Pyotr Yevdokimov disperses the eternal dramas of the therapeutized era: he has no energy for psychologists, no desire to get married, but he does not hide his infantile fears. In "The Worked-Out Bull" the wit hides the panic of growing up, when even the choice of a razor is more important than vows.
The themes are old, the anxieties are new: vibrators in the closet, quick wins in bed, and the rubber reality of responsibility. Essentially a portrait of a man who is tired of being embarrassed, but still a little hopeful that not all honesty deserves applause.
