Artyom Vinokur is a comedian who is trusted with the most unpleasant thing of all: calling things by their proper names. His concerts are a chronicle of adult anxiety and urban absurdity, where even the refrigerator is endowed with nerves and psychologists appear only in memes.
In Vinokur's stand-ups, adulthood is not a victory, but torture with elements of domestic farce and crushing nostalgia. His hero does not fight for meanings, but endlessly argues with his own refrigerator, bras and dull routine. Social observations are not here for consolation: fatigue, anxiety and an ironic "fuck you" are perhaps the main moral of the evening.
