shows a condition which today’s inheritors of Soviet Communist Party – the Russian financial oligarchs and their ally, the post-Communist authoritarian government, have put Russia and Russian people in. The physical poverty, according to the film, is not even the ultimate evil. It is people‘s souls that has reached a new depth of spiritual abyss, even after so rich in immorality (covered by the ideological façade of super-morality) Russian history – it is people’s overwhelming, inspired concentration on money (to the point of creative obsession of each minute of living). But if it could be just this situation as such, the film could be a Russian parody on the American climate of financial obsession of everybody and all. But Muratova adds to it specifically Russian flavor – a painful depersonalization between the characters’ pernicious financial calculations and traces of previous dry idealism from their memory in the form of their rich verbal effusions and cultural associations (to which they give themselves uselessly and meaninglessly, with self-mocking ironic passion, for purely frivolous cathartic purposes). This kind of morbid psychological condition is a new incarnation of Soviet times when crude propaganda was unnaturally fused in people’s mind with the traces of information about, for example, Russian and European literature which they “prohodili” (“moved through” – studied) in public schools and colleges. If before, in Soviet times, ideological dogma trashed culture, today it is done by omnipresent financial calculations. The apotheosis of the film is the horrifying and unexpected moment (here Muratova applies a psychodrama technique when the medium/device becomes part of the narrative) – we see how recitation of poetry by the two protagonists is transformed into rap-like bout of hateful irritation toward the so called disinterested seekers of “sublime” truth (echo of socio-cultural ideal), including Muratova herself as a film-director. For more and more Russians (like for more and more Americans) to look disinterestedly for truth is an absurd occupation that contradicts the “real life” which is outside truth, outside ideal, beyond the sublime and alien to disinterestedness. Muratova’s camera is scapegoated when one of the characters spit into the camera lens. It’s not just ability to hope that is stolen from people, Muratova incriminates to Soviet communist ideology, but the destruction of human ability to be interested in truth as such.