|
Russian intellectual football
|
|
|
|
 A hard-knock game of comic proportions.
|
By Sasha Vasilyuk / Brooklyn and Philadelphia
Photographed by Dmitriy Chernov
|
|
Sunday, February 4, 2007 |
|
Page 2 of 3
 The Illegals on stage during the “Homework.”
KVN for breakfast
Less than two weeks before the game, Ruslan is having breakfast with Alexei at a Russian restaurant in Brooklyn. A rowdy group of men drink vodka and argue about yesterday’s hockey game. It is noon. As they wait for a steak, chicken livers, and apple blintzes, Ruslan explains that he has been playing KVN since he was 13.
“I even remember the first joke I had to say,” he declares, his blue eyes gleaming. “We had this scene: an ad for Aeroflot. The guy looked out the window and said ‘Oh, look, flying elephants.’ And I took his glass away and said ‘OK, that’s enough for you.’”
“You ripped!” says Alexei mockingly as he digs into his steak.
“When I first started, I didn’t write my own jokes and didn’t really act on stage,” continues Ruslan. “I learned how to write jokes, how to feel the text. So, KVN is not about talent, but experience.”
“I had talent, but I’ve killed it working with these guys,” remarks Alexei with a sigh. “People told me to go into acting.”
“Well, people told me that, too,” offers Ruslan defensively.
“No, no, they lied. Besides, I was the one who told you that,” retorts Alexei. “Anyway, I didn’t want to go to acting school, because I like it as a hobby, not as a profession. I’ve always played the role of a fool and an actor is more than just one character of a fool. My first role ever was to play a fool, and then the second, and the third, and it stuck. But I sort of act like a fool in life, too. Maybe that’s why this role is easier for me.”
Alexei, who became a KVNshik when he entered university in Russia, thinks he should quit competing after this season. “This game is for the young,” says the 25 year-old. “I need to quit soon. I am way too old and KVN takes away so much time.”
“It takes away health, too, since we need to drink a lot,” interrupts Ruslan.
“Time and nerves,” finishes Alexei, who goes to college and keeps a night job at a Russian T.V. station.
“A great classic once said that KVN is not a game, it’s a lifestyle. Of course, no one knows what that means, but it sounds beautiful,” says Ruslan. He turns more serious and adds, “Someone who once participated in the games, I mean like fully — writing, acting and stuff — cannot just quit.”
Alexei doesn’t want to dwell on the serious.
“Anyway, to come back to talking about talent,” he says. “Me and him play pretty much all the roles. Wait, what the hell do those two do?”
“Well, one is a redhead, so if something goes wrong, we can always blame him.”
“He also makes great tea.”
“Yeah. And the other one, Semyon, he is just a nice Jewish boy who doesn’t do much.”
“Every team needs to have one, you know,” concludes Alexei.
Carving a niche between two cultures
In Russia and many former Soviet nations, every KVNshik nurtures the hope of becoming a celebrity. But in the U.S., where an independent KVN league started ten years ago, stardom is out of the question. Although in format and style the American KVN league mirrors the High league of Russia, it does not have millions of fans. Due to the nature of immigration, the teams sponsor themselves, auditoriums rarely fill up to capacity, and only a few KVN games make it onto a local Russian T.V. channel.
However, the enthusiasm of local KVNshiks like the Illegals makes them stand out among the mass of Russian immigrants. They do not resemble the majority of older Russian-Americans, who, having left the old country for good, severed all ties with modern Russia. They are also not like many younger Russians, who grew up in the U.S. and know little about their country of origin.
Instead, the comedians grew up in the post-Soviet Russia of endless possibilities and emigrated not because they had to, but because they could. They are media-savvy children of globalization – in their spare time, they browse Russian websites and watch Russian satellite TV. Unlike some immigrants who are completely detached from the life of a cold country thousands of miles away, young KVNshiks often exist in a strange niche between here and there. On the one hand, they have Russian friends, Russian wives, Russian vodka. On the other, they are integrated in American society – they graduate from schools like Harvard, Berkeley, and NYU and work as programmers, businessmen, or lawyers.
But living in this niche, American KVNshiks find themselves at a disadvantage. Surrounded by a different culture, they have neither the structural and financial support enjoyed by Russia’s nationally televised KVN nor the possibility to achieve true stardom as Russian-speaking comedians. In fact, even their humor reflects their unique situation. To entertain their small immigrant audience, they often turn to localized jokes about the immigrant experience, be it Brooklyn restaurants or linguistic mix-ups.
When he first saw American KVN, Alexei thought it was very amateur. “Three years ago it was just horrible,” he remembers. “The favorite theme was when a dude dressed up like a woman, came out on stage and said something. The first time I saw that, I realized that you can’t perform here. But everything has been changing and looking more like the real thing. If there are no young teams who want to compete, there can be no KVN. What would be left are the older teams. They are nice guys and their humor may be fine for this audience, but they are not helping KVN evolve. We need more young teams, especially guys from back home.”
With their experience from “back home,” the Illegals are trying to raise the level of the American league by bringing humor that is both poignant and not immigrant-specific. Their other choice would be to give up KVN completely. But even with this amateur league and a limited audience, playing KVN is worth their time. It is a tradition, a form of identity, and a way to preserve their culture.
“We can spend a whole evening talking about KVN and not even notice it,” says Alexei. “It has become part of our lifestyle.”
|
|
Last Updated ( Sunday, February 11, 2007 )
|
|
|
channels 
