Renowned scholars of Soviet and Russian television Alexander Prokhorov, Elena Prokhorova, and Rimgaila Salys have edited a multifaceted collection that explores continuities and changes of post-Soviet television since 2000. Based on a genre approach, the introduction and nine articles focus on various formats like quality television drama, low-budget web television mini-series, or the channel Kul΄tura (Culture). They analyze gender, issues of cultural memory, formats bridging traditional legacy TV and internet-based platforms, as well as the consequences of shifting political and economic power structures. Five short interviews with Russian producers, directors, and screenwriters complement the edition. They may become interesting sources for future research.
In their introduction, the editors highlight structural developments regarding new technologies like streaming or the fact that recent Russian language TV series are now also available on international platforms like Netflix and Amazon Prime. Furthermore, several channels offer online services targeting Russophone viewers all over the world (9). Thus, the previous trend of adapting western originals has been compensated by Russian originals that are said to be distributed globally. Considering the Russian aggressions since the annexation of Crimea, the increasing efforts of Russian propaganda wars in the west, and the current war against Ukraine, this claim should have been discussed in a longer perspective as it addresses the transnational adaptability of the post-Soviet TV culture.
The broad range of topics the essays explore are connected by the editors’ assumption that Russian TV offers deep insights into pop-cultural trends of the Putin-era and depict current societal negotiations and debates about the glorious Soviet past, as well as about ethnic, sexual, social, and other diversity. Alyssa DeBlasio investigates the programming of Kul΄tura channel that was in 1997 the first thematic channel in Russian television broadcasting history. She convincingly shows how Kult΄ura, as “island of good taste” (44), successfully addresses the widespread nostalgia for Soviet culturedness (kul΄turnost΄) among the generation of viewers who came of age before 1991. It thus perpetuates the Soviet intellectual concept of “high” culture and conveys Soviet norms and values in opposition to the influences of western popular culture until today. Stephen M. Norris examines the award-winning serial Shtrafbat (Penal Battalion) to show how television let history conflict with contemporary memory and politics. The serial presented challenging interpretations on the Soviet victory over Nazi Germany in 1945. It initiated public debates by implementing the narrative that Russian soldiers “fought and suffered for the Russian Orthodox spiritual community” and presenting taboo topics on gender violence and state terror that had totally disappeared from TV by then (73). Rimgaila Salys delves into the distorting representation of two famous stars of Stalinist musical comedy before WWII, Grigory Aleksandrov and Liubov΄ Orlova, in Vitaly Moskalenko's series Orlova and Alexandrov. Salys analyzes how the series mystifies and rewrites history, attributing post-Soviet values to the historical actors that aim to discharge them from any accusations of “ideological servility” to the Stalinist regime (96).
Elena and Alexander Prokhorov examine two Putin-era series on Catherine the Great and work out how they undermine narratives of charismatic power that normally characterize such historical costume dramas. The authors argue that these two series engaged into a transnational scene of historical television productions that relentlessly mix up historical settings and modern language (111). Lilya Kaganovsky intriguingly highlights how Valery Todorovsky's 2013 TV series Ottepel΄ (The Thaw) developed its story line “between pornography and nostalgia.” “The Thaw” tells the story of the making of Soviet films by covering the lives of the staffers of the central filmmaking studio, Mosfil΄m. The series creates a complex relationship with the Soviet past and intends to respond to international TV series like Mad Men that are also popular in Russia. It explicitly draws on Soviet tropes to address nostalgic emotions among its audience.
The four contributions of Tatiana Mikhailova, Alexander Prokhorov, Elena Prokhorova, and Rimgaila Salys, Vlad Strukov and Saara Ratilainen cover different kinds of recent popular TV series like Izmeny (The Affairs), Metod (The Method), Ol΄ga, and Stervochki (Bitches). They discuss from different perspectives potential tensions and contradictions that TV series could reveal towards the official norms and values the Putin regime propagates. These challenges and the way Putin-era television developed particular genres, what kind of norms and values it conveyed, and how it affected contemporary Russian society are worthy of discussion by future research exploring viewers’ reception. Generally, this edition addresses continuities and changes from Soviet to post-Soviet television that may help us to understand how television became the revived mouthpiece of the Putin regime.
