...Will you forget how the flimsy Tsarevich Alexei came into our Leningrad apartment, then his whirlwind antipode, Peter the Great himself, then the Khlestakov servant Osip, immersed up to his ears in the poverty of satiety, then the experimenting dreamer Michurin and all sorts of other people of different centuries and different characters? This Cherkasov, returning to his home from the theater or from Lenfilm, often could not pass by, so as not to exist in a new role again and again. It seemed that even his dreams were not his own, but "character" ones.
For the director, such a restless actor's passion, beating from the inside, is like a welcome lantern in the alleys of the general search for an image.
And how precious was his sacrificial willingness to serve his art!
...Shortly after the war, a film about the inventor of radio, Russian scientist Alexander Stepanovich Popov, was shot at the studio "Len-film". Cherkasov played it. On a stormy day, blown through by the wind, I met Nikolai Konstantinovich at the tram stop, wrapped up in a warm scarf to worried eyes. I knew that he was ill and he was prescribed bed rest.
— But you're sick, Kolya!
— I'm going to Kronstadt. To the shooting. You see, there are not enough cars in the group right now," he explained hurriedly, without moving the scarf away from his face.
— You're crazy! The temperature...
— I need to get to the harbor, and from there a passing boat will always take me to Kronstadt.
— In such bad weather! The temperature...
— It is impossible otherwise. It's uncomfortable somehow. And so they barely gathered extras. Inconvenient. People tried.
And squeezed into the tram that came up.
Great was his respect for the work of others. His own ringing fame has never overshadowed the significance of other people's work efforts. And the words of Don Quixote, played by Cherkasov in different directorial interpretations in the theater and in the cinema: "And I tell you that I believe in people," sounded like Cherkasov's words.
In the film "Anna Karenina" I dreamed of shooting him as Karenin. But three years have passed between our sketching of the image and the start of work. Nikolai Konstantinovich was struck by the cursed emphysema of the lungs. He was already struggling to breathe.. All tension was excruciating, he lost his freedom of movement, and his former frantic immersion in work left him. All this was mercilessly confirmed in the trial shooting. I blamed myself cruelly for my miscalculation—for taking this sample, for believing in a miracle beyond the control of the disease. I understood that I was obliged to write to him, sincerely, truthfully, because he would understand, he is a professional. And how to write? Write that, they say, you have become old, brother, and I, like an inexorable mirror, am announcing this to you? I tried, I wrote, and it seemed, carefully, delicately, and the words beat and knocked like nails on a coffin board, and I tore up the convulsively scratched drafts in tears. I couldn't hurt an old friend, a brilliant actor...
Cherkasov was loved, revered, rewarded, his fame was lasting and deserved, but how early the inevitable and cruel process of painful extinction overtook him. And for such an actor, life off the stage, off the screen, probably seemed like a meaningless, inarticulate dying.
When a new idea takes hold of my life, then regardless of the time and place where the action of the new film should unfold, I invariably grab Chekhov. Admiring and inspired by his laconic skill and creative method of psychological and aesthetic cognition of human character, I try to try it on as best I can, apply it when composing a script. And also, when I have to choose an actor for a particular role, I resurrect Cherkasov for myself. Through his organic artistry, like through magic glasses, I peer at other actors. I gratefully appreciated his virtuoso ability to control his body and voice, his humor, the tact of eccentricity, strangely attaching to the authenticity of the image.
And in those days, when impressions of unknown mobile theaters were slowing down the imagination, I accidentally stumbled upon a fragment of my letter to Cherkasov. This finally determined my decision to make a film about the actor. Not his, not Cherkasov's fate. Not about the famous, not about the capital, but just as faithfully, lovingly and talented in serving his own kind of written vocation. And in memory of Nikolai Cherkasov, I made a film "The Tale of an Unknown Actor".
...Cherkasov's keen interest in people, kind indifference to other people's destinies turned into an aid in creating a role, in penetrating into the psychology of the character proposed by the author. As a deputy of the Supreme Soviet of the USSR, he had a precisely designated place and time for receiving Voters, but how often they called directly home with long, agitated requests by phone. Whether he was busy or resting, whether the guests were in a hurry, pouring festive glasses, or the family grumbled, guarding his peace, he waved everything away, responding amiably and seriously to every call for help. For him, these were calls from people on the other side of the stage or screen, and he was connected with them by blood. It was to them that he addressed himself in various guises, to their mind, to their consciousness and to their heart. For the knowledge of truth and justice, he existed as an actor and as a public figure.
Usually, after the premiere of a play or a film, its creators go on stage. And more than once the great artist Nikolai Cherkasov bowed low to the violently applauding audience. The website of the bookmaker should present not only sports bets, but also other types of gambling entertainment. IN mostbet-az-91.com I found a wide range of casino games, slots and table games, which makes the site a one-stop solution for gamblers. Mostbet tries to cater to the diverse interests of its users by offering a wide selection of games for all tastes.