The image of Russia in the 1990s in D. Astrakhan's film "Everything Will Be All Right": Artistic reflection of social and cultural transformation

Shumov Maksim Vladimirovich Associate Professor, Department of Directing and Choreography, Dostoevsky Omsk State University 644043, Russia, Omsk region, Omsk, Krasny Put str., 36 mvshumov@mail.ru Other publications by this author

Introduction

The 1990s in the history of Russia were marked by a large-scale social and cultural transformation associated with the collapse of the Soviet Union, the transition to a market economy and a fundamental restructuring of public institutions. These changes were accompanied by a sharp drop in living standards, the loss of the old value system and the formation of a new identity. Russian cinema of this period became not only an artistic, but also a social document of the time, reflecting the drama of the turning point. In this context, Dmitry Astrakhan's film "Everything will be Fine" is particularly interesting, which embodies one of the possible ways to represent post-Soviet reality through the prism of personal history, feelings and everyday life.

The relevance of this research is determined by the need for a comprehensive understanding of the mechanisms of artistic modeling of the image of Russia in the transition period of the 1990s. Despite the availability of research on landmark films of the era ("Heaven Promised", "Window to Paris", "Brother", "Voroshilovsky Shooter", etc.), Astrakhan's work rarely becomes the subject of systematic scientific analysis. Meanwhile, his film "Everything Will be Fine" allows for a fresh look at ways to represent social instability, cultural disorientation, and human adaptation to new conditions. The importance of this topic increases in the context of modern cultural reflection in relation to the "dashing nineties", which continue to shape collective memory and national identity.

The purpose of the research is to analyze the artistic means and structural components of the film "Everything will be Fine", through which the image of Russia of the 1990s is formed as a reflection of a deep social and cultural transformation.

The goal set in the study is achieved by solving the following tasks:

• identify the key aspects shaping the image of Russia in the film;
• to identify the features of Astrakhan's aesthetic and ethical approach to portraying post-Soviet reality;
• compare the model of Russia's image in "Everything Will be Fine" with other social dramas of the 1990s;
• to reveal the relationship between individual history and collective trauma in the context of cultural memory.

The object of the study is the Russian feature films of the 1990s, representing the image of Russia in the context of social and cultural changes. The subject of the study is understood as the artistic features and semantic mechanisms of the formation of the image of Russia in the film "Everything will be fine." The relationship between the object and the subject of the study lies in the fact that the Astrakhan film is considered as part of the general cinematic process representing the post-Soviet transformation, and its analysis makes it possible to identify particular patterns and artistic strategies characteristic of cultural products of this period.

The problem of the research lies in the need to identify and interpret the mechanisms of visual and narrative modeling of the image of Russia in conditions of social disintegration and moral uncertainty, based on a specific work of art cinema with a unique intonation and ethical content.

Research methods include:

• interpretative method (analysis of symbolism, image system, dialogues and drama of the film);
• cultural-historical method (consideration of the film in the context of the socio-cultural situation of the 1990s);
• comparative method (comparing the Astrakhan film with other cinematic works of the era);
• hermeneutic method (revealing hidden meanings, intonation nuances and the ethical position of the author);
• narratological analysis (the study of the structure of the narrative and the functioning of characters as carriers of the meanings of the era).

The use of these methods allows us to comprehensively explore the film as a work that forms a collective idea of the country, time and man.

The research materials were the films "Get out!" (directed by D. Astrakhan, 1991), "Heaven promised" (directed by E. Ryazanov, 1991), "You are my only one" (directed by D. Astrakhan, 1993), "Window to Paris" (directed by Y. Mamin, 1993), "Everything will be fine." (dir. D. Astrakhan, 1995), "Waiting Room" (dir. D. Astrakhan, 1998), "Contract with death" (dir. D. Astrakhan, 1998), "Brother" (dir. A. Balabanov, 1997), "Voroshilov shooter" (dir. S. Govorukhin, 1999), "The Yellow Dwarf" (dir. Astrakhan, 2001), "Give me the moonlight" (dir. Astrakhan, 2001), "There are good and kind people in the world" (dir. Astrakhan, 2008), "Children" (dir. Astrakhan, 2013), "The Game" (directed by D. Astrakhan, 2017). Scientific works on film studies, cultural studies and post-Soviet transformations by A. Boyarintsev, N. Yurchenko, S. Smirnov, V. Tyurin, E. Solovyova, M. Lipovetsky, A. Martynova, M. Kagan, V. Pelipenko, N. Zakharov, M. Pavlyuchenko, E. Dobrenko, N. Zorka, S. Shcherbakov, B. Boymers (B. Beumers), S. Bridger, M. Geller, M. Nekrich, J. Culler.

The scientific novelty of the research lies in the systematic analysis of the film "Everything will be Fine" as a work of art that forms an original and little-explored image of Russia in the 1990s, as well as in revealing the author's position of Astrakhan, which differs from the narratives of violence, cynicism and social hopelessness that dominated cinema in the 1990s.

The practical significance of the research lies in the possibility of its use in courses on the history of cinema, cultural studies, post-Soviet studies, as well as in the development of a methodology for analyzing cinema as a tool of cultural memory and social diagnostics.

For a deep understanding of the image of Russia embodied in the film "Everything will be Fine", it is important to first outline the historical and cultural context of the 1990s, the time in which and about which this work speaks. Without recreating the key socio-cultural processes, sentiments, and value shifts that defined the post-Soviet era, it is impossible to adequately interpret the artistic meanings and intonations of the film. Therefore, before proceeding to the analysis of the actual cinematic work, it is necessary to consider the main features of the social atmosphere of the transition period, which set the framework for the perception and creative understanding of the new reality.

Historical and cultural context of the 1990s

The collapse of the Soviet Union in 1991 was not just a political event, but a cultural and identity catastrophe, the consequences of which continue to be comprehended in Russian humanitarian knowledge. The 1990s were marked by a radical change in socio-economic formation, the destruction of previous ideological and moral orientations, and the formation of a new social reality associated with a sense of instability, anxiety, and loss. In the context of liberalization, economic reforms and the dismantling of the Soviet system, a kind of "anthropological confusion" arose in society ^[1], when the usual patterns of behavior were discredited, and the new ones had not yet taken root.

The term "transit", borrowed from political science and sociology, is often used to describe the state of Russian society during this period. However, in the humanities, especially in cultural studies, the state of transition is characterized not so much by institutional changes as by a deep internal identity crisis, a violation of continuity between the past and the present. As N. Yurchenko emphasizes, "in post-Soviet Russia in the 1990s, there was a multiple stratification of the social body, blurring the boundaries between social and personal, official and marginal, private and public" ^[2]. Thus, the cultural fabric of society has undergone fragmentation, resulting in the disappearance of a single ideological framework that ensured symbolic order.

Under these conditions, culture in the broadest sense began to play an important role — as a space for developing new meanings, behaviors, and ways of understanding what is happening. It is mass culture, including cinema, television, literature, and popular music, that has assumed the role of mediator between the eroding past and the emerging present. At the same time, the cinema of the 1990s, despite the loss of state support, institutional unity and the former ideological function, did not disappear, but transformed: from a centralized film production system to a more market-based model, from propaganda to private, authorial or commercially oriented representation.

Opponents of this position ^[3] argue that the Russian cinema of the 1990s found itself in a marginal position: it gave way to mass television and Western products, losing its ability to be a significant social institution. However, this interpretation, although understandable from the point of view of institutional sociology, does not take into account the phenomenon of "cultural inertia" — the ability of individual works of art to act as a space of resistance to social entropy, to generate other forms of collective memory and identity. That is why the appeal to the cinema of the 1990s as a cultural source allows us to consider not only the "crisis" as destruction, but also as a space for the birth of new meanings, albeit often paradoxical, ironic or contradictory.

Special attention in this context should be paid to films that reflect the 1990s not through political slogans or direct satire, but through everyday images, types, speech forms and visual codes. These films, as a rule, avoid rigid naturalism, but in their artistic structure they represent the very complexity of the era. As V. Tyurin notes, "it is precisely in attempts to express the impossibility of simple answers, the rejection of straightforward moralization, that the aesthetics of the 1990s lies" ^[4]. Dmitry Astrakhan's film "Everything will be Fine" is one such example: it immerses the viewer in an environment where a new social reality collides with remnants of the old mentality, and the main conflicts unfold not on a political, but on a human level.

Thus, the cultural context of the 1990s sets a complex, multi-layered framework for the analysis of cinematography as a form of artistic response to the challenges of the era. Unlike the official Soviet cinema with its clear ideological mission, films of the 1990s function in the logic of uncertainty, openness, and multiple interpretations. They become not so much a chronicle of destruction as evidence of a search — moral, cultural, and identifying. Dmitry Astrakhan became one of the directors who tried to capture, comprehend and overcome the ambivalence that defined the culture of post-Soviet transit in his films.

A brief overview of the filmmaking work of Dmitry Astrakhan

The creative path of Dmitry Astrakhan, a director, playwright and actor, was formed at the intersection of theatrical and cinematic traditions. After studying at the Leningrad Institute of Theater, Music and Cinematography, and then working in theaters in Yekaterinburg and St. Petersburg, Astrakhan came to cinema as a mature director with a clear understanding of drama, acting psychology and close-up directing. His theatrical experience gave him that focus on the personal, intimate, and human, which became a characteristic feature of his cinematic style. In the context of the breakdown of ideological and aesthetic guidelines in the 1990s, his films became one of the few attempts to preserve the humanistic dimension of culture, relying on the drama of everyday life and moral conflicts understandable to the viewer.

Critics often accused Astrakhan of being "melodramatic" and "excessively soft" ^[5], contrasting his work with the more radical, harsh and socially aggressive "new Russian cinema". However, this rebuke, in fact, only confirms the fundamental distinctiveness of Astrakhan's artistic method: he seeks not to shock the viewer, but to restore dialogue with him, to give emotional support in a situation of public disorientation. As V. Lipovetsky rightly notes, "in the era of the collapse of ideologies, a humanistic statement becomes not a platitude, but an act of resistance" ^[6].

Astrakhan's directorial film debut took place in 1991 with "Get Out!", which became one of the first references to the topic of Jewish history in Soviet cinema, revealing the tragedy of a Jewish family against the background of the pogroms of the early 20th century. The film, shot back in the era of perestroika, raises issues of memory, violence and ethnic identity, which was especially relevant during the period of growing national consciousness.

However, Astrakhan gained real fame after the release of the film "You are my only one." This painting, which tells about the choice between personal happiness and social responsibility, has become a symbol of post-Soviet melodrama, where the personal comes to the fore, but does not lose touch with the historical context. Already here, the key feature of the director was outlined — the rejection of harsh assessments in favor of moral empathy for the characters.

The next film, Everything Will Be Fine, continues to explore human life in an era of change, becoming one of the most striking attempts to reflect post-Soviet reality by means of an artistic compromise between social drama and lyrical intonation.

The multi-part film "The Waiting Room" reveals the confrontation between two worlds: the poor and the rich, which has always been a cornerstone in our cultural code. The film also debunks myths about a beautiful life, as opposed to the American and Brazilian TV series popular at the time, and the theme of heroism and self-sacrifice is very dramaturgically appropriate for the archetypes of the characters.

The "Contract with death" raises the social and moral issues of dividing people into "necessary" and "unnecessary." It is based on the idea of using people with an antisocial lifestyle as organ donors to save others. This idea contradicts everyone's right to life and health. The film shows the bioethical problems of organ shortage, the rights of patients (donors), negative eugenics, mercy, social justice, and the professional duty of a doctor. The film also asks whether it is possible to sacrifice one life for the sake of another. In addition, the film is imbued with ideas of spiritual rebirth of people. For example, the love story of Anton and Anya shows how, in changing circumstances, truly human feelings rise from the depths of souls, compassion, willingness to sacrifice oneself for others, and kindness manifest themselves.

The next stage in Dmitry Astrakhan's work, the 2000s, is characterized by the preservation of the author's attitude towards humanistic intonation and focus on the problems of the "little man", however, moral and social issues are noticeably deepening in these works ^[7]. Despite the fact that the public's attention is increasingly shifting to entertainment content, Astrakhan remains faithful to the drama of interpersonal relationships, where the inner experiences of the characters against the background of a transforming society are in focus.

The film "Yellow Dwarf" reveals the problems of middle-aged couples, aging wives and husbands, fathers and children. The plot is based on the seemingly prosperous family life of a famous writer who writes tabloid novels for money. Lies and hypocrisy flourish in his life, in his family, in his friendships. The characters of the film live in a stratum of existence where people every minute and consciously injure others and thereby mutilate and disfigure their own souls. At the same time, the authors touch upon philosophical issues.: "Do you think all women are mean, lying creatures? Or maybe not all of them, in one minute?"

"Give me the moonlight" reveals the sincerity of the marital relationship. Viewers note that the film shows how spouses who have lived a long life together never come to true emotional intimacy. The husband is openly cheating on his wife, and even though she is hiding it, she is also cheating. The characters demonstrate a wide range of diverse qualities — narcissism, selfishness, jealousy. At the same time, as in previous films, the style of the late 90s is reflected here: the interiors, clothes, and even the craze for psychics characteristic of that time.

The film "There are kind and good people in the world" raises the topic of the essence of the Russian person, about the intellectual, about his environment, cultural and not so much. The social issues in the film are connected with the confrontation between the main character, a young history teacher Dmitry Isaev, and the residents of the small town of Zarechensk. Isaev hates those around him, calls them "cattle and cattle" and dreams of building a beautiful "City of the Sun" on the site of Zarechensk. However, his aspirations are not supported by his fellow citizens, or even by his relatives. In addition, the film raises the question that the measure of humanity is not the number of books read, but the willingness to perform a feat.

The late stage of Astrakhan's creative work is the films of the 2010s, including "Children" (2013) and "The Game" (2018). In the first film, the director touches on the problem of inaction of the authorities, injustice and popular revenge. The film shows a corrupt society where impunity for committed actions is common, especially if you have money or power. The director is trying to awaken conscience and a sense of responsibility in adults, to make them think about the consequences of the existing order of things. The question in the film is obvious: how should one live — according to conscience or according to the law? As A. Martynova notes, "Astrakhan creates a medium-register cinema that combines universal archetypes and a specific socio-cultural reality" ^[8]. Despite the changes in the structure of production and perception of cinema, the director remains faithful to his task — to show an "ordinary" person in an unstable world, without reducing his moral status. The second film "The Game" raises social and philosophical issues related to truth, lies, and the boundaries of personal freedom. Director Dmitry Astrakhan said that his film is about how difficult it is for a person to take a break, look at his life from the outside and understand what was right and what really should have been changed. The film also touches on the moment when a person can begin to reflect. According to Astrakhan, "The Game" is a film about the truth, and everyone has their own story.

Speaking about the work of Dmitry Astrakhan, it should be noted that he shot most of his films, having created an indestructible long-term creative tandem at the beginning of his creative career. "Playwright Oleg Danilov and composer Alexander Pantykin are not just members of a creative team – they are full–fledged co-authors of Dmitry Astrakhan's films, each in their own field. And we can safely say that if they had not united in a friendly union at one time, Dmitry Khananovich's films would not have found such an emotional and inspiring response in the minds and hearts of the audience" ^[9].

Opponents often point out that in an era of acute socio-political crises, such a "soft" aesthetic loses its artistic relevance, especially against the background of such directors as Balabanov or Zvyagintsev. However, this point of view ignores the importance of cinema as a means of cultural compensation and psychological support. In the context of traumatic transit, Astrakhan's films represent a form of symbolic stabilization: they do not so much depict chaos as create a space of meanings that allow the viewer to experience this chaos without the final loss of integrity.

Thus, Dmitry Astrakhan's work is a unique phenomenon in Russian cinema of the late XX — early XXI century. His films, without pretending to be radical or conceptually new, perform an important cultural function: they capture the human in a changing, mobile, disturbing world. The most notable and striking representative is the film "Everything will be Fine." That is why the appeal to this film in the context of the study of the image of Russia in the 1990s is so important - it embodies not only the image of the era, but also a way to overcome it morally.

Artistic reflection of the social and cultural transformation of Russia in the 1990s in the film "Everything will be Fine"

Dmitry Astrakhan's film "Everything Will be Fine" is a significant example of cinematic reflection on post-Soviet reality. Devoid of direct political allusions, he reveals the image of Russia in the 1990s through the fate of "little people" whose daily lives reflect the scale of the historical catastrophe. The film is based on the story of a couple in love who find themselves in a situation of personal and social choice. A panorama of the era unfolds through the micro-plot, framed by the language of melodrama, everyday realism and symbolic details. Let's look at how the image of Russia is formed in the film through the main aspects of social and cultural transformation.

1. Socio-economic instability

Perhaps the most obvious manifestation of time in the film is the depiction of a systemic social crisis. The characters live in conditions of decline: in communal apartments with collapsed wallpaper, in dormitories converted into housing, among garbage, dullness and dilapidation. The main character, Kolya, works as a factory worker in order to somehow "make ends meet." His beloved, Olya, dreams of a good and decent life, which is why she eventually leaves for America, which becomes a way for her to escape from poverty and hopelessness. These episodes show the gap between work and remuneration, the devaluation of professional and human capital — a characteristic feature of the 1990s, when work ceases to be a source of social stability ^[10].

As the story progresses, we learn that Kolya does not have a dream, a circumstance that indicates the breakdown of the historical perspective. The world he lives in offers neither career growth nor personal fulfillment. This atmosphere corresponded to the mass feeling of the end, the destruction of the way of life, described by V. Pelipenko as the "ontological emptiness of post-Soviet existence" ^[11]. This is confirmed by the landmark episode of the film, in which an old man, retired, dies at the factory entrance from joy and overwhelmed with feelings, from the fact that he will never come to this factory again. Kolya sees all this, and the director, taking a close-up of Kolya's face, makes it clear to the viewer that Kolya is likely to have the same outcome.

2. Cultural and value vacuum

One of the key conflicts of the film unfolds between the desire to preserve moral guidelines and the pressure of the pragmatic, prudent logic of time. The heroine has a choice: to continue her relationship with Kolya, but at the same time get a completely gray life, or choose Petya, with whom life will be much more interesting — these are trips abroad, communication with interesting people, and a life without worries. A sense of duty prevents Olya from making the right choice. She doesn't love Kolya so much as she doesn't want to betray him. But she loves Petya, but she doubts it, because she understands that for Petya she is an ordinary girl who can be abandoned at any moment and find a new one.

The film does not contain open ideological declarations, but the narrative space is structured in such a way that the viewer is faced with a moral choice: follow the logic of cynicism or trust his feelings. As N. Zakharov rightly points out, "in the absence of ideology, emotional truth becomes the main way to assess what is happening" ^[12]. The opposite point of view is presented, for example, in the works of L. Kagansky, who reproaches the cinema of the 1990s for the loss of analytical principles and excessive sentimentality ^[13]. However, it is precisely this "sentimental" approach that allows Astrakhan's film to achieve the effect of sincerity and empathy.

3. Family and interpersonal relations as a micromodel of society

In the film, love and relationships are not opposed to social reality, but, on the contrary, are deeply embedded in it. Kolya and Olya's relationship is built against the background of life upheavals, poverty, betrayal and mutual doubts. The family as a potential island of stability is constantly under threat: Olya is trying to "find her place" with Petya in America, Kolya — through the silent acceptance of fate. However, the final letter to Kolya from Olya in America looks like an act of personal victory over the era. In this sense, as S. Lurie writes, "melodrama becomes a form of resistance.": it restores human-to-human connection in a world of broken ties" ^[14]. All this demonstrates how feelings become the only bulwark in a world of broken structures.

4. Urban space as a metaphor of an epoch

The visual series of the film constantly emphasizes the chaos and meaninglessness of the surrounding world. Streets, courtyards, communal rooms — all spaces are disorienting, do not give a sense of comfort or belonging. The interiors are built on the aesthetics of decadence: peeling walls, dim light, cheap furniture. Even scenes in nature carry an unsettling, uncomfortable feeling. Thus, the space in the film is not just a background, but an expression of the cultural crisis, as M. Pavlyuchenko says: "The city in post—Soviet cinema becomes an allegory of anxiety, a premonition of the end, a rejection of the future" ^[15].

5. The little man and his fate

The central character, Kolya, is a typical "little man" of the era. He does not rebel, does not protest, does not make claims — he survives. His dignity lies not in social success, but in his ability to preserve humanity. Even when he finds out about Olya's betrayal, he still continues to love. His silence and passivity is not a weakness, but a form of moral fortitude.

Astrakhan, like the classics of Russian literature, elevates the figure of the "little man" to the level of a moral hero. This tradition comes into conflict with the ideas of the "hero of time" as a man of action and success, widespread in the mass discourse of the 1990s.

6. Gender and role transformations

The film focuses on changing gender roles. Men (Kolya, neighbors, colleagues) are shown as vulnerable, confused, drunk or drunk and have lost their authority. Women, on the contrary, are forced to take the initiative: Kolya's mother is the domineering and energetic commandant of the hostel, Tamara is a caring mother who pulls on her alcoholic husband, Verka is the devoted girlfriend of the musician Karelov. These changes are not presented with pathos, but they are becoming an important part of the new gender landscape of Russia in the 1990s.

This turn is perceived by many researchers as one of the key reflections of the post—Soviet transformation - the erosion of the patriarchal code and the emergence of hybrid behaviors ^[16].

7. Language, intonation and symbolism of the epoch

The dialogues of the film are based on everyday language, devoid of pathos. However, there is a place for the philosophical in this everyday world: phrases about life, fate, and loneliness sound in the mouths of the characters not as a cliche, but as a genuine confession. The symbolism of the film — dilapidated buildings, dirty windows, ruined roads — supports the general motif of scrap and hope.

The title of the film is "Everything will be fine" — ironic and sincere in itself. It sounds like a spell, faith without reason. But it is precisely this faith that becomes the last resource of survival.

8. Death as a metaphor for social trauma

Death plays an important role in the film. The story begins with the death scene of an old man at the factory entrance – the final point in the life of a worker who did not know the happiness of peace and tranquility.

Out of desperation, Kolya is ready to end his life after learning that Olya has cheated on him. A neighbor in the communal apartment advises to keep an eye on Verka so that she "does not commit suicide", suspecting her lover of treason. And the neighbor herself admitted that she had hanged herself three times.

According to A. Lipovetsky, "in post-Soviet culture, the body often becomes a carrier of social criticism: the body carries the memory of destruction" ^[17]. Thus, the theme of death — physical and mental — symbolizes the collective trauma of a transitional time.

9. Motivation of the road and emigration as a reflection of social uncertainty

Olya, leaving for America at the end of the film, finds herself in a situation of choice between staying behind her Homeland and the prospect of living "there", where, in her opinion, stability and a decent existence are possible. Emigration in this case is not a political gesture or an act of conscious abandonment of the country; on the contrary, it acts as a forced reaction to an identity crisis and lack of life guidance. She is leaving the country not because she does not love it, but because in the new realities it has ceased to be a space of hope.

In this context, emigration becomes not so much a geographical choice as an existential one, reflecting deep social fragmentation and loss of confidence in the future within the country. The characters who remain in Russia are often presented as those who have either resigned themselves to the destruction of their former values, or are trying to build a new existence "on the ruins" in an atmosphere of moral disorientation. The departing hero, on the contrary, symbolizes the desire to preserve a sense of dignity and the possibility of self-realization, even at the cost of losing his native environment. Thus, the emigration motif in Astrakhan's film becomes a metaphor for spiritual choice and an indicator of how widespread the social and psychological turbulence of the era was.

At the same time, the film begins and ends with Kolya going to work at the factory. The way to work becomes a circular loop. The main character returns to the starting point not because of overcoming, but because of the collapse of hopes, but at the same time repeating "Everything will be fine." The cyclicity in the film reflects the structure of the "enclosed space" characteristic of post-Soviet culture. As E. writes Dobrenko, "space in the 1990s turns out to be fragmented, disoriented: it does not provide prospects for movement" ^[18].

10. Hope as a form of resistance

The film does not give a "happy ending" in the classical sense - there is no financial success, there is no resolution of problems, but there is a way out — to let go of your beloved, not to betray feelings, to remain devoted to yourself. This position — humanistic and anti—ideological - is the essence of Astrakhan's artistic statement. Therein lies the controversy with opponents who consider such an approach "simplistic" or "sentimental." But in reality, it is precisely this intonation that becomes a form of cultural resistance to an era devoid of meaning.

From all of the above, we can conclude that the film "Everything will be fine" It is a multi-layered artistic statement about Russia in the 1990s. Through ten aspects, from socio—economic instability to hope as a form of resistance, an integral and expressive image of Russia is being formed, devoid of stable guidelines, but retaining the potential of humanistic resistance. Astrakhan offers not an analytical, but a sensual model of comprehending time, in which the fate of the "little man" becomes a reflection of a great historical shift.

Comparative analysis of the image of Russia in the film "Everything will be Fine" and in other social dramas of the 1990s

Dmitry Astrakhan's film "Everything Will be Fine" is a humanistic version of the image of Russia in transition. However, for a deep understanding of this image, it is important to compare it with the artistic models presented in other iconic social dramas of the 1990s.: "Promised Heaven" (dir. Eldar Ryazanov, 1991), "You are my only one" (directed by D. Astrakhan, 1993), "Window to Paris" (directed by Y. Mamin, 1993), "Brother" (directed by A. Balabanov, 1997), "Voroshilov Shooter" (directed by S. Govorukhin, 1999).

The image of the social "bottom" and marginalized communities, vividly expressed in the film "Promised Heaven," becomes a point of intersection with "Everything will be Fine." For Ryazanov, homeless people — former engineers, actors, and scientists — symbolize being "thrown out" of the social body. Astrakhan has workers, old people, former intellectuals in communal apartments — all the same heroes of the collapse, but less satirically aggravated. Both paintings capture trauma, but if Ryazanov's takes on a grotesque form, Astrakhan's takes on a melancholic one. As E. rightly points out. Dobrenko, "the humanism of the 90s becomes a tool for describing a social catastrophe, but not a means of overcoming it" ^[18],[19].

The motif of love as the last stronghold of man connects "Everything will be fine" with another Astrakhan tape, "You are the only one with me." Both films formally fit into the framework of melodrama, but their social content makes them important artistic evidence of the era. The main character of "You're the Only One with Me," like Kolya from "Everything will be Fine," is a man "in transition," under pressure from new rules of the game, in which feelings are devalued. But if "You're the only one with me" ends up losing touch with the past, then "Everything will be fine" — by trying to get her back. This allows us to speak about the more pronounced optimism of the second picture, despite the gloomy circumstances. Thus, Astrakhan in the mid-1990s demonstrates the development of the author's view — from diagnosis to hope.

The image of Russia as a cultural and mental frontier gets an important development in the film.The Window to Paris. The motive of emigration is central to both Mamin's film and Everything Will Be Fine. However, in the "Window to Paris" the West is a fantasy, utopia, cultural shock and the comic impossibility of assimilation. Astrakhan's departure to the USA is an escape from the hopelessness and cyclical nature of what is happening. Thus, Astrakhan stands on a par with Mamin, but his position is less ironic, more poignant and humane. As N. Zorkaya writes, "Russian cinema of the 90s is suitable not so much for analyzing the West as for diagnosing inner emptiness" ^[20].

The motive of cruelty, violence and lynching, which was sharply expressed in "Brother" and"Voroshilovsky arrow", is missing from the Astrakhan film. Balabanov and Govorukhin paint Russia as a territory where morality and law are in a state of collapse, and justice is restored by violence. "Brother" offers a hero who lives by an internal code of honor, but at the same time resorts to murder;"Voroshilovsky Shooter" directly raises the question of the legitimacy of revenge in a broken system. Against this background, "Everything will be fine" looks almost utopian. This position may seem naive, and indeed, some critics ^[21] accused the film of "infantile humanism." However, it is precisely this intonation that opposes the narrative of destruction that was widespread in the 1990s, offering the viewer a different ethical vector.

The aesthetics of everyday life and longing unite all the mentioned films. But in Astrakhan, melancholy does not become darkness: even in the absence of light, there is warmth. His camera captures faces, conversations, and everyday life — as if their very presence were already an affirmation of life. In this sense, he is closer to Ryazanov and Mamin than to Balabanov. Emotional tone of "Everything will be fine" — gentle, compassionate, deeply human. It fits into the line of post-Soviet cinema that L. Geller and M. Nekrich call "cinema experiences, not actions" ^[22].

Thus, "Everything will be fine" It turns out to be a unique work, balancing between tragedy and hope. Unlike most films of its time, it does not bring the image of Russia to complete cynicism or cruelty. Instead, Astrakhan creates a picture in which humanism does not win, but remains. And this is already a form of resistance.

Conclusion

The conducted research allows us to draw a number of reasonable conclusions about the specifics of artistic modeling of the image of Russia in the 1990s in Dmitry Astrakhan's film "Everything will be Fine." As the analysis has shown, this work is not only a private author's interpretation of a complex transitional period, but also an important component of the visual cultural memory of the post-Soviet transformation.

In this study, the tasks set out in the introduction were consistently solved and, accordingly, the goal of the work was achieved.

Unlike most Russian films of the 1990s, which were based on harsh social criticism, an emphasis on violence, criminal aesthetics and the motive of destruction, Astrakhan's film offers a softer, intonationally optimistic, humanistic interpretation of Russian reality. This is manifested in a shift in emphasis from external conflicts to internal, ethical ones, to depict personal choices, interpersonal relationships, and moral stability.

The image of Russia in the film "Everything will be Fine" It appears as an image of a country balancing between hope and confusion, moral decay and the desire to restore humanity. This duality is reflected not only by the plot, but also by the aesthetics of the film itself — chamber-like, filled with intonations of nostalgia, soft irony and subtle tragedy. As Jonathan C. rightly points out. Jonathan Culler, "A film can serve as a cultural mirror, not just reflecting society, but also shaping how it remembers itself." It is in this vein that the painting of Astrakhan should be perceived as an instrument of collective memory, extremely personal and at the same time universal.

It should be emphasized that the humanistic intonation of the film does not exclude criticism at all — on the contrary, it indicates a deep disappointment in social institutions, a painful gap between official rhetoric and real life. However, the author suggests not gloom and aggression as a reaction to the devastation, but an attempt to preserve a human face. This makes Astrakhan's film an exception in the general discourse of "cinema of the nineties" and allows us to consider it as an important ethical guideline against the background of the universal aestheticization of cynicism and violence.

The prospects of this study are to further expand and deepen the analysis of artistic representations of the post-Soviet transformation in Russian cinema in the 1990s and 2000s. In particular, promising areas, in our opinion, may be:

1) A comparative study of the image of post—Soviet Russia in various genres of cinema, from social drama to comedy and melodrama, in order to identify genre strategies for representing the identity crisis, loss of historical landmarks and moral choice;

2) The study of the regional dimension of post-Soviet everyday life in cinema: provincial Russia as an independent semantic space, contrasting with the urban center;

3) Analysis of the changing image of the "little man" in post-Soviet cinema: from a victim of society to an active subject of resistance, understood through ordinary, non-heroic forms of behavior.

All these areas can not only complement the picture of the representation of the 1990s in visual culture, but also contribute to a deeper understanding of the mechanisms of historical memory, social and cultural transformation.

The article is published in the version approved by the reviewers (after receiving a positive review recommending the manuscript for publication) with corrections made by the author (after receiving the editor’s comments, if any).
Read all reviews on this article