Translated material
Who does Mongolia listen to?
The Russian Renaissance Film Festival has ended
Reporting about a cultural event of this kind twenty-five years ago, there was no need to point out any “revival” - the days of Soviet cinema were held here every year. As usual, within the framework of good neighborly relations and to strengthen friendship and cooperation. Our films had an impressive quota in the Mongolian box office - this is not counting the creative meetings of the stars with the intelligentsia in Ulaanbaatar and Darkhan, with cattle breeders in the steppe camps and with compatriot soldiers from a limited military contingent, whose number was comparable to the population of the large city there . In general, the Mongols were not bored without us. Children were required to learn Russian at school. Adults worked side by side with Soviet specialists on the construction site of local socialism and preferred to spend the red days of our calendar at home - away from drunken “brotherly” companies that organized too cheerful street processions.In the early nineties, all this ended. Russian has become optional at school, and today’s youth no longer know it. So don’t be fooled by the Cyrillic alphabet of most street advertisements. Our army units returned to their homeland, leaving the military camps, and they were ruined. Their communist leader, Comrade Tsedenbal, also left to live out his life with us, at the end of his life he suffered from a mental disorder due to excessive addiction to alcohol.
Today, the giant granite Lenin on the square in front of the Ulaanbaatar Hotel still calls somewhere, but Mongolia no longer listens too much to it. Local TVs receive Russian channels, but the country is not the only one watching them. It has gone so far as to mark the anniversary of President Bush's official visit: this example of sheer political disgrace was given by Russian Ambassador Extraordinary and Plenipotentiary Boris Govorin, characterizing Mongolian public sentiment and asserting the need to turn the situation around. The Embassy, along with our Ministry of Culture, initiated the Russian Renaissance festival, rightly considering cinema the most effective tool for repairing once strong relations.
The festival program, compiled by its president Sergei Novozhilov, included films of democratic genres: two lyrical comedies (“Love-Carrot” by Alexander Strizhenov and “Engagement” by Ilya Khotinenko and Elizaveta Lizhnina) and two melodramas (“The Italian” by Andrei Kravchuk and “Ferris Wheel” Vera Glagoleva). And also “Mongol” by Sergei Bodrov Sr., which, of course, was number one. It was interesting how the Mongols would perceive “Mongol”. After all, permission to shoot this film in an authentic location was not obtained: our friends were confused by something about the idea of a biopic about a man whom they reverence almost as a deity and who, in all his gigantic stone splendor, sits in front of the entrance to the Government House. It seems they didn't like the emphasis on the enemy origins of Genghis Khan's step-son. Nevertheless, two Mongolian children starred in “Mongol” - they portrayed Temujin and his future wife at a tender age. And they were present at the screening of “Mongol”. The hall was full. Partly due to embassy staff and other Russians working in Ulaanbaatar, but not only.
Mongolian children came to see “Mongol” and other films, and it was not noticeable that they submitted to pioneer coercion. Valery Ugarov’s cartoon “Grandma Ezhka and Others” was brought especially for them. Which is reasonable, because children are the Mongolian future, and it is extremely important to set them up in a timely manner in a friendly Mongolian-Russian manner, so that later it would not even occur to them to rejoice at the visit of the American president or humbly thank Japan for writing off the debt and forgetting about the impressive amounts forgiven by Russia. Ambassador Govorin also recalled these amounts and the words of “the great man, Comrade Stalin” to the glory of the Mongolian people at the celebrations in Moscow, speaking to a delegation of filmmakers at a reception at the embassy.
The delegation was composed wisely - mainly from actors who are well remembered and loved by the older Mongolian generations. According to the initiators of the festival, they need to quickly help them forget about everything unpleasant associated with “big brother” and remind them of the best and favorite things associated with both him and their own youth. I managed to remind. “Shura - fifty kopecks!” - people rejoiced at the sight of actress Lyudmila Ivanova, who in response told them from the stage how she asked Eldar Ryazanov to compose love for her heroine in “Office Romance,” but he did not understand her and said: “Mind your own business. Collect contributions." "Madama!" - this greeting was intended for Natalya Krachkovskaya, the famous Madame Gritsatsueva from Gaidaev’s “The Twelve Chairs”. And in Zinaida Kiriyenko they recognized first of all “Quiet Don”, where the actress made her debut with her teacher Sergei Gerasimov. By the way, she came to the premiere of this film in Mongolia. She performed in front of soldiers, townspeople and steppe residents. It was a long time ago. There was no talk of the Renaissance then.