
Mr. Nobody Against Putin: The Bittersweet Bravery of Dissent
Film Reviews
Sundance Film Review: Mr. Nobody Against Putin
Directors: David Bornstein, Pavel Ilyich Talankin
Made in Copenhagen
Premiere: 01.31
My wife’s father was born and raised in Moscow and resides there currently. In the summer of 2016, we had the opportunity to visit him in Russia. As someone who had never left the country before, it was an eye-opening experience for me. I quickly realized that American propaganda had colored a lot of my expectations. While I knew that the Russian people boast a beautiful and proud cultural heritage, I discovered they are also surprisingly friendly and funny. They certainly aren’t the heartless robots that American media often depicts them as, and over the course of that trip I gained a new appreciation for the Russian people — particularly in their efforts to stem the tide of fascism during the Second World War. Having said that, the murals of Vladimir Putin on nearly every street corner were a sign that his cult of personality was definitely alive and that over the last decade, Putin’s influence has only grown stronger and more authoritarian.
This is the staging ground for Mr. Nobody Against Putin, which follows elementary school teacher, videographer and co-director of the film, Pavel “Pasha” Ilyich Talankin. Residing in the small industrial town of Karabash (notorious as the “most toxic city in the world”), he’s beloved by his students and known to be a safe refuge for kids who may not have anywhere else to turn. As he puts it, “Here at the school, I can create my own family.” It’s a role that Pasha takes very seriously, as he makes his office a sanctuary where any student can find help, support and understanding.
Things take a shift for Pasha, however, in February of 2022 when Russia invades Ukraine. Suddenly, teachers at his school are expected to indoctrinate their students with “patriotic” songs and messages, all of which Pasha is in charge of filming so that the government has “proof” of the school following orders. None of this sits right with Pasha, who is pro-democracy, pro-free speech and sympathetic to the Ukrainian plight. He initially intends to resign as a teacher, but later decides to continue filming so he can gather as much footage as possible to show the world, which eventually becomes this very film.
As a child of the War on Terror (I was 10 when the U.S. invaded Iraq), I also drew some eerie parallels between how that war was justified to us as schoolchildren and how Russia justified their invasion of Ukraine to their schoolchildren. Of course, I wasn’t aware of any teachers who had to flee the country due to their opposition to the war, but in hindsight, it is unnerving how easily we accepted that the country was doing what was “best for our freedom.” Whether American or Russian, pro-war propaganda is a hell of a drug.
Ultimately, the war can only remain distant for so long. Even in his small town of 10,000 people, Pasha personally knew many people who were lost to the war, some of whom were even his former students. Mr. Nobody Against Putin provides a fascinating window into the lives and mental state of the typical Russian citizen, something that most Americans have probably never seen. There are some like Pasha’s coworker, Pavel Abdulmanov, who eagerly gobble up the propaganda and regurgitate it back out for the students with delight. There are some like Pasha, who actively oppose the war and Russia’s aggressive foreign policy. But it seems like most fall somewhere in the middle. They love their country and their communities, but they dare not express too much dissatisfaction out of fear of retribution.
Mr. Nobody Against Putin defies the stereotype that all Russians are cold, ruthless killers, showing that most Russian citizens are similar to American citizens: chiefly concerned with their families, their communities and their own personal well-being. Yet, be it in Russia or the United States, we are all subject to the whims and machinations of the powers that be. Pasha’s story is a sobering reminder that governments are far too powerful for an ordinary person to face alone. But by that same token, he also shows the bravery of standing by his principles, even if it means leaving the country that he loves so much. “I might love Russia more than the regime supporters,” he says. “Love for your country is not about propaganda; loving your country is being able to say, ‘We have a problem.’” This perfectly encapsulates my own feelings for the United States as well. How does one reconcile their love for their country with their disdain for their government?
The day before he flees the country, Pasha plans a graduation ceremony for his students, a deeply emotional event — as many of his neighbors suspect he will be leaving for good. It’s perhaps the most moving moment in the entire film, as this community comes together one last time to celebrate their shared communal experience, something that may never be the same again after this war and rise in authoritarianism. Perhaps that schism will never fully heal. “Dancing one last time in the most toxic city on earth,” as Pasha puts it.
The film closes with a shot of Pasha’s empty office, a former refuge that is now completely abandoned. It’s a bittersweet moment, knowing that he can’t provide the help he used to, but also moving forward with the hope that perhaps he helped someone along the way. There may come a day when citizens of Russia, and every country around the world, will not have to live in fear of an authoritarian government. Unfortunately, that day is not yet here. But as long as there are voices of dissent like Pasha — no matter how small their sphere of influence — there is hope for us all. —Seth Turek
Read more of SLUG’s coverage of the 2025 Sundance Film Festival.