Kirill Lavrukhin prefers to look honestly into the eyes of the era, which assures as if it could still teach something. The hero doesn't pretend: growing up is long over, and now you have to choose between blinking impotently at memes or listening to absurd news that makes you want to clutch your shoulders and go back to sleep. In Lavrukhin's world, even friendship smells like a corporate party, and patriotism comes strictly with an assembly manual.
On stage - not a winner in life, but an observer with thickened skin and an attitude of "thank you all, go...". Parents, politics, printers and family everyday life turn out to be a single show where the plot is dull and the lines are recognized only by the tired audience. Self-irony is the only uninterrupted way out, but even it fails sometimes.
