Over time, one of the greatest joys of my journey into the world of cinema was realizing how Russia is responsible for some of the greatest films of all time – and we aren’t even discussing the likes of Eisenstein and Tarkovsky, who have been universally canonized as tremendous filmmakers. Instead, I’m referring to the countless directors who worked to produce comedies, which have proven to be some of the most refreshing and entertaining ever made. The only reason some of these films aren’t considered true classics in terms of global perspectives of comedy is quite likely the case of them simply not being that widely-seen, many of them being obscured by layers of time and the fact that attention was just not given to these films. Therefore, I’ve always been a steadfast advocate for recognizing the remarkable work done by several prominent Russian filmmakers, since not only does it give these wildly original and undeniably funny works the exposure they need, but it also opens up a world of possibilities for viewers as they are introduced to the wealth of remarkable films produced by some genuinely brilliant filmmakers. Amongst them is Leonid Gaidai, who is certainly the most significant name if we are discussing Soviet-era comedies – a classically trained director who happened to do almost all of his best work in the genre of outrageous, off-the-wall comedies, he has been a steadfast representative of the depths of Russian humour for so many decades, but yet remains relatively unknown to outsiders. He made several absolute masterpieces, but the ones that have stood the test of time the best are those that feature the character of Shurik, the second of which is the subject of the present conversation. Kidnapping, Caucasian Style (Russian: Кавказская пленница, или Новые приключения Шурика) features Aleksandr Demyanenko as the delightfully awkward Shurik, this time following his misadventures in the Caucus mountains, in which he gets embroiled in a bizarre kidnapping plot – and for every bit of off-kilter humour, we find a genuinely charming and bitingly funny satire that proves that even with the most simple of premises, Gaidai was a true master.

What makes these films so endearing is how simple they were – most of them clock in at under 90 minutes, has a splendid blend of slapstick comedy and satirical humour (and thus will appeal to those with a wide range of tastes, since it never settles on only one kind of humour, casting an extraordinarily wide net and covering every conceivable base) and usually a couple of songs thrown in to keep audiences entertained and contribute to the wide appeal that these films held for Soviet-era audiences. They are so exceptionally entertaining, we can even excuse the often blatant attempts at inserting bold-faced propaganda into the stories, since spotting the attempts to promote the USSR and agenda, while never all that obvious in Gaidai’s films, are entertaining enough on their own, granted one has a sense of humour and can contextualize this film within a wider artistic space, which is important when looking at any satire, whether past or present – these are films produced to convey a message, so finding these themes in a film such as this can actually be quite enjoyable. Kidnapping, Caucasian Style is a very simple film with a premise that would be seen as dreadfully predictable had it not been surrounded by some of the most delightfully chaotic imagery possible. It’s the reason behind the film being quite successful, even if it doesn’t reach the same heights as some of his previous films (and there is an argument to be made that this was only commissioned to capitalize on the success of the previous entry into the series), and for 80 solid minutes, we sit in a state that is somewhere between awe-inspired admiration and unquestionable amusement as we see these characters make their way through a very strange and unconventional version of the world, which is a credit to the director’s endless imagination and ability to construct entire stories from the most paltry material, and still have them be wildly entertaining on their own terms.

However, despite my admiration for Gaidai and my thorough enjoyment of this film, Kidnapping, Caucasian Style is certainly not perfect, and it does pale in comparison to its predecessor. However, this is not indicative of a lack of quality or even that notable of a criticism, since Operation Y and Shurik’s Other Adventures is one of the most flawless comedies ever produced and a film that has only gotten more hilarious as time has gone on, so it is singularly impossible to even attempt to draw correlations between that piece of absolute perfection and this delightful and irreverent comedy, especially since they both have their unique strengths – and Gaidai was smart enough to know that even when making a sequel to a wildly successful film, the key to ensuring that it does well is by refusing to retread the previous material in a way that the follow-up will be seen as a cheap knock-off, and instead he approaches it from a slightly different perspective, retaining certain elements that were proven to be adored by audiences originally, but using them in different ways. This does mean that Kidnapping, Caucasian Style loses some of the edges that defined the previous film (especially since this is a single narrative, as opposed to the anthology structure of the previous film, meaning that it needed to focus on telling a story that is capable of holding our attention for much longer than the smaller segments of the earlier film), but it also proves to be a tremendous experiment in terms of narrative structure and detail, especially when Gaidai is essentially forced to balance both the storyline with bombastic visuals and an endless stream of comedic moments, each one contributing to the growing sense of narrative anarchy that propels most of the film, and consolidates Gaidai as a genius of the medium, someone who could string together a few disparate concepts and turn them into a surreal and wildly entertaining adventure that feels both authentic and earnest, in equal measure.

There is not a single moment in these 80 minutes in which the director is not compressing dozens of visual and narrative jokes into every frame – and while it can be overwhelming for those who are not seasoned when it comes to these kinds of films, it becomes incredibly entertaining once you are able to get a grasp on the narrative and style of the film, and understand that this wall-to-wall absurdity is exactly what propelled these films to the status of cherished classics, especially in an era as bleak and harrowing as the Soviet era. Without getting too involved in an analysis of the social and cultural context in which this film was made, it’s obvious that this was a work designed to spark joy and create a situation where viewers could be entertained, obviously taking into account the draconian nature of the political system that censored anything seen as even vaguely contradictory to their cause – and there is a certain admirable quality, especially since Gaidai was never outright guided by the fact that his films needed to ultimately convey the governmental party line, but rather inserted them into the narrative in creative ways, so as not to distract from the actual story, which is what audiences were interested in seeing. There’s a distinction we need to make when it comes to these films – a pro-Soviet comedy can be tremendously interesting and entertaining, granted it has nuance and doesn’t spend too much of its time hammering in themes that distract from the storyline, which don’t always need to refer back to the broader political context. If anything, Gaidai found the perfect balance, and considering Kidnapping, Caucasian Style is more about the culture than it is any political issues, it’s not difficult to view this as a much better film than suggested by those who actively avoid celebrating films like this as intriguing works that function as both terrific comedies and striking historical documents. Satire is not always designed to be comfortable, nor is it supposed to be objective – some of them are hopelessly dated, but when you have a director as assured as Gaidai at the helm, it actually can become excellent art at the same time.

For every derisive comment that claims that Russian cinema is dense, dour and humourless, there is a film like Kidnapping, Caucasian Style, which proves this could not be further from the truth, and that the perception that Russian art is overly long and miserable is a misconception, especially since some of the funniest and most captivating comedies ever made were produced under Soviet rule. Whether works produced in favour of the government or actively against it (which were more commonly found towards the end of the USSR, the artistic contributions made by artists against Communist rule actively played a part in toppling the regime, but that’s another discussion entirely), there are some terrific and very effective comedies produced at this time that managed to be insightful, funny and (most importantly) drawn from a place of profound complexity, almost as if the suggestion of combining social commentary with outrageous humour was an active challenge for the director. There is a reason Gaidai is called the “King of Soviet Comedy” – no one was ever able to make films at the level that he was, and it is very likely that every successful comedy produced during this era was either made by him or inspired by his work, whether by his peers or newcomers who believed that imitation is the best form of flattery. In terms of both narrative and visual scale, Kidnapping, Caucasian Style is an exceptional work, a charming and bitingly funny comedy with a jagged edge and a lot of heart, and while it may not be particularly serious, it has enough heart and humour to make up for a few narrative shortcomings, all of which are invaluable to the experience of seeing the world through the director’s very unique and profoundly captivating vision.