadalsky. The director cast Nikolai Gubenko as Sharapova, but later realized that he and Vysotsky shared a common temperament and decided Sharapova needed a stronger contrast. Vladimir Konkin, who had just played Pavka Korchagin, won the role. Critics note that Konkin’s natural warmth and quiet dignity, mixed with a touch of pathos, made the character memorable.
Many believed Konkin would play Sharapova with a style reminiscent of Pavka Korchagin. The Weiner brothers opposed this casting because the novel depicted the hero differently, but they eventually agreed to the change.
Work on the film was closely supervised by the police. The deputy minister Konstantin Nikitin and the chief of the General Staff of the Ministry of Internal Affairs served as the main consultants, with additional input from Vadim Samokhvalov. After reviewing the script, they insisted that thief jargon be removed from police dialogue because it did not reflect real police speech. Vysotsky noted the tension with censorship, describing the process as heavy handed and focused on sanitizing terms.
Govorukhin later recalled Nikitin as an invaluable adviser, though the official died before the film’s release. The director said the project relied on the late Konstantin Ivanovich to guide the changes and ensure authenticity. He added that the advice helped shape important choices during production.
There were also debates about whether Zheglov should wear a police uniform. Vysotsky opposed that request, arguing that in the Stalin era law enforcement sometimes abused power. Despite the disagreement, Vysotsky wore his own police tunic in private moments, joking with Sharapov that his home clothes were like pajamas. Zheglov replied that the real uniform might not suit him at all.
In an early version of the script, a scene where Zheglov shoots Levchenko was followed by Sharapov remarking that he could not continue because he loved to kill. Censors did not permit this line, prompting revisions before filming continued.
The project faced an abrupt challenge when Nikitin died shortly before submission. The acceptance committee did not ban the film, but they did not endorse it either, worried about a depiction that could imply widespread glorification of thieves. Major General Vladimir Illarionov, the first deputy chief of the Main Investigative Department, stepped in to oversee the final stages. Illarionov had maintained close contact with Vysotsky, offering guidance and supplying relevant literature. Some observers suggest that the consultants influenced the sequence featuring the capture of Ruchechnik in the Bolshoi Theater, then under strict security.
After a brief pause the film finally aired on television to coincide with Police Day, with the first episode shown on the First Program on November 11, 1979. Govorukhin later recalled traveling to Sevastopol for the broadcasts, noting that audiences packed living rooms and public events dimmed in comparison. Contemporary accounts claimed that public transport emptied as viewers gathered around TVs, and crime statistics showed a downturn during the broadcasts.
Vysotsky’s son Nikita was in hospital during the premiere. He remembers doctors and patients rushing to the maxillofacial surgery department to catch the broadcast on a single television, with the whole ward gathered around the screen. Nikita recalls the moment as a striking convergence of art and reality that left a lasting impression on those present.
Film critic Alexander Shpagin observed that Gleb Zheglov became a true folk hero: a fair man who operates just a touch outside the law. Vysotsky carried the character with a force that made the role unforgettable for a generation. Despite broad recognition, the film did not win major awards; the creators received certificates of honor from the Ministry of Internal Affairs, while Vysotsky was posthumously awarded the USSR State Prize in 1987.