Tosya Kislitsyna (Nadezhda Rumyantseva) is a young woman sent to a logging camp somewhere in the Russian countryside, where she’ll be working as the cook for the employees. A feisty and strong-willed individual Tosya is not one to settle for what she doesn’t believe she deserves, so she naturally begins to make quite an impression, gaining as many admirers as she does adversaries. One such rival is Ilya (Nikolai Rybnikov), an arrogant young worker who feels emasculated by his recent dethroning as the most productive member of the camp, and thus goes in search of some way to assert his dominance. His logical victim is the combative Tosya, who proves to be quite a formidable opponent, openly mocking him in front of his friends,which only angers him more. He decides to place a bet with some of his fellow employees that he will be able to make her fall in love with him within a week – everyone else is very reluctant to believe this is possible, since both of them seem so incompatible, and Tosya doesn’t appear like someone who will surrender her heart very quickly, especially not to someone she has publicly shown nothing but contempt towards. However, it becomes something of a challenge to Ilya, who does his best to charm her, and is shocked to discover that it actually worked – only to realize that his own feelings towards her have grown in the process. Now that they’re firmly in love with one another, can the truth be revealed, for the sake of the honesty that they both cherish? If so, what consequences will there be when it’s made clear their entire romance was built on nothing but a vengeful bet? They start to question whether or not true love can ever thrive in such situations, and the extents to which it can be real or merely a construction.

Devchata (Девчата) is quite a wonderful film for numerous reasons. On the surface, it delivers exactly what it promises, functioning as a charming romantic comedy that is entirely authentic and brimming with exuberance and youthful glee, enough to distract from the more derivative premise that has been seen in some form, both before and after this film’s production. Helmed by Yuri Chulyukin, who constructed one of the most eccentric Soviet-era comedies of this period, and produced with a kind of sincerity that makes it a great successor to the screwball comedies that had been produced in previous decades on the other side of the world, Devchata (translated as a more informal term for “the girls”, which fits in well with the easygoing simplicity of the film as a whole) is such an absolute delight in every conceivable way. Part of its success comes in how it refuses to take itself all that seriously – Chulyukin knows the confines of the romantic comedy enough to have the good sense to not promise too much, but the deft ability to provide us exactly what we desire from a story like this, a solid and heartwarming piece that effortlessly blends bold comedy with soaring romance, creating an unforgettable experience that may venture into territory all of us may know very well from other romantic comedies of which this is a firm constituent (and in the process know exactly where the story is heading), but which still plasters a genuine grin on the face of every viewer, who will doubtlessly be captivated by the director’s masterful control of the genre, and his immense fascination with a subject that often tends to be mass-produced without nearly a fraction of the heartfulness that Chulyukin brings to this film – and that ultimately makes all the difference.

There really isn’t all that much to dissect about Devchata – even the conversations one normally tends to have about Soviet-era art (especially comedy films) seem out of place, since this film is remarkably apolitical, with the exception of the fact that there is some minor USSR-centric commentary, such as a memorable moment where a character is told “in a cafeteria line and bank, everyone is equal” (and the fact that the action takes place in what is essentially a summer camp revolving around manual labour), and is instead more interested in having discussions on more personal issues, such as the boundaries of romance, which Chulyukin explores so wonderfully throughout this film, employing some familiar ideas, which never neglecting to do a few things differently along the way. This creates the sensation of a film that feels simultaneously very traditional (but not hackneyed), and incredibly inventive, which is always something of an accomplishment on its own. Devchata has the warmth and humility of a very straightforward romantic comedy, but with the jagged edge of something more subversive and modern, which makes it quite an experience on its own, and a film that should be just as refreshing and entertaining today as it was nearly sixty years ago, when it was first produced. A great comedy is one that speaks both to the sensibilities around the place and time of its production, but also resonates with audiences with both contemporary and international perspectives – and even though it is very simple, the themes at the heart of Devchata are timeless and universally understood, which is simply another step towards proving what an absolute marvel this film is, both in terms of its main ideas and the masterful ways in which the director evokes these themes in a substantial but still thoroughly pleasant manner.

In all areas that it purports to explore – comedy, romance, socio-cultural commentary – Devchata is a rousing success. It achieves all of this through an easygoing charm that really permeates throughout and sets the audience at ease. This is an exceptionally simple film – it never really wants to be anything other than what it proposes at the start, and while this may definitely be seen as slight for those in the audience looking for something a bit more challenging and profound, it works very well for anyone seeking just an effervescent comic odyssey that feels both profound and beautifully simple.  Chulyukin does so exceptionally well with the material – he navigates some interesting ideas, and shows us a side of life that isn’t often represented in such a way (one of the most valuable aspects of watching Devchata is how the director presents us with a glimpse into one aspect of the culture that many of us would not be aware of – whether or not this is taken from reality or simply some utopian view of Soviet ideals remains to be seen) and gives us brief but memorable access into a culture that is often impenetrable. This isn’t a film that tries to say much, and it could be frustrating to those expecting a series of satirical jabs at the establishment, since this is very clearly a work produced to be aligned with the major tenets of the country’s politics – but this is never an issue, since Devchata is such a delightful film that distances itself from these conversations so well, it barely even registers. Ultimately, this film is an absolute delight – charming, daring and beautifully romantic, it’s a wonderful little discovery that may not be particularly unique, but is solid and interesting enough to be an enjoyable comedy about ordinary people living through regular lives, but in a way that is just so beautifully captivating in every way.