(2 of 2)
Quality in domestic cinema is gradually reasserting itself. "There was a time when scriptwriting in Russia went away because there were no features," says Heth. Monumental has produced two movies and has four more in preproduction. Drawing on Sony's resources in script development and production has helped raise the level of storytelling and overall professionalism. "Russian talent is every bit as good as anywhere else," says Heth. "They just don't have the experience yet."
What Russia does have is money. Many in the oligarch class have achieved the kind of stability and self-assurance required to relinquish their much-guarded privacy and enter this very public sphere as investors and producers. Entering the offices of Igor Desyatnikov in central Moscow, visitors are obliged to pass through a metal detector, then withstand the menacing stares of several bodyguards. Desyatnikov himself sits behind a large walnut-topped desk, a colonel's sheepskin hat resting on a far corner. Desyatnikov made his fortune in the sale of a private bank in 2004, and he heads an investor group that is putting up roughly $15 million for You and I. He also acts in the movie, playing a rogue named Ivan. Desyatnikov has appeared in several Russian-language movies. He also fronts a rock band, owns a few dairy-products factories, and hosts an outdoor nightclub that features drag racing. "This is my first international experience," he says, running a hand over his shaven head. "I guess I'll never come back to Russian movies. For me, as an investor, it's not interesting. Any guy in the world dreams of being involved in American movies." This is the great exchange: Hollywood cachet for the right to till these new fields of Russian wealth. But the ground can be treacherous. Hollywood producer and consultant Robert Cain spent several years working in Moscow, and though he has hopes for the future, he has little positive to say about the current state of Russian moviemaking. "Russians seems to be good at bringing knowledgeable people to Russia and then ignoring every bit of wisdom they offer up," he says. "And corruption is just an enormous obstacle. A contract in Russia is essentially worthless. If someone decides to misbehave, you have little chance to bring a lawsuit."
Beyond the threat of corruption and bribery, there are countless examples of cultural disconnection. Steven Nemeth, an American producer on You and I, is a veteran Hollywood filmmaker who served as a producer on Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas and Dogtown and Z-Boys. On this, his first job in Russia, Nemeth had great hopes of engineering an environmentally friendly production. "I got laughed out of the building," he says. "They don't even have places to take recycling." The foreign director of photography on another film became frustrated with the Russian crew and resorted to ethnic insults; soon after, an object fell from the set and hit him on the head, convincing him that someone on the crew was plotting to kill him. Joffé, for his part, showed up to work one day to find that a building in which he planned to shoot had been razed. "You just have to dig in and take the system on on your own terms." Joffé says. "It's quixotic. But if it's not, then you're not making a movie."
At dusk one evening, after shooting has finished for the day, the crew and producers gather for drinks against the red-brick colossus of an abandoned beer factory. A white-haired musician in a Hawaiian shirt plays classic rock. "There is going to be a lot of competition here in the future," Nemeth says. "New money typically wants glory. And there's plenty of new money here. With all due respect to this great city and this great culture, the reason to make movies here — it's the money." Just then, one of the Russian grips goes over the edge of drunkenness, proceeding to attack a nearby parked car. Several of his colleagues attempt to restrain him, but the man is so large that it takes a dozen of them to tackle him to the ground. The grip continues his fight, and after 10 minutes, he is roaming free in his underwear, searching for battle. Nemeth looks on as all of this transpires. "Has it been tough?" he asks. "Yeah. Would I do it again? Definitely."
The big man is on the ground again, but he has the upper hand, flipping one of his colleagues to the blacktop and battering his face with repeated blows. Nemeth darts for the pileup, yelling in indignation, trying to break it up. No one else seems to care, and a Rolls-Royce, painted gold, cruises silently by the set.