"The Prophet: The Story of Alexander Pushkin" with Yura Borisov: What you need to know before watching

Contents:

• Plot. I'm not a biopic, I'm different
• Genre. Music brought us together
• Actors. Our everything
• Locations. The beauty of the local swamps
• History. It doesn’t happen!

Plot. I'm not a biopic, I'm different

Although the creators of the film do their best to disavow the word "biopic," "The Prophet" is still a standard biographical film in an unconventional package. The story begins at the Lyceum in Tsarskoye Selo, where the young poet plays pranks, quarrels with teachers and receives the famous blessing of old Derzhavin.

This is followed by life in St. Petersburg and a period of exile in Mikhailovskoye, where the poet wrote "The Fountain of Bakhchisarai" and "Count Nulin"; the Decembrist Uprising, the period of prosperity under the patronage of Nicholas I, marriage, society gossip and, finally, a duel - almost everything like in a textbook, perhaps less detailed, but more playful and colorful.
There is no need to recount all these events here. It is worth noting that the film is even structured like a school reader: the change of periods in Pushkin's biography is highlighted by credits indicating the year and place of action. Pushkin himself changes accordingly, transforming from the young Getz into Yura Borisov: light in soul and body at the beginning and considerably weighed down and saddened by the end. All this would be rather boring if "The Prophet" were a typical biopic. But in Umarov's film, all the characters, including the tsar and the gendarmes, rap and occasionally break into a dance.

Genre. Music Brings Us Together

Producer Petr Anurov, who came up with the idea for the film, was initially inspired by Lin-Manuel Miranda's musical "Hamilton." In the London production he saw, Alexander Hamilton, one of the Founding Fathers of the United States, was played by a black actor, and some of the numbers were written in an R&B style. Anurov decided that this approach would also be suitable for a film about Alexander Pushkin, who had been dubbed "the sun of Russian poetry" and "our everything." The film's unconventional approach as a musical offered a chance to reveal Pushkin as a living person, not a collection of textbook cliches. However, "A Prophet," as it was released, bears no resemblance to the original idea. Its closest genre peers are not "Moulin Rouge!" and "La La Land," but Lars von Trier's "Dancer in the Dark" and the Soviet New Year's film "Magicians." Musical numbers are used here to outline the characters' moods, to encapsulate the events of several years of life or an abstract process within a four-minute track. In the latter case, the technique works particularly well: the number "Divine Verb" successfully portrays Pushkin not only as an "idle reveler" but also as a poet. This addresses the perennial criticism of biographical films about poets and musicians: "Why did they show him sinning again, but not his creativity?"

The music for the film was written by Russian composer Ryan Otter. And some representatives of the modern music industry had a hand in the lyrics: Aigel Gaysina ("AIGEL"), The Hatters, Nadya Gritskevich ("Naadya"), singer Yolka (pop music), Vadik Korolev (OQJAV) and others. Among the performers are the same The Hatters, Naadya and Yura Borisov himself, who played the main role in the film. An album with tracks from the film is available on all platforms. Actors. Our Everything The choice of Yura Borisov, with his absolutely Slavic appearance, for the role of Pushkin was initially perceived rather cautiously. Even Borisov himself, according to the film's producer, wasn't sure about accepting the role: "He was torn and tormented, he kept approaching the role and then retreating from it. It was a long, difficult journey until he finally made his decision." For the public, the idea of ​​making a film about Pushkin with one of Russia's most sought-after actors seemed even more dubious: many still remember the very pretentious and weak 2006 film "Pushkin. The Last Duel" with Sergei Bezrukov.
Today, it can be said that Yura Borisov has proven far more successful than his predecessor on the throne of "Actor of All Rus'." Certainly, his Pushkin is easygoing, cheerful, good-natured, and charming—an idealized portrayal of the poet. But Borisov achieves this ideal effortlessly; there is no falsehood in it. This is not Borisov in a wig, but a truly living person. The makeup and costume designers played a significant role in this transformation, but without Yura’s natural acting ability, their work would have been in vain.

In general, it's worth saying that "The Prophet" isn't the kind of film that relies on outward resemblance to the era and real-life prototypes for its effect. The costumes, while retaining period features, are more reminiscent of carnival costumes. The makeup is minimal, merely highlighting the actors' natural features. As a result, Ilya Lyubimov's Zhukovsky looks more like Alan Rickman's socialite from "Sense and Sensibility" than the real Vasily Andreevich. Natalya Goncharova (Alena Dolgolenko) is a modern girl, not a 19th-century young lady. Benckendorff-Gilev at times resembles a rock star more than the entire Tsarskoye Selo gang put together.
All this does not spoil the film, but, on the contrary, serves the overall goal - to bring Pushkin closer to the modern viewer. To hook with visual beauty and modern rhythms - and drag into the dark pools of memory, where the wood goblin still wanders, the six-winged seraph appears, and the star of captivating happiness rises.
However, given such features of the film, the actors, with the exception of Yura Borisov, have practically nothing to do.
Nevertheless, the roles in "The Prophet" are played very well. Sergei Gilev creates a wonderful "man in a case" - an image that corresponds to the very essence of the limited Benckendorff. Evgeniy Schwartz is excellent as Nicholas I, an unpleasant and contradictory autocrat. The sensual, voluptuous beauty of Anna Chipovskaya (Countess Vorontsova) is striking against the southern landscape. The touching Ilya Vinogorsky, with his very appearance, evokes tenderness for Ivan Pushchin. And Florian Desbiendra's Dantes is so narcissistic that even without textbook spoilers, you know this won't end well.

Locations. The beauty of the local swamps

Filming a film about Pushkin in the former capital of the Russian Empire — what could be easier? You don't even have to spend money on sets: the poet's apartment is at 12 Moika Street, there's a memorial museum-lyceum in Tsarskoye Selo, and the site of the duel on the Black River is marked with a memorial sign. But the apartment had to be built at Lenfilm, the on-screen lyceum is recognizable as Pavlovsk Park, and the duel was filmed in the forests of the Leningrad Region.
All this is due to the specifics of film production. In authentic museum interiors, it's easy to damage exhibits, and it's almost impossible to display all the necessary equipment in a limited space. Besides, authentic objects don't always look good on camera. Nevertheless, Pushkin actually set foot on some locations in The Prophet—and no other film crew did. So, as a result, in the film you can see, albeit briefly, unique historical places that you can’t get to even with a tour - for example, the State Archive of the Navy on Millionnaya.

The role of the Black River is played by a forest near St. Petersburg, as the original site of the duel is overrun with later buildings. The Lyceum landscapes have also changed significantly over the years. Polovtsov's house has been transformed into Princess Golitsyna's salon, and also into the belly of an abandoned ship, where a fortune teller predicts the young poet's fate. The beautiful Palace Stables in Peterhof, the Rose Pavilion in Pavlovsk Park, the Znamenka estate, and the Yusupov and Stroganov palaces are recognizable on the screen. Along the way, you can appreciate the landscapes of the A.S. Pushkin Museum-Reserve "Mikhailovskoye" - and really want to visit there. Of course, all these places have been brought to a glossy shine by computer graphics. Nevertheless, they look very good - unlike the "south of Russia." It stands out from the general picture so much with its almost insane coloring that there is a persistent feeling of hackwork. But surely a lot of effort and care went into filming in these sets - so that the result is something reminiscent of cheap television productions of the early 2000s.

History. This can't happen!

Director Felix Umarov, at a meeting with audiences in St. Petersburg, said that Galina Sedova, the curator of the Pushkin Apartment Museum, said after watching the film: "This is the best thing that happened to Pushkin." Such a high assessment from a literary scholar is understandable: everyone who truly loves wants as much as possible to be known about the object of their love. The approach of the creators of "The Prophet" may well captivate schoolchildren and spark their interest in the restless poet, who in reality was not at all like a bronze block. A wave of hate from supporters of historical accuracy can serve the same purpose: it will raise tons of letters, facts, and books from the bottom.
Can "The Prophet" itself serve as a source of historical information? Yes and no. The script does reflect a number of historical facts, but they are significantly altered. For example, the fortune teller's prediction that Pushkin would be killed by a man with a white head actually occurred and left a profound impression on him. In reality, that man turned out to be the blond Dantes—played by Umarov's dark-haired Florian Desbiendra.

Another historical fact is Pushkin's appointment to the rank of gentleman of the bedchamber at the court of Nicholas I. Here is how Nikolai Smirnov, the husband of Alexandra Rosset, who was a friend of the poet, describes this event:
"Pushkin was made a gentleman of the bedchamber; this infuriated him, for this title was certainly indecent for a man of thirty-four, and it offended him even more because some said that it was given in order to have a reason to invite his wife to court. Moreover, a vile lampoon was published on this occasion, in which they spoke of a change in Pushkin's feelings; "as if he had become ingratiating, cowardly, and he, who valued his fame, was afraid that this opinion would be accepted by the public and deprive him of his nationality. In a word, he was upset and furious and decided not to use his uniform to go to court, not even to sew a uniform."
In reality, Pushkin, although furious, resigned himself to his court position: his friends convinced him that this was not an insult, but recognition of the poet's merits by the sovereign himself. Of course, we do not see this in the film. But Pushkin's rage was embodied in a separate musical number, meaning that the historical truth is respected, albeit partially.
At the same time, for example, the film omits the period of the Boldino autumn, Ivan Pushchin alone leads the Decembrists in an attack on the autocracy, and Konstantin Danzas, historically simply Pushkin's classmate and second, suddenly becomes his closest friend. In reality, they had not seen each other since graduating from high school.
This is only a small part of the plot's "crimes against truth." But looking for a complete correspondence to life in "The Prophet," as in any work of fiction, is a thankless and unnecessary task. The film's goal is to awaken "good feelings" and interest in living people who unwittingly became victims of the school curriculum and were ossified in it to the point of losing their individuality. The "Prophet" seems to succeed in this. As director Umarov said at the same meeting, “we wanted the audience to be interested in Pushkin, and then whatever happens, happens.”