Online platforms are increasingly crowding out traditional television and cinema releases. The original series, produced on demand, offered greater freedom in selecting the subject, plot, and protagonist than typical TV movies, appealing to audiences outside conventional television. The young, active viewers particularly enjoyed the unpolished films created by Russian filmmakers, such as House Arrest, Storm, Psycho, Epidemic, Chiki, Kept Women, Vampires of the Middle Band, and others. Nostalgia will likely accompany these titles for years to come.
In essence, new screenwriters, directors, and actors began to emerge in their work. TV series in this refreshed format are not soap operas; they resemble novels, delivering an engaging story across 6 to 8 episodes. The performers evolved too, bringing subtlety and naturalism to their roles. Directors moved away from large, conventional crews, seeking distinctive personal styles. Overall, the genre frameworks for this cinema type gained ambition from the author’s voice. Yet production concerns remained: platforms must supply vast volumes of fresh content, and investor priorities push for broader audiences.
Igor Mishin, head of KION online cinema, forecasted these shifts. This platform appeared later than many, yet it became a pioneer in announcing the trend. Platforms striving to grow their reach found themselves returning to the television format that had initially propelled them. It became clear that TV series broadcast on federal channels and online platforms were in high demand. For instance, polls on Kinoteatr.ru and Kino Mail.ru crowned the traditional spy-detective Artist, produced by Premier, as the top series of 2022. The same KION later released a sequel to the well-known TV series Pregnancy Test. Critics often disagreed with audience appetite, but mass appeal proved stronger than expert rankings. The series Ranevskaya, produced with patterns similar to Mayakovsky, Yesenin, Magomaev and other biographies, launched online this week and is set to air on Channel One soon after. This alignment between a recognized heroine, a charismatic performer, and a biography-driven narrative promises to boost its success.
Following classic recipes does not guarantee fame for a cook, but regular skills ensure a decent meal. The author’s kitchen, however, involves risk—new flavors and combinations can be off-putting. Yet such risk is justified by the potential for discovery.
The early years of platforms involved testing and risk-taking. Now, prudence seems prudent. The author’s recipes start to adapt to broad tastes even at the pre-production stage. Stay here, go there faster.
Alongside Ranevskaya, another ambitious, unannounced series is being screened—The God Complex—projected for different audiences. This project aims high, with a more intricate script and a detective narrative flavored with psychoanalytic elements. The director, a rising talent, is Fluza Farkhshatova, known for What Men Talk About: The Sequel. Cinematographer Elena Ivanova crafts a strong visual mood. Renowned screenwriter Alena Zvantsova has a reputation as a lyric writer with a solid training ground. Zvantsova notes that the craft was taught: television series operate under fixed rules. The hero must belong to a specific society, have foundational traits, and carry inner conflict. The conflicts are well-structured in the new series, with each main and even secondary character holding something to grumble about. The female roles are not flawless, though they form a backdrop for a male-centered storyline. Yet the series has faced mixed critical reception after early episodes.
The core issue here is familiar to many creators: in pursuit of originality, some writers push beyond the genre’s boundaries into personal expression, while producers keep the project aligned with audience appeal. The blend results in a cocktail that seems too light for educated viewers and too bitter for a broad audience.
The central character in The God Complex is a psychiatrist working in a thriving private clinic. He is portrayed as highly capable by Kirill Kyaro, a well-known actor who conveys a calm, sincere presence. A patient arrives who is powerful, intriguing, and affluent. Early friction gives way to professional collaboration. Daniil Strakhov plays the wealthy patient, balancing tragedy with charm. The psychiatrist’s attempts to apply his skill conflict with the patient’s provocations. The third pillar in this male-centered narrative is a gifted pianist, voiced by Shamil Khamatov. A tragedy unfolds when the pianist’s daughter disappears at a moment of familial turmoil. The setup clearly signals that the action will pivot around the missing child and a clinic where the psychiatrist confronts a morally ambiguous mind.
What confuses some viewers is that the plot does not mirror ordinary reality. This is entertainment, not a documentary. A detective cannot be expected to be entirely believable. Yet great detective fiction often hinges on improbable premises paired with empathy, humanity, and a clear moral division. The audience seeks not just clever twists but a sense that good will ultimately stand out, even if the plot’s path is complicated. The enduring appeal of classic detectives remains strong because readers and viewers relish the tension between right and wrong, and the confidence that virtue exists somewhere beyond the surface of events.
All the detectives of Agatha Christie are exceptional, and murder is staged in inviting countryside settings that invite readers to linger. Conan Doyle’s London also sparkles with alluring originals, vivid companions, and a faithful Dr. Watson. Viewers can still recall their favorite investigators.
In The God Complex, many characters demonstrate unlikable traits and a lack of sympathy. Even the promising young partner in the early scenes earns little warmth from some viewers who describe her as irritable and provocative. The city setting is intentionally bleak and sterile, rendered in a stylized neo-noir without recognizable charm. This makes the world feel unfamiliar and unfriendly, shaping a mood that keeps audiences at a distance.
A notable absence of kindness and openness can be traced through the latest projects, as if mercy had become a luxury to be avoided by those crafting luxury entertainment. The shift toward morally flawed figures reflects a reaction to overly sugary optimism and starkly negative portrayals in earlier genres.
Yet the industry still remembers beloved doctor figures. The archetype of a good, savvy doctor, who often breaks rules to save lives, persists in popular shows. The balance between good and evil remains fragile, with audiences hoping for a sense of justice even when reality is messy. The romantic notion of a happy ending persists, though it may feel secondary to the tension and spectacle driving modern streaming narratives.
As the creators imagine, each hero in The God Complex, initially referred to as Exorcist, endures his own private demon. Those inner demons threaten family, patients, and colleagues, suggesting a world where misfortune is not rare but expected. The writers show how fragile trust becomes when crime, misfortune, and malice are not extraordinary events but rather a normalized part of daily life. The result is a dramatic landscape where viewers grapple with discomfort yet remain drawn to the characters’ struggle and resilience.
The conversation among writers also reveals a belief that while blockbuster numbers attract attention, they may not always translate into artistic value. Envy and the desire to punish the successful can drive audiences, but many argue that authentic connection with characters remains essential. The enduring payoff hinges on audiences’ willingness to empathize with the people on screen, not merely to enjoy sensational drama.
The author’s perspective is personal and may diverge from editorial positions, but it reflects a broader debate about what modern television can and should be. In the end, the most compelling storytelling combines originality with emotional clarity, even as it challenges conventional expectations and invites viewers to question what they value in entertainment.