Anton Borisov is a comedian for those who have already realized that there will be no "new world" and that the old one has long since been wiped off the walls of their cozy panel houses. His concerts are a long-suffering chronicle of weary thirty-somethings, looking out into the era of QR codes or out the window with grandmothers discussing Putin as a local superhero. Here heroism is analyzed in detail to find out that being a hero is more about silently standing in line than about victory marches.
Borisov's humor grates to the bone, but leaves no chance to fall into pathos - the absurdity and fatigue on both sides of the screen are all too familiar. Between the trivialities of everyday life - children who have long been smarter than adults and languid evenings with movies for the tired - are embedded constant reminders: surviving in Russia means learning to smile in a battle where even the rules are forgotten to be announced in advance.
There are no calls for change here, but a painful attempt to hold on to the remnants of humanity in a reality where a joke is the last unresolved protest.
