About performances

Yes. About performances. On the "Last Date in Venice" Krymov, I simultaneously really wanted to get and was afraid.

I wanted because I love this novel Hem for a long time and forever. No, I love all the novels. But this one is especially. To the comma. To the word. To the last point. And even once I fell in love with a fifty -year -old colonel about this (I was 18 then, and I worked as a cleaner to restore me at the university, washing the audience at the military department, from five in the morning, and he always came, in uniform, tall, dry, and that tomorrow he would go to shoot ducks, and so on). When I read this novel, my heart hurts. He is for me - from the most.

I was afraid to go because ... I was afraid. I read reviews, watched photos. The clown nose on the colonel, three actresses for the role - I was not sure that I could accept this. Accepted. Thanks to some strokes, very accurately found. There are not as many of them as we would like. But they are. Thanks to the stunning Filippenko. Its subtle charm, not on show, but inside. It has light and love in it. And he shares them with his character. In general, it is precisely some human qualities of the actor (which I, of course, know nothing about, but which for some reason are felt, assumed, are guessed in it)-they are reflected in the role. And only in order to see the game of this actor in this performance, I would go to him again. And even two.

No, my heart did not hurt from the performance. Unless it pinched a couple of times. The new performance of Krymov did not shock, did not turn it over, did not kill. He is very ... carefully and accurately, and even interestingly made. But - without risk. Everything is verified. Stylish (even the red nose of the colonel is very rhyming with the red dress of the girl, damn it! This is too "picture", too verified the palette). In some places, original. But - not to fly. Even the plates here fly right into their hands. And not one crashed. Juggling, but not hysterical. Focus. Reception. I'm afraid Hem did not write like that. Or I have too idealized look at him. And his texts. But what to do: an old affection, like an old wound. She will always whine before the rain more than the rest.

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