The action unfolds in contemporary Rostov-on-Don. The lead, Rav (Kuzma Kotrelev, matured from the Red Bracelets), lives with his mother, juggles several jobs, and dreams of a future in America. At first glance he seems as indolent as his peers: he drifts between apartment parties where they rap, a scene Rostov native Casta has long celebrated, and he meets a girl. There is no real need for romance, only a wish to amass quick cash to fund a trip to the United States.
In the same city, yet in a parallel reality, Rostov houses its own gangsters. They stand in stark contrast to Koka (the magnetic Gela Meskhi) — the hungry “godfather” who wants to command everyone — and his rival Dym (the brilliant Anton Kuznetsov), a twice-imprisoned criminal who longs to pass control to his “student,” Ex (Dmitry Chebotarev). Between them is an employee of the Federal Drug Control Service, Pashaev (Evgeny Kharitonov), deeply indebted to one side and yet humane toward the other.
Within this boiling cauldron of money and men, Rav joins Smoke’s crew and shifts from a dreamer to an apprentice crook who does not yet grasp the true price of fast wealth. He also falls for Koki’s niece, Elya, and, in a nod to Shakespearean tension, a bandit’s world often narrows to those within his own circle.
Kuznetsov’s character is a caring father and devoted husband who counsels Rav: “You must have a beloved woman, for she is your inner warning system, your alarm.” Meanwhile, Smoke, shrewd in outmaneuvering rivals, fails to notice how he himself is playing with fire — his wife betrays him with his best friend.
The cast instantly catches attention with familiar, but not dull faces: Meskhi, Kuznetsov, Maria Mashkova, Dmitry Chebotarev, Kuzma Kotrelev, Maria Matsel, Evgeny Kharitonov, and Fardi Samedov. This is the debut screen credit for RMA alumnus known as Fardi. The ensemble is lively, and each character feels vivid enough to deserve their own arc—yet fate is cruel to all of them in the end.
Rav’s room features a wall-sized wallpaper of the Golden Gate Bridge, underscoring the California dream as a beacon of escape that ironically ensnares him further in the city’s traps.
Overall, the walls in YuZZZ seem to speak. In Coca’s office, a loose reproduction of Paolo Sorrentino’s The Great Beauty hangs, a nod to a line where a monarch in that film admits, “I wanted to be a king. And I became one.” Koka also longs to rule Rostov, to eliminate Smoke, while a clock on his office wall marks the ticking time he fears. A parallel line of ambition runs through the show’s mood—glamour and danger braided tightly together.
That same great beauty line recurs in YuZZZ’s world: the moment when a character realizes time is finite and wasted hours no longer make sense. Duman, twice imprisoned, can walk free yet appears chained by inner prisons of fear and habit.
The second key element is Rostov-on-Don itself. The show’s creators originally planned to shoot in Moscow but opted for Rostov after discovering the city’s texture fits the narrative so naturally. The writers and director, Stas Ivanov, relocated temporarily to the south to capture the speech, slang, and cadence of Rostov—an authenticity the score by Kazi reinforces, delivering music that feels native to the setting even before the script was fully underway.
Visually, Rostov’s neon contrasts—bright reds with cool blues—mirror Ivanov’s world where beauty sits beside ugliness, a Federal Drug Control Service officer mingling with the city’s mob bosses, and early romance colliding with the sober realities of adulthood.
Yet the show falters with its female roles. The women in YuZZZ often appear as trophies rather than autonomous figures, defined by whom they love rather than what they contribute. Polina becomes a possession in the eyes of the male lead, while Rav’s mother is more a backdrop than a character with agency. Lena seems to exist mostly as a moment rather than a person with her own story.
There is potential for deeper female perspectives—women who could drive the plot and add inner scale to YuZZZ’s world—but the current treatment keeps them on the periphery of a predominantly masculine drama. The series ultimately speaks to the difficulty of letting go of the past and stepping into the future, the way habitual patterns can trap a person, and the fragile line between violence and survival. In this harsh milieu, resilience can take the form of courage to confront evil—often a trait women demonstrate most clearly when given the chance to lead.
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The series is available on Premier, with a later broadcast on NTV.