Zharikov became homeless

The famous stuntman vegetates in a dirty closet without windows, and his friends give him money for food.

Who among us does not remember the famous TV series “The Meeting Place Cannot Be Changed” or the exciting film “Pirates of the 20th Century”? Most of the most dangerous stunts in these films were performed by stuntman Vladimir Zharikov. He fell off a cliff, burned, drowned - in general, he risked his life to the fullest. And he dreamed that in his declining years he would live in his own apartment and spoil his grandchildren. But instead, today Vladimir Yuryevich vegetates in a dirty closet without windows, and his friends give him money for food. “Only the stars” learned the details of this tragedy.

What Zharikov had to endure on the set! More than once the stuntman was on the verge of death, but God protected him. In the legendary series “The meeting place cannot be changed,” Zharikov replaced two characters at once. He duplicated the hero of Alexander Belyavsky, Fox, when Zheglov was chasing bandits. It was Zharikov who jumped out of the car for Fox. He was also that unfortunate waitress who falls out of the window during a fight between policemen and bandits. Vladimir Yuryevich was often called to perform risky stunts in films. Thanks to numerous roles in films, the Zharikovs became wealthy. He and his wife Galina always dreamed of having their own apartment.

“I’ve been in Moscow for more than thirty years, but it just so happened: they didn’t give me an apartment, my wife and I poked around in strange corners, living in a hostel. But in the 90s, we finally managed to save the required amount,” says Vladimir Yuryevich.

In those years, thousands of people gave their hard-earned money to scammers who promised them mountains of gold. The Zharikovs were sure that this would definitely not happen to them. The real estate agency was recommended by friends. Without fear of a catch, Vladimir Yuryevich transferred all his savings to the company - about 30 thousand dollars. After a couple of months, the Zharikovs decided to find out if they had managed to find an apartment for them. But instead of answering, they came across a closed office door. Those scammers were never found. Later it turned out that they fled with the loot abroad.

After this, a dark streak came in the stuntman’s life. Vladimir Yuryevich and his wife Galina were barely making ends meet; Zharikov was called to the cinema less and less often. I had to again, as in my youth, ask friends to spend the night for a couple of days. Zharikov did not have a Moscow residence permit, so he couldn’t even rent a room in a hostel. Soon a new misfortune came to the stuntman’s house - his beloved wife passed away.

“After Galochka’s death, I completely wilted,” the stuntman admits. – Many friends turned their backs on me. There was nowhere to live. Several times I spent the night at the station among homeless people and rats. Then I accidentally met an old friend, who, having learned about my troubles, allowed me to live in the back room of his enterprise.

Today, the 72-year-old stuntman, lonely and ill, lives in a tiny closet in a former factory. To get to his new home, I had to wind through echoing corridors for a long time. The first thing you think when you get into these “apartments” is: “How can you live here?” Zharikov’s room is so small that two adults can hardly turn around in it. I look around. The floor is strewn with construction debris. The wallpaper is dirty, old and peeling. The ceiling will soon collapse on your head. The only window is almost to the ceiling and barely lets in sunlight.

“Every day I wake up and think that today they can kick me out of here and I’ll end up at the station again,” Zharikov admits with a tremble in his voice. “That’s why I have all my things collected.” Just in case.
All his simple belongings fit into one large bag. Vladimir Yuryevich has only two shirts and one pair of trousers. Everything else - cups, spoons, plates - was lent to him by kind people.

The bed, or rather, what serves as Zharikov’s bed, stands in a dusty and dirty corridor. At first glance, it looks more like a gymnastic apparatus; in everyday life it is called a “goat.” I try to lift it, but it doesn’t work, it’s too heavy. But Vladimir Yuryevich does it literally with his left hand. He puts the “bed” in the middle of his closet, takes out a pillow and a thin blanket from a small bag and sleeps like that.

“It’s good to sleep here in the summer, it’s not hot.” And in winter it gets so cold that you can’t touch a tooth,” Zharikov confesses.

Having removed the bed, he shows me two thick folders in which he keeps his correspondence with officials, which has been going on for several years.

– I wrote to everyone: the president, the mayor, Nikita Mikhalkov and even my namesake actor Evgeny Zharikov – all to no avail! – Vladimir Yuryevich complains. “I’m asking them not for a mansion on Rublyovka, but for a small room in a hostel, where I could calmly live out the days allotted to me.”
The stuntman's voice trembles. There are tears in the eyes of an elderly man. But he copes with his emotions and continues:

“They tell me that I don’t have the right to do this.” Anyone who has lived in Moscow for ten years can get a room in a hostel. Seven years ago, one of my friends registered me in his apartment. Thanks to him for this! I have three years left to wait. But I'm afraid that during this time I will die. These joker officials also offer me to stand in line for an apartment. I calculated that I will be a hundred years old when I receive it. I’m unlikely to live to see this bright hour...

Vladimir Yuryevich’s daughter Svetlana and her grandson live in Ukraine. But proud Zharikov categorically refuses to accept any help from them. Like, it’s not becoming and beyond his years to sit on the necks of young people.

“Sveta doesn’t know about my problems,” says the stuntman. “And he won’t find out until my death.” Every time my daughter calls me, I answer that I’m fine and she has nothing to worry about. Sveta is also having a hard time now. There is no work in Ukraine. She stays at home with my little grandson, her husband is the only breadwinner. Am I going to be a freeloader? Never!
Finally, Vladimir Yuryevich proudly shows me a small closet where on dusty shelves there are his books about the history of Russia, about famous politicians and generals. Today, books are the only thing Zharikov has left from that once happy life...