Tuda

I just watched "Tuda" by Ivan Petukhov and loved how it blends warmth and whimsy. I ride shotgun with Vera, a free-spirited actress, while Vadim, the taciturn taxi driver, guides us through five scenic towns from Moscow to Ufa-1500 km of chemistry, quiet revelations, and subtle laughs. The vibe is sunlit, cozy, with indie-tinged soundtrack that feels perfectly on point for Vera's mood and the road-trip rhythm.

Worth watching? Absolutely. Yes, for its charm, scenic fairy-tale summer journey, and subtle emotional beats - it's refreshingly tender.

Why do I dislike Russian films and avoid them? The answer is simple: sometimes the first two minutes are enough to reveal so much "quality content" and illogical nonsense that all desire to continue watching simply vanishes.

1. Product Placement. Right from the start, we're hit with blatant integrations for Yandex Go and the Chery Tiggo 7 Pro Max, which haunt the viewer throughout the entire film. Granted, one might eventually get used to Russian cinema force-feeding us ads in nearly every frame-but that doesn't justify it.

2. Character Motivation. The taxi driver (Pyotr Fyodorov) accepts an order, arrives at the address, and only after a girl with a pile of suitcases gets into his car does he "suddenly" check the destination. Lo and behold-Ufa! Are we to believe he hadn't seen the order earlier? Apparently, the sum was so dazzling he forgot to look at the map. He tries to refuse ("I probably won't go, it's too far and too long"), but after hesitating for 30 seconds, he changes his mind. No explanation. Just because the plot demands it.

3. The Genius Passenger. The girl (Irina Starshenbaum) is a perfect match for him. She orders a taxi for a 1,330-kilometer trip but doesn't answer the driver's call because "I don't answer unknown numbers." Later, you realize this is a character trait-and the screenwriters see no issue with it.

A logical question arises: why did I even finish this movie? It's simple: lately, I've watched several films with similar plots where a driver takes a passenger from point A to point B, and various events happen along the way-often without even leaving the car. After exhausting all known options on the topic, I stumbled upon Tuda ("There"). Maybe it was advertised to me by Kinopoisk; I don't even remember how I found out about it. I thought: "Why not see what we've managed to produce, or as they say, 'how we responded to the West'?" Truth is, I forgot that Kinopoisk ratings are often inflated, and expectations for such projects should be low.

Cinematography and Music The cinematography isn't bad overall, but everything is relative. On a global scale, it's average or slightly below average. In the Russian context, it's probably closer to decent. At least the cinematographer tried to make it visually appealing.

The music is also a mixed bag. Not outright terrible, so that's something. Although at times, the choices were so jarring that I wanted to fast-forward or mute the sound. These tracks clashed with the already lacking atmosphere, further undermining the film's weak impression. The only song worth praising is "Mikhey & Jumanji - Tuda" during the end credits-though I'd hate for such a classic to be associated with this movie.

Acting and Chemistry This is where the film's weakest link lies. There's no chemistry between the leads. Individually, the actors look fine on screen, and the characters aren't poorly written. Occasionally, they even seem to click-but it's merely an illusion. Watching them, you feel absolutely nothing. Zero. Random strangers off the street would've shown more genuine emotion than this cheap theatrics. Everything feels forced and unnatural, like watching a rough rehearsal where actors are still getting comfortable and reading lines off cue cards.

Taken separately, Pyotr Fyodorov generally handles his role well. Irina Starshenbaum, however, often comes across as wooden. There are moments where Fyodorov falls short too, though he clearly could've done better-it's glaringly obvious. In the end, he underperforms in places, while she barely acts at all.

The only good moment between them is when Fyodorov's character jokes back at Irina in response to her constant teasing. It's the first and last conflict that felt somewhat believable. Yes, it was quickly brushed aside, but at least it was a positive moment in an otherwise dull stretch.

Paradoxically, Fyodorov's on-screen parents (Aleksey Serebryakov and Yevgeniya Dobrovolskaya) share more chemistry in their mere ten minutes of screen time than the leads do throughout the entire film. They look and act together organically. Their apartment, meticulously designed, radi warmth and coziness. It's the first thing that feels genuine and unforced.

Script and Ending The encounter with the character Azamat is utterly pointless. It serves only to pad the runtime and contributes nothing to character or plot development. Just unnecessary, contrived drama.

Typically, in such films, characters reveal themselves gradually through new events and information. Here, we learn something substantial about them only in two key moments-and even that info is superficial, adding little for either the viewer or the characters themselves. No development follows. Throughout the film, episodes end abruptly, barely having begun. Conflicts, dialogues, interactions-everything fizzles out almost immediately. The entire movie leaves the same impression: you've spent time but still don't know on what, since it ended before it ever really began.

And then there's the classic fairy-tale ending. It clashes completely with everything that came before. Of course, everyone knew from the start how it would end, but here it's so forced-"because melodramas need happy endings." It's unjustified and never shown on screen. The characters undergo zero evolution: they remain exactly as they were at the beginning. Everything is engineered for a happy ending, lest the film feel less "bright."

Incidentally, I found neither the promised comedy (where was I supposed to laugh?) nor the melodrama (only shoehorned in at the end). I'd have believed it more as a straight drama. This material could've made a solid dramatic story.

Perhaps the script looked better on paper, but the execution is extremely weak. Tuda could've been a truly beautiful, vivid, and memorable film-especially given the number of sponsors and ads. But apparently, as always, everything went off track.

After this film, one can only hope that someday we'll finally make a great road movie. The first attempts are already there. Now we just need to learn from these mistakes. Maybe before shooting their own road movie, filmmakers should study global cinema first-then tackle their own. But, as they say, the director knows best.