“Topi” – In the depths of Russia
For those who are passionate about truly harsh works depicting Mother Russia, the real life, the corrupt system that the country is built upon, and the infernal chaos that has been taking place in the lands of Russia from one century to the next, this series will undoubtedly be a masterpiece of the 21st century. It may seem like an exaggeration, but after familiarizing myself with this plot, I can confidently compare Glukhovsky's work to the writings of Dostoevsky and Bulgakov, which will be discussed further.
By Head Coordinator Elina Subbotina (Year 6)
I would like to begin the analysis with the most important aspect—the title. "Topi" might seem like an unremarkable word at first, even with the stress shifted, but the meaning is revealed within the word itself. It's no accident that a small village in Arkhangelsk is called "Topi." After all, wherever you look, Russia is full of endless settlements with seemingly absurd names, which the author uses to convey one of his key messages to the audience. The viewers are introduced to "Topi," a place deep in the forests of Arkhangelsk region, populated by poor elderly people who are barely surviving, wearing clothes of the dead and unable to distinguish between life and death. Their existence is consumed by the fight to stay alive, or not lose their sanity from the extreme poverty and lack of resources—an issue that spans the entire federation. The elderly people in the series remain silent, responding to questions only with cold stares, their souls saturated with suffering and hopelessness.
"Topi" is a direct description of the settlements outside Moscow, beyond the Moscow Ring Road, where, according to the journalist Max (one of the characters), there is everything: "restaurants, clubs, and generally a beautiful life out of fairy tales," in stark contrast to the areas beyond its boundaries. Topi represents a dystopia, a bottomless pit where people are subjugated to a "master" without whom they cannot imagine their existence. They don't seek to escape, seeing no prospects, fearful of change, and their lives are focused solely on survival, not development. "Without a master, you'll die here."
Next, we should pay attention to the unfolding events. The characters are gradually introduced, each with some difficult life situation they want to escape from, and they manage to do so with the help of Denis—one of the central characters, who seeks healing for his affliction in the church of this very "Topi," clinging to the last hope of a better life. This church surprisingly has positive reviews, claiming that anyone who visits will find a healing path that will cure all ailments in an instant. This may remind the viewer of the lie we live in, where our country is portrayed as being in a wonderful state, perfect, and the people within it are healthy and thriving. At the same time, it can be seen as a reflection of how religion grips people's minds, giving them hope for the last cure, healing them from "all sorts of ailments"—which they sometimes invent for themselves, and other times are truly incurable. Yet, this faith and hope lead them down a path that has shaped Russia from century to century, and even in the modern world, filled with technology and science, religion still remains firmly rooted in the hearts and minds of the Russian people.
Upon exiting the bus, the characters encounter a display of posters about missing people, symbolizing how citizens of the country literally disappear in the depths of Russia, unable to reveal their talents and potential. Everyone outside major cities is doomed to stay where they are. The talents and intellect of the country are lost in the underdeveloped, ugly life outside the "center." The main characters, too, find themselves in a place where they cannot escape. Attention is immediately drawn to the crash's split, which brings the viewer closer to folk traditions and fairy tales, offering a chance to delve deeper into the essence of Russia, pointing to the intersection between reality and the infernal, afterlife world of fairy tales.
After death, in what can be called an "accident," the characters meet a guide who helps them cross to the other side of the river. A sharp-eyed viewer might notice this as a metaphorical reference to a guide to the world of the dead, a figure that often appears in folklore and tales. And so, the heroes find themselves in Topi, in their nightmare, where a police officer, unbothered by the appearance of strangers, calmly asks, "Just arrived?"—with a certain sadness, yet indifference, symbolizing how the new generation, people who don't understand the true essence of Russia's chaos, when they first encounter it, are shocked and horrified by the calmness and acceptance of such life among those who have lived deep within Russia, for whom such a life is ordinary and humble.
For "foreigners," this life, behind the beautiful façade, is strange and unsettling. It is presented to the viewer as a world of infernal chaos, where people, driven to madness, live in this frightening environment that terrifies the "guests," but it is here that the true Russia, in all its "beauty," is revealed.
Who is the "master"?
The series emphasizes that everyone needs a master. Let's explore a few interpretations that fit this role. The master of Topi is a man in glasses, who has everything—an expensive car, a gun to control the poor people, most of whom are defenseless, elderly, and destitute.
One could argue that the master is the devil, Satan. And Topi, in this case, represents hell—the afterlife world that the main characters enter. Or perhaps the master is simply death itself, reaping the lives of those in the settlement, depriving them of choice, and ultimately being their fate, which will inevitably catch up with everyone. Alternatively, the master could symbolize how people imprison themselves with their own thoughts and established values. Society imposes certain social frameworks, and as a result, we cannot overcome our fears and anxieties, but instead behave in ways that please the "master"—society. However, these three interpretations are less likely to be the central message of the series, and they only vaguely touch upon the main essence of the "master." My final interpretation of this character is that humans always need power to lead people—a "herd"—and without it, they are lost. "Without me, you'll all die," the master says, underlining a crucial point: people need control—control over their own ambitions and desires, and this control is provided by the state and politicians.
Switching to another significant detail, let's consider the "circle," which the master could not enter, and the criminals—who symbolize the world of crime. We see that they are left alone until they cross a certain boundary and break the rules. The criminals are under the full control of their power; they enjoy privileges because they serve the master. They live in their own world, but if they cross the defined boundary, they are punished by the master, walking toward their death. Crime is always punished—the master is the judge.
Who is the deranged Denis Tikhonov, who plays such a crucial role in the series? It's worth noting that it is he and the grieving Sonya who bring down the master, sacrificing themselves—but in the end, nothing changes, because another master takes control. Denis may be a reference to a revolutionary who ingratiates himself with the authorities only to overthrow them, hoping to change things, but the inevitable outcome is clear: the established system will not allow change, and in the end, everything remains the same, as it has for centuries. Toward the end of the story, the viewer learns that Denis knew the outcome of the trip and intentionally brought others with him, which can be compared to the local Raskolnikov, who decides whether someone should live or die and, at the cost of their "cheap" lives, believes he can lead a better life, cured by the master's hand. Yet in the end, he realizes he cannot part with everyone. "Am I a trembling creature or do I have the right?"
Now, let's talk about the policeman, who is not really a police officer in the traditional sense. Glukhovsky literally shouts that the militia—whose role is to ensure personal safety, protect citizens' rights, and freedoms—has not changed, and this shows that no matter how the structures evolve, no matter how much the country changes, everything will remain the same. This is Russia. The policeman, who doesn't rush to leave the village and submits to the new "master" after the previous one dies, knowing all the secrets of "Topi," chooses to drink the poisoned water that intoxicates the entire settlement, bringing them into a "beautiful" delusion, to see his son grow up and be happy—rather than face the brutal reality. The police, and all law enforcement, continue to intox...
The series finale is equally captivating and reveals many hidden aspects. The first thing to notice is how the journalist, symbolizing the media, continues his long flirtation with the "witch," who, according to the "policeman" (a character who plays a significant symbolic role in the series), traded bodies with her young, beautiful daughter out of self-hatred, and later, upon seeing her new appearance, went mad. This could symbolize how old Russia—full of banditry, fraud, bureaucracy, and cynicism, populated by poor and miserable people—tries to disguise itself in the new image of modern, supposedly "progressive" Russia. But this new Russia, if it attempts to change anything, goes mad upon seeing its true face. The alliance between the witch and the journalist Max ultimately shows how the media deceives the common people with beautiful packaging, while exposing the naivety of the Russian soul. Despite having the opportunity to leave for better prospects, Max stays in "Topi," deceived into thinking he will find happiness.
