The Last Moskal
Mikhail Sokolovsky, Editor-in-Chief at leading Russian channel Rossiya 1 and writer of numerous hit series, shares his thoughts on 1+1’s The Last Moskal. This spring the comedy series became the most watched local production in the last five years.
The comedy series The Last Moskal (Останнiй москаль), which aired on the Ukrainian channel 1+1, is an unusual, unexpected and risky product. It took a lot of courage to talk with humor about the relationships of two peoples, which seem to be reckoned beyond redemption; and just the attempt to do so deserves admiration.
The plot is very simple. The protagonist, young spoilt ‘moskal’ Valera, is forced to hide in a Hutsul village, in the house of his uncle Ivan. The latter is hostile towards his brother, and also to his nephew. Here, Valera will find a new family, friends and, of course, love. The story of his transformation from a pretentious metropolitan guy to a ‘normal person’, by realizing that anyone is worthy of attention, respect, and love, regardless of where they come from, comprises Valera’s journey throughout the 16 episodes of the series. The production enjoyed high ratings, and I think that the audience responded so quickly because the story cuts deeply into the decayed relationship between the two countries; it ripped up the fresh wounds of the painful ‘separation’ of the Ukrainian and Russian people who are related by their common history, family ties and akin languages that let people understand each other without the help of a translator.
The characters fearlessly pronounce such words as ‘moskal’ (derogatory term for Muscovites) and ‘khokhol’ (derogatory term for Ukrainians), which in any other circumstances are perceived as offensive. But it was not like this in the series and I could not help but feel that the authors were laughing at themselves; and self-irony is the best type of humor. I would like to particularly note the character of Kseniya (portrayed by Galina Bezruk). Not only is she a very beautiful young woman who plays a proud Hutsul; it is also fascinating how she switches between Russian and Ukrainian so easily, highlighting the fact that the language problem is made up and quite solvable. The viewer forgives the evident weaknesses of the series because the authors address serious and acute issues and do so in such an easy way. And there are some weaknesses, of course.
First, I did not fully understand the genre of the series. What is it? A sitcom? A lyrical comedy? A dramedy? I watched the first two and the last episode of the first season and could not understand that. Sometimes the characters try to act funny, while the familiar laugh track is missing. Other characters are excessively serious and play real drama: for example, Uncle Ivan. There are lyrical scenes which are worthy of real melodrama; and sometimes the entire village starts chasing after the protagonist, reminding the scenes from The Benny Hill Show. Such multi-genre composition requires very solicitous attitude towards the material; otherwise, the viewer gets thrown off the course not understanding the ongoing events, which unfortunately happens here often. I think the problem is that the same characters are involved in scenes of various genres. For example, Golova Mikityuk (the head of the village) – is not just a comical character but a ‘wiseman’ as well. The ‘wisdoms’ he speaks, however, lose their power when we see him participate in the chase of Valera and the exaggerated acts of fainting and rolling his eyes. Thus, the poly-genresness of the product does not work out, and the steady flow of perception is lost.
Second, the authors are demonstrating changing levels of humor. Sometimes we see an unbelievable story on how Shtefan fed the neighbor’s pigs with fat burner so they could not compete against his pigs. Another time we observe the same character demonstratively take out a new bottle of gorilka from under the table to substitute for the one that his ill-tempered wife took away. The jokes about men’s excessive drinking and women’s everlasting grumble about that are predictable and not funny anymore. And yet, since drinking and grumbling remain a part of our lives, the authors should come up with a way to talk about these issues from a new angle. After all, they can joke about Maidan and lustrations which looks surprising and fresh.
Third, based on the conventions of the genre, the viewer expects that Valera will meet his love in the first episode. But this happens in the second one and already looks unnecessary since it comes too late. The love line seems to be just a background, which is a pity. I think the writers should have made Valera meet Kseniya earlier, instead of the endless waiting at Bodi’s table.
Fourth, I have to note a certain screenplay negligence when, for example, Bogdan’s wife did not let him drink with his friends at first, and in the next sequence we see her drinking next to them. Maybe, the explanation of Marichka’s change in behavior got lost during montage but such obvious inconsistencies bother the audience and do not allow to believe in the authenticity of the events, which may cause loss of interest.
Still, I will repeat again, this is just nit-picking compared to this by all means successful attempt to talk about the current, serious and painful matters with this kind of good humor and without pathos. By ridiculing the provinciality of the villagers, as well as the ‘pampered’ people from the capital, we are looking at ourselves and the people around us, seeing the funny and awkward within us, but also the touching and dignified.
The main merit of The Last Moskal is the fact that in the end, the audience falls in love with both, the Hutsuls and spoilt Valera. The latter, however, had to give up his metropolitan personality, while the villagers had to stop hating all moskals indiscriminately. The characters of the series achieved what other people from both sides of the border dream of. I think much of the great success of the project is due to the fact that it shows how to get back to the normal, peaceful, and friendly life. ▪
The plot is very simple. The protagonist, young spoilt ‘moskal’ Valera, is forced to hide in a Hutsul village, in the house of his uncle Ivan. The latter is hostile towards his brother, and also to his nephew. Here, Valera will find a new family, friends and, of course, love. The story of his transformation from a pretentious metropolitan guy to a ‘normal person’, by realizing that anyone is worthy of attention, respect, and love, regardless of where they come from, comprises Valera’s journey throughout the 16 episodes of the series. The production enjoyed high ratings, and I think that the audience responded so quickly because the story cuts deeply into the decayed relationship between the two countries; it ripped up the fresh wounds of the painful ‘separation’ of the Ukrainian and Russian people who are related by their common history, family ties and akin languages that let people understand each other without the help of a translator.
The characters fearlessly pronounce such words as ‘moskal’ (derogatory term for Muscovites) and ‘khokhol’ (derogatory term for Ukrainians), which in any other circumstances are perceived as offensive. But it was not like this in the series and I could not help but feel that the authors were laughing at themselves; and self-irony is the best type of humor. I would like to particularly note the character of Kseniya (portrayed by Galina Bezruk). Not only is she a very beautiful young woman who plays a proud Hutsul; it is also fascinating how she switches between Russian and Ukrainian so easily, highlighting the fact that the language problem is made up and quite solvable. The viewer forgives the evident weaknesses of the series because the authors address serious and acute issues and do so in such an easy way. And there are some weaknesses, of course.
First, I did not fully understand the genre of the series. What is it? A sitcom? A lyrical comedy? A dramedy? I watched the first two and the last episode of the first season and could not understand that. Sometimes the characters try to act funny, while the familiar laugh track is missing. Other characters are excessively serious and play real drama: for example, Uncle Ivan. There are lyrical scenes which are worthy of real melodrama; and sometimes the entire village starts chasing after the protagonist, reminding the scenes from The Benny Hill Show. Such multi-genre composition requires very solicitous attitude towards the material; otherwise, the viewer gets thrown off the course not understanding the ongoing events, which unfortunately happens here often. I think the problem is that the same characters are involved in scenes of various genres. For example, Golova Mikityuk (the head of the village) – is not just a comical character but a ‘wiseman’ as well. The ‘wisdoms’ he speaks, however, lose their power when we see him participate in the chase of Valera and the exaggerated acts of fainting and rolling his eyes. Thus, the poly-genresness of the product does not work out, and the steady flow of perception is lost.
Second, the authors are demonstrating changing levels of humor. Sometimes we see an unbelievable story on how Shtefan fed the neighbor’s pigs with fat burner so they could not compete against his pigs. Another time we observe the same character demonstratively take out a new bottle of gorilka from under the table to substitute for the one that his ill-tempered wife took away. The jokes about men’s excessive drinking and women’s everlasting grumble about that are predictable and not funny anymore. And yet, since drinking and grumbling remain a part of our lives, the authors should come up with a way to talk about these issues from a new angle. After all, they can joke about Maidan and lustrations which looks surprising and fresh.
Third, based on the conventions of the genre, the viewer expects that Valera will meet his love in the first episode. But this happens in the second one and already looks unnecessary since it comes too late. The love line seems to be just a background, which is a pity. I think the writers should have made Valera meet Kseniya earlier, instead of the endless waiting at Bodi’s table.
Fourth, I have to note a certain screenplay negligence when, for example, Bogdan’s wife did not let him drink with his friends at first, and in the next sequence we see her drinking next to them. Maybe, the explanation of Marichka’s change in behavior got lost during montage but such obvious inconsistencies bother the audience and do not allow to believe in the authenticity of the events, which may cause loss of interest.
Still, I will repeat again, this is just nit-picking compared to this by all means successful attempt to talk about the current, serious and painful matters with this kind of good humor and without pathos. By ridiculing the provinciality of the villagers, as well as the ‘pampered’ people from the capital, we are looking at ourselves and the people around us, seeing the funny and awkward within us, but also the touching and dignified.
The main merit of The Last Moskal is the fact that in the end, the audience falls in love with both, the Hutsuls and spoilt Valera. The latter, however, had to give up his metropolitan personality, while the villagers had to stop hating all moskals indiscriminately. The characters of the series achieved what other people from both sides of the border dream of. I think much of the great success of the project is due to the fact that it shows how to get back to the normal, peaceful, and friendly life. ▪
