Category Archives: Work

Weekly writing round-up, featuring Pussy Riot, horror and my favorite bad joke in Russian

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“Abandon hope all ye who enter here.” You know what pisses me off the most about the courts? It’s the denial that surrounds them. President PM Medvedev can do a serious interview with a serious UK publication, and wave off all concerns about Pussy Riot by pointing out that the court should decide. This is coming from a lawyer!!! Every Russian lawyer knows what these courts are actually like. Come on. Of course, these are not the arbitration courts we are talking about here. Those function pretty decently, actually. And that’s an important distinction to make. See, you can have normal courts in Russia – if the will is there.

I go and have breakfast with a beautiful woman, and we talk masochism. In a horror movie context. I think it’s true that Russian audiences are more sophisticated when it comes to horror/thrillers. Remember “Hostel”? Every single Russian person I’ve spoken to about it since moving here will say something like, “That movie. It is so immature.” Teenage boys included.

Also, because of my birthday I wrote about what it’s like to be a woman zeroing in on her 30s in Russia. It’s not bad, actually. Especially after you have a kid. You’ve fulfilled your duty, you can just dick around (if you manage to get past the gendered terminology).

I’m 28

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I slept for about three hours, because Lev had what appeared to be food poisoning. I put out the paper today and bought cherries for the office. My colleagues repaid me with flowers and kisses – and a paper that came out on time – which was very generous of them. Somehow, my body is still going – even though I’m feeling a bit like the Terminator must have felt towards the end of “Judgment Day.” Fellow parents, you know how I feel.

It’s always best when your birthday flowers are given to you by a handsome man.

When I was celebrating my 27th, Lev was just a little over a week old – and I was still shell-shocked. Alexei and I had drinks and ice cream in a dark playground, while Lev slept in his basket. I wasn’t entirely sure how I was ever going to function as an adult person again – having a small child instantly reduced me to being a small child.

Slowly but surely, life began to come together again. But the patterns were all different. The world, when I came back to it, was there – but changed. The world was a bar of chocolate, melting in Moscow’s summer heat in the bottom of your bag, cooling off into a strange new shape by midnight.

Lev is almost walking now. He’s very tall for his age – so it’s harder for him than for other one-year-olds, or so I’m told. My husband is a bona fide film director. And as for me – I really miss sleep.

Giant hogweeds on the rampage, that one rape movie you should watch (if you can stomach it), and the general state of Russia’s film industry

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I have been writing for your benefit, dear reader. This is for you – all for you.

First of all, stay away from the freaky plants that look like Queen Anne’s lace that had been watered with bovine growth hormone (and find out what they have to do with the worst dictator in Russian history).

Second of all, here is a review of “Twilight Portrait.” No, it has nothing to do with sexy vampires who enjoy stalking underage girls. Instead, it’s probably one of the most well-made films to have come out of Russia in recent years. It’s also not the kind of movie you watch if you don’t think you can handle some pretty horrific depictions of rape.

And speaking of rape and such – here is my take on why Russian dramas are not doing too well at home. I think it’s a combination of a lot of factors, including the general state of the market, and I really hate the simplistic explanations of the cultural elite that amount to, “Well, people are just stupid nowadays, and can’t appreciate good cinema.” Not quite.