"My movie was first banned, and then suddenly the whole world bought it up"
Russian cinema collects cash after Hollywood leaves, but has not yet learned how to make its characters part of the global fan culture, as is the case with Marvel. Director and producer Janik Fayziev believes that the problem is not the lack of talent — on the contrary, there are more and more of them — but the inability of the country to appreciate and commercialize its own ideas. Janik Fayziev told Izvestia in an exclusive interview at the festival of short and debut films "Shorter" in Kaliningrad, where he joined the jury, whether hundreds of adaptations of "War and Peace" are needed, why AI remains only an "advanced pencil" and how films in the USSR collected a large box office at a penny.
"In fact, no one allowed women to go to the cinema
— A new generation of cinematographers is starting at the Shorter Festival. How do you see the future of our cinema, looking at them?
— The flow of applicants to film schools proves that the industry will be fine in the coming years. Then, of course, a hard comb works — someone throws, someone burns out. Only a few reach the finals and the "Shorter" site.
— Those who didn't stop.
— Most Nobel laureates have received prizes for discoveries made before the age of 25. So you don't have to worry about the future of cinema.
— Is judging on the jury a way for you to support this generation?
— Rather, it is a huge burden of responsibility. I don't like to judge at all. Even at castings, I spend hours talking with actors — I'm afraid to miss someone's talent. Debutants often act blindly, by touch. They need momentum. Being on the jury means having the opportunity to give a person a "magic kick" that can change their fate. And most of all, I'm afraid at this moment not to guess the potential of the author.
The jury of the full-length debuts competition of the festival "Shorter": Yuri Bykov, Victoria Isakova, Anna Melikyan, Sayera Khudaiberdieva, Janik Fayziev
— There is no feeling that we have an overproduction of personnel? There are many graduates, but there is a shortage in the industry, and young directors have to find money for their own debut. How do they deal with this reality of life?
— I used to start the same way myself: I ran around my friends, asked for help, everyone worked for the idea. But the current students have royal conditions. VGIK provides as much technology as we could not even dream of at the beginning of the journey. And the hardware requirements have changed. The smartphone shoots in broadcast quality. Modern optics are so sensitive that you can work without professional light. Put the artist in front of the window and get the perfect side light, like Vermeer's. The main thing is to understand how the frame works, and not complain about the lack of money.
Low-budget movies always run on energy and fiction. I shot my first commercial with the great George Rerberg. His main saying was, "Money pays for brains. Let's think."
— Did Rerberg shoot the commercial? Is it for the money or for the sake of interest?
— It was the timelessness of the 1990s, there was no industry, everyone needed it. We worked together for several years. They filmed chocolates, medicines, and even one of the most expensive commercials of that era, a credit card.
— Did your experience in advertising help you in the future?
— Advertising has taught me how to work with large budgets and large-scale technology. They didn't teach this at VGIK: The industry was just beginning. After two years in advertising, Konstantin Ernst invited me to direct "Old Songs about the Main Thing." I remember the first day of filming. The first frame was shot, and I command, "Stop!" and out of habit I turn back to where an army of brand managers, agency producers, and customer representatives usually sit in the advertisement, ready to make edits. But there was no one behind. But in front of me there were 200 people from the film crew who were just waiting for my final word. I exhaled and realized that I would not return to advertising anymore.
— Cinema has been a purely male business for a long time, women were not allowed there. What has changed now?
— Zoya, I'm a sexist. But you're a woman, and you know that if you want something, no man can stop you. You'll get your way anyway.
— That's for sure!
— In fact, no one "didn't let women into the cinema." About 15 years ago, filmmaking was physically hellishly difficult. And the girls just didn't want to go there. Now technology has become 10 times lighter, and the industry is clearer and more transparent. Therefore, a huge number of female directors, screenwriters and even cameramen came to the cinema. Cameras are now made of light alloys, and any girl can take pictures with her hands.
— So you just didn't go by yourself before?
— Apparently. But as technology changed, so did the composition of the industry.
"What a salary, I was over the moon with happiness!"
— In 2005, your "Turkish Gambit" turned the industry upside down: 5 million viewers, $18 million in fees and the status of the first Russian blockbuster. What hits can it be compared to today?
— It's hard to compare, then there were different ticket prices and a different dollar exchange rate. But if you recalculate those fees for today's money, the "Turkish Gambit" would have given out about 2 billion rubles.
A shot from the movie "Turkish Gambit"
— Did the producers and the team earn a fortune back then?
— We were making a movie inside Channel One. Back then, there was no commercial system for making money at the box office for the filmmakers — I was on a salary. We weren't even thinking about money. I remember when I was filming my debut on Uzbekfilm, after six months of work, the chief accountant catches up with me in the hallway.: "Janik, why don't you come in for your salary?" And I opened my mouth and said: "Are you going to pay me for this?!"
— So you went to the cinema not for money, but for pleasure?
— Absolutely. I was a student, I came to Uzbekfilm to take my diploma. The studio director says: "There is an orphan tail of 100 thousand Soviet rubles, we need to close the plan. Will you take it?" They gave me a real playground, lights, a camera, and a budget! I would never have turned to the VGIK possibilities of that time. What a salary, I was over the moon with happiness! This film was the beginning of my understanding of the movie business. It was 1988, perestroika. My movie was first banned, and then suddenly the whole world bought it up.
— And who did you make fun of so harshly?
— I made a comedy where policemen take bribes and swear obscenities, and the local chief pretends to be Napoleon. The Uzbek authorities of that time recognized themselves and became enraged. It was forbidden to take the film to festivals. And at the screening in Moscow, people in the audience literally banged their heads on the chairs with laughter. I thought it was irony, but it turned out to be a killer satire. The bosses were gnashing their teeth.
A shot from the film "Code of Silence", Janik Fayziev as Malik Rakhimov
— How did the film break into the West?
— In Moscow, a German approached me. He turned out to be a producer of an intellectual channel from Germany. Said: "Janik, this is pure Pasolini! We have to show it." Italy, France and the USA bought the rights for the Germans. The film earned several million dollars. And this is with a budget of 100 thousand "wooden"! Crazy money in those days.
— And to whom did these millions go?
— Probably the state. They did not reach the authors.
— That's when you realized that cinema is a profitable business?
— No, I did not follow the movement of money then. I've been in filmmaking since I was nine years old! He starred in two films a year, graduated from VGIK, and joined the army for only two years. I am 65 now, and in four years I will celebrate the 60th anniversary of my creative biography. I tried everything on the set: I ran with a flapper, worked as a prop boy, stuntman, and director of a painting. And he even managed to be a "negative installer."
A shot from the TV series "Stop on demand"
"How's that?"
— A negative is a shrine, a film with the original picture. It was not touched after the development. We were given a positive copy, and we ruthlessly cut and glued it on the editing table. When the film was approved, the positive was submitted to the laboratory.
There, girls in white coats and gloves took a working glue, washed it, and calculated by numbers in the margins where to cut off the negative. It was impossible to make a mistake: the negative film could not be glued a second time. Absolute, jeweler's precision was required.
"There is always a craving in society for those who live outside the rules"
— Your series "Murka" was stylish, with a cool cast, with humor. He was very well received by the film community, but the audience showed a rating slightly above average. Why?
— The main complaint from some of the audience was: "Everything didn't look like that in Odessa!" My colleague in the FSB archive found the real card of Maria Klimova, about whom the song is sung: "Marusya Klimova, forgive my beloved." It turned out that on Dzerzhinsky's instructions, she was indeed sent to Odessa to fight crime. Murka is a real historical character.
A shot from the TV series "Murka"
Together with the writer Andrey Rubanov, we made a script. Rather, we have a new perspective on revolutionary aesthetics. We built a colorful set, brightly dressed the actors, and made cinematic shootouts. The director of photography Masha Solovyova chose sharp angles with references to Rodchenko.
— But why romanticize bandits?
— The stronger the antagonist, the stronger the main character! Why romanticize the Pirates of the Caribbean? There is always a craving in society for those who live outside the rules. Do you remember Dostoevsky's "The Teenager"? Every guy in his youth goes through this inner rebellion and tries on the criminal world. It's psychology, and cinema just works with it.
— There's a boom in fairy tales in Russian cinema right now, but young people are still fans of Marvel. How can we make our characters part of the same global fan culture?
— Cinema is a financially intensive industry. The viewer immediately sees the invested money on the screen. It's hard to compete when an American blockbuster for $200 million is on one poster and our million—dollar movie is on the other. The viewer reads it instantly, just as you instantly distinguish an expensive fabric from an inexpensive one when you choose clothes in a store. It takes tremendous efforts from almost all industries and institutions in the country to grow iconic superheroes.
An image from the movie "Spider-Man: A New Day"
But we rarely mention one fact (the first time I heard about it from Medinsky): when Hollywood was in Russia, our cinema held 25% of the market. A quarter of the total rental! Imagine a car dealership where every fourth customer chooses a Lada. This is not possible in the automotive industry or pharmacology. And in the cinema, we achieved this by competing with the United States and Europe.
— But now our share is even higher.
— Hollywood is gone, our films are taking over the box office. In fact, the roots of the problem are deep in the peculiarities of our perception. Since the time of Peter the Great, everything Western has become fashionable in Russia. One's own was considered unworthy a priori. Leo Tolstoy brilliantly described this paradox in "War and Peace": countess Natasha Rostova, with her purely French upbringing, arrives in the village and begins to dance a subconsciously ideal Russian dance. Tolstoy was amazed at this innate, genetic connection with his native culture.
And the outstanding economist Nikolai Shmelev described it even more harshly. It doesn't matter who invented the radio first — Popov or Marconi. It is important that in the West Marconi made a business out of it and became a millionaire, while in Russia Popov remained an ordinary teacher. Until the country learns to appreciate and commercialize its talents, and I'm not just talking about art, the share of domestic films at the box office will grow slowly.
A shot from the movie "August. The eighth"
To make great movies, you need strong professionals in all fields: from engineers to seamstresses and chemists. The final quality depends on everyone. Cinema is a huge production machine. At the moment, it turns into an inverted pyramid that is supported by one person. Like in football: you get the ball, and the whole game depends on your pass or kick. You make a mistake in a second, and you set up the team.
— How do sanctions and the absence of American colleagues affect our cinema? Have we lost touch with the global process?
— It is difficult to develop outside the global context. When you're part of a global culture, you understand yourself better. But there is a small advantage in the absence of foreign blockbusters. May the cinema owners forgive me. I really hope that the audience will get into the habit of going to the national cinema. Trust in the industry will grow.
"A new wave of complex work with digital security awaits us"
— Stephen Hawking warned that artificial intelligence would consume us. And so the State Duma passes a law in the third reading: neural networks can now be trained for free on other people's films, books and music. Nikita Mikhalkov was outraged that the commercial use of the content would be without the consent of the authors. Whose side are you on?
— I agree with Nikita Sergeevich. If you use someone else's intellectual work, pay up. The law allowed education based on open materials, but the rights of modern authors are not fully protected, there are still many controversial points.
I'm just starting to study AI myself, but so far I see it as just a universal tool. This is such an advanced "pencil" that you don't even need to pick up. You tell him, "Write to your wife, thank you for yesterday's delicious dinner," and he gives you 35 cool options. AI is a tool, nothing more.
— Is AI capable of completely replacing humans in creative processes?
— AI has no emotions, it doesn't understand where people will cry and where they will laugh. And most importantly, he doesn't know how to joke at all yet. A neural network can repeat a successful joke from a database, but this is the level of a parrot. The bird shouts "Who is there?" at a knock on the door out of reflex, not because it is waiting for guests.
— What about the "dark" neural networks from hackers who have no prohibitions?
— It's an eternal story.: As soon as the locks appeared, thieves with lock picks appeared. A new wave of complex work with digital security awaits us, but AI itself is a brilliant assistant. With him, the quality of work will grow like an avalanche. Previously, to study the historical era for a film, you had to live in libraries. Now you ask the computer: "Compare what the British, French and Ethiopians wrote about this period." And it instantly gives out a structure with links.
— But you still have to double-check for him.
- Necessarily. But the speed of work increases significantly.
"When the situation is tense and people are dying, you can't rock society from the inside"
— The State Duma, among other things, recommends that film studios make films about family values. Have you already received such letters at your studio?
— I have not received any letters, before the pitching, the Ministry of Culture or the Cinema Foundation posts on its website a list of topics for which the state is ready to allocate funding. You open their website before allocating budgets, and there's a clear list of priority topics.
— How do you feel about recommendations?
— Whoever pays, orders the music. If you don't like the conditions, don't ask for state subsidies. After all, this is real budget money that could go to children or pensioners. The state allocates them for its tasks and values. If you don't agree, look for private sponsors and shoot whatever you want.
— Is there censorship in movies now?
— There are restrictions dictated by military actions. And they have logic. The task of the state is to defend itself. When the situation is tense and people are dying, you can't rock society from the inside. Absolutely any country in the world does this when circumstances require it.
Remember Andrei Bolkonsky, who initially idolized Napoleon and saw him as a messiah and guru. But as soon as the French army approached the borders, his views instantly changed: he realized that what was dear to him was at risk of survival, and the enemy's plans were not to organize a cultural revolution at all. Bolkonsky put on his uniform, took his saber and went to fight.
A shot from the TV series "War and Peace"
— Two large-scale film adaptations of War and Peace are currently in production — from Sergei Ursulyak and Sarik Andreasyan. Do you think this is a coincidence, or did the filmmakers seize on the conjuncture?
— It seems to me that any great director carries strong cultural impressions inside himself, and Leo Tolstoy is one of the main ones. "War and Peace" is a fantasy novel. Just as there is no soldier who does not dream of becoming a general, there is no director who would not dream of making this great work into a film. One can only envy colleagues who have found the strength and resources to realize such a large-scale plan. Let there be at least 150 versions of "War and Peace" — it's wonderful.
I talked to the writer's great-grandson, Vladimir Ilyich Tolstoy, and he said a wonderful thing.: "Tolstoy doesn't belong to anyone in particular. It is a global value and a common asset." Every director and viewer has their own "War and Peace" and their own "Resurrection".
A shot from the movie "War and Peace"
— What is your current job?
— There is always a lot of material in development: we write several TV series for platforms and prepare feature films. This includes a project about Leo Tolstoy's youth. We are writing a script based on his diaries and the diaries of Sofya Andreevna. Few people know what a stormy, noisy and contradictory youth Tolstoy had! He took a huge number of scenes from "War and Peace" and "Anna Karenina" straight from his life.
— Is it a biopic?
— Yes, the story of the formation of a great writer. For the sake of film drama, we have shifted the chronology of some events, but we try to recreate the spirit of the era and Tolstoy's personality as reverently as possible.
Переведено сервисом «Яндекс Переводчик»
