Nika Tarasevich digs through everyday life like a medicine cabinet: instead of band-aids - OCD and anxiety rituals, instead of iodine - an eternal attempt to understand herself against the background of psychotherapy and a tuberculosis clinic. The world, where even a smile is a reason for suspicion, becomes a guinea pig for her tired but tenacious observations.
At twenty-seven it's funny and a little scary: gender swings, feminism as an excuse to start a conversation and the search for herself between a Thai monastery and a Moscow queue for pancakes. Every concert is an attempt to preserve the remnants of reason and comfort when even the most banal things take an absurd turn. Everything is fair, but the laughter here is also a little tinged with sadness.
