Like with anything, the more contact you have with a particular kind of work, the more you come to notice similarities between them. When it becomes to Soviet-era Russian comedies, the pattern is almost always the same – upbeat storylines that place emphasis on the working class (who are truly thrilled to have menial, laborious jobs), resounding praise for the government and their perceived adoration of everything culturally-significant, and a motley crew of characters that are beyond likeable, lacking a single discernible flaw, outside of perhaps an overt tendency to overwork themselves for the sake of getting ahead and showing the delight in being a part of the labour force. Throw in an eccentric senior citizen, and you have the quintessential pro-Soviet comedy, which was enjoyed by citizens at the time (particularly because the chance of them accessing anything else legally was nearly impossible). This all applies wonderfully to the fascinating Be Careful, Grandma! (Russian: Осторожно, бабушка!), which may not be the best Russian comedy of its time, nor one of its more insightful explorations of some fascinating socio-cultural themes – but what it lacks in the more cinematic elements, it makes up for in theory. Less of a film, and more of a historical document that sees dominant ideologies from this era serving as both the foundation and final varnish of the story, Be Careful, Grandma! is an absolutely bewildering film, which is particularly interesting considering how there were legions of alternative, underground filmmakers that attempted to use surrealism as a means to convey a message (normally ones that critiqued the very system this film seemed to be openly celebrating, which creates an artistic dialogue not many nations can boast of having so readily available), which Nadezhda Kosheverova mastered here without even realizing how some of what he was demonstrating through this pro-Soviet work was actually quite counterproductive, creating a bizarre but compulsively watchable comedy that never quite gets to any coherent point, but takes the viewer on such a wild ride, we don’t even notice.

The plot – or what can be extracted as a plot from the wildly disparate threads of narrative – focuses on a young woman (Ariadna Shengelaia), who is an ambitious artist who has a strong passion for the performing arts, to the point where she has somehow overcome governmental bureaucracy to order the building of a new cultural centre, where she can put on shows to impress both politicians and pedestrians alike. Her main companion is her grandmother (Faina Ranevskaya), who seems to spend her days driving recklessly through the narrow streets of their working-class village, and studying the eggs of rare hens, which she seems to care about more than any other living creature. Together, the duo embarks on a series of misadventures that threaten to derail their plans and find them in quite precarious positions, but not without a plan always being kept concealed right up their sleeves, to be employed at just the right moment, especially after resounding the call of sacred patriotism and devotion to their almighty state, which is always watching them and keeping them out of harm’s way, whatever the situation they find themselves in. They’re woven into a narrative featuring a wide array of eccentric characters, including a crew of workers (plucked from every possible demographic in the union) and a pair of easygoing, forest-dwelling scientists who seem to do more horseback riding than they do actual research, all of which show the utopian paradise that can come from a firm commitment to the ideals of the Soviet state, which is shown as not only flawless, but also entirely infallible and sacrosanct, with all problems being resolved by something as simple as a pat on the back and a warm smile, which can solve absolutely any issue, especially those that border on being the difference between life and death.

As cynical as this all sounds, Be Careful, Grandma! is actually an absolute delight – it isn’t the most blatant work of pro-Soviet cinema produced at the time (even when it openly approaches the territory of becoming propaganda), but it also is a complete dismissal of the entire concept of subtlety, almost as if the director was vehemently against the very principle of nuanced storytelling, with his approach being one of directly stating his intentions, and hoping that the audience would be shaped by the message he’s imparting, if they weren’t already entirely on-board with the ideologies he represented. There’s a certain gall that Kosheverova demonstrates here that is worth noting – while critics of the union were narrowly skirting censorship laws through the timeless tools of allusion and illusion, the director of this film, like many of his similarly-minded contemporaries, were far more direct with what they were saying, and make no qualms about the process of articulating exactly what it is they found fascinating. The artistic integrity of a film like this can always be questioned, but it becomes less of a matter of debating whether the ideas in this film were worth our time, and more about how it so cleverly infuses every frame with an intrepid boldness, we simply can’t help but feel curious as to what it was exactly Kosheverova  was attempting to prove with this film. A surface-level analysis will yield the result that this is essentially the story of a young, revolutionary woman struggling to complete what is shown as a very simple project, with her salvation coming in the form of her grandmother, who quite literally bursts onto the scene as a representative of the old guard and their traditions, which are shown to be feisty, steadfast and, most importantly, entirely effective. There are many ways to describe Be Careful, Grandma!, but as a work of carefully-curated satire is certainly not one of them – it’s brash, vulgar and rooted so deeply in archaic ideological beliefs, it becomes less of a film and more of an experience, a glimpse into the most prominent mentalities that governed this era, and the ways in which they manifested, which is almost entirely worth the time on its own.

It’s not particularly great filmmaking, and there are many other Soviet films from this era that do this same material just as much justice (if not more) – but Be Careful, Grandma! has a certain understated charm that just works so exceptionally well, especially when taken in contrast with the real-world events occurring around it. It’s always a tricky conversation to have when it comes to a film like this, since it doesn’t take too much insight to understand precisely how this is celebrating a system we now know was incredibly flawed, and which was the basis for a conflict that lasted over half a century – but yet it doesn’t feel like the propaganda we see reflected in history books and heartwrenching documentaries. Be Careful, Grandma! isn’t necessarily a good film, and its flaws are quite evident – but very few viewers watching it from a contemporary perspective are going to pay too much attention to this, not because it is poorly-made, but rather because there is so much content that occurs on the outskirts of this film, which should undoubtedly dominate discussions. The lengths to which Kosheverova goes to infuse a particularly patriotic message is fascinating in its own right – these pro-state concepts don’t come through hard-hitting, direct assaults on the viewer’s senses, but rather through underhanded, subtle means of presenting them in the form of a lovable grandmother (played by one of the nation’s most revered actresses) and her smiling cohorts, all of which are far too happy chopping wood or hammering in nails to be considered realistic. This may be quite unsettling, and perhaps even outright harmful to those who experienced the supposed utopia presented here – so it isn’t a case of trying to justify this film’s existence, and more a means to critically discuss some of its most prominent themes.

Whether looking at it academically or as a piece of entertainment, there’s very little doubt Be Careful, Grandma! is a worthwhile text. There’s a certain perverse charm that comes in an approach to looking at social matters through a warped cultural lens, creating a hypnotic work of fiction that feels factory-made to the ideological desires of those who were benefitting from the one-state system. Historically, this isn’t the definitive text in any way, serving as much depth as a three-strip comic or brief joke would – but it is a purely contextual work, one that sets the foundation for a fascinating, but highly-contentious, exploration of the dominant principles that persisted throughout this era. However, what makes Be Careful, Grandma! so wonderful is that it doesn’t have to be perceived in this way – it’s just as relevant to look at it as an upbeat story of ordinary people finding themselves in strange situations, bouncing from one misadventure to the other. Both sides are equally compelling, and make for quite a riveting watch – although a word of warning should go out to all those attempting to wade into this side of Soviet filmmaking, since Be Careful, Grandma! is such a bewildering work that requires some understanding of how this era of artistry operated, so it may not be the best introduction, despite the appearance of accessible subject matter and a very endearing premise. As a whole, this is a film worth seeking out for those with a taste for the absurd, because it constantly gives us a direct glimpse into the machinations of pro-Soviet art, and while it may be inadvertent, makes quite a case for an in-depth discussion on broader historical issues, which are somehow woven into this film and gradually unearthed as the film plods along. It’s a very strange film, but one absolutely in need of some more attention, since it may not be boldly revolutionary filmmaking, but it is filmmaking about some bold revolutionaries, and the lingering aftermath of their movement that made such a bizarre work possible.