Well, who does not remember from the school bench this "appreciate the act of Raskolnikov," "whether he had the right or not," "what do these thoughts lead to" ... Well, and so on.

But in fact the truth, to what?

Someone makes them think about the problems of being, and someone is encouraged to write an amazing libretto for the real rock opera.

Then there are those who create a musical masterpiece, those who embody on the stage are not such simple images, revealing new facets of the characters. And now - the masterpiece is ready.

But what is a masterpiece without decorations and unique technologies? In this age, when art and technology are intertwined together, creating an even more authentic world - it would seem impossible to surprise, but some still risk to try.

So, our heroes: music - Eduard Artemyev, libretto, idea and staging - Andrey Konchalovsky, art director - Matt Diili (Great Britain), costume designer - Tamara Ashba.

However, of course, this is not all who worked to create this amazing work, and the more interesting it is to come and see what happened to them in the end!

Manuscripts do not burn. So Woland said of the book of the Master, whom Margarita loved.

She was the wife of another. But I fell in love with the Master at first sight. And became his muse. I went to his home, read the chapters from his book about Pontius Pilate. Was his support in everything. Very worried when he disappeared.

She even had to be the mistress of the ball at Satan for her meeting with her beloved.

Only then Woland told her that the master did not deserve happiness, but deserved peace.

And Voland with his retinue did God in Moscow, better - hell, he knows what. Lived in a bad apartment on Sadovaya street.

Predicted that Berlioz will cut off the head of the girl-Komsomol. And then he got under the tram.

Woland sent the director of a variety show to the Crimea. He punished the crook-manager.

I spent a session of black magic without exposing it. Yes, so that the half-naked young ladies were forced to hide from passers-by. He said that Muscovites messed up the housing issue.

The play takes place in the Moscow metro. The unfinished subway station turns into an apartment on the Patriarch's Ponds, then into the ward in the hospital.

"Love jumped out before us, as a murderer in an alley jumps out from under the earth, and struck us both at once!" So the Master spoke of his love. Better not say.

Tartuffe, this pretended saint and hypocritical deceiver, managed to get into the confidence of Orgon, a respectable citizen who believes Tartuffe as his own son, and indulges everything.

And Tartuffe really suits Orgon in his sons: he is still very young. How not to heat this?

Yes, and Tartuf liked the wife of Orgon because he was young, handsome and knows how to lend himself favorably. Is it possible that Tartuffe will not be ashamed, and will it come to the point that a young man turns an affair with his benefactor's wife?

So, believe after that to those young people, that in appearance are exemplary virtuous!

Well, a very strange couple.

What do people wait for all week? Of course it is! Unforgettable, unique, every time is definitely a unique Friday!

A cheerful company of friends gathered to spend the evenings at poker. But the party still does not begin, because the last player is late! Jokes, laughter, suggestions ...

However, the reason for being late is much more sad than they could have guessed.

Deciding that the new week - the beginning of a new life, the wife wanted to get rid of unnecessary trash. That is from him.

But after all, he has friends!

For example, one, from him the wife left herself, taking with her children, makes a fatal mistake - suggests moving to his apartment.

Compatible in the card game, they turned out to be completely incompatible neighbors.

A macho and a touching romantic, breaking loose, was boozing and experiencing depression after a melancholy divorce.

He will not rush, as a friend in all serious cases, to forget his treacherous spouse. For him, in general, divorce is an excellent occasion for suicide.

But they will not be able to enjoy all the delights of bachelor life by two young neighbors who have penetrated into their apartment through a balcony.

Meeting with cutesy sisters, finally, helps two unlucky neighbors to understand what their wives abandoned for. That in them the sun of May, in them love flowering!

Without women, one can not live in the world, no!

"... And I'm with my own in a counter. She's there, and I'm here. She's there, and I'm here. Let him do the pomara. "

He was a good man and a thorough man, he was appreciated in the timber industry. So they have allocated a ticket to the south, we must at least improve our health sometimes.

His wife and three children stayed at home. The farm is large, and even pigeons must be fed.

And my husband has learned this! Acquainted on the sea in the hot sun with a city lady, she lured him into their networks. It would be fine still young was. And this slut simply swore, here he lost his head.

I did not return home. He began to live with a sweetheart. Only I missed very much without children and pigeons.

Somehow two of his women had to meet. Noise, din, cries, tears!

Will the spoiled spouse return to his faithful wife and harassed the children?

A touching comedy about tender feelings.

"But what fate? Drunk twirled and you will not get out. "

"Never talk to strangers."

Woland, the prince of darkness, along with his retinue arrives in Moscow in the thirties of last century. He is young, elegant, handsome and speaks Russian with a Georgian accent.

He will help the Master regain the novel burned by the writer and connect with his beloved woman, the redheaded Marguerite.

How difficult it is for thinking people in difficult times! Next to them - informers, traitors and executioners. Soviet time does not promise them anything good.

They tend to escape from the pitch darkness, suffer and suffer. Only love pleases their exhausted hearts.

At the ball at Satan, huge busts of Lenin and Stalin are danced. The era of terror is cruel, absurd and ridiculous.

Directed by Roman Viktyuk as always brilliantly staged a performance that is more like a colorful theatrical show. Phantasmagoria with circus numbers, speeches of the leaders and Soviet songs of pre-war time.

Great play of actors, striking costumes and scenery.

A new reading of the great novel by Mikhail Bulgakov.

"Manuscripts do not burn."

We all live in anticipation of a miracle. And when it happens, completely lost.

It's boring to be a pragmatist. He does not expect anything good from life, believes that he will receive only what he fights hard for.

And others believe that the saints live among us. Only not everyone manages to meet with them.

A rich aunt died. The young heir does not mourn the old woman. He's so busy! It is more important for him to arrange a lavish funeral and a wake.

Only a young girl, his aunt's maid, is going through the death of her mistress. But she does not even have anyone to share her grief with.

A naive and frank girl so want to talk about the last hours of life of an elderly woman. She does not understand the strict orders of a good house. Why are the relatives of the deceased so indifferent?

Go to get warm in a rich house, she cordially invites a beggar in rags. Let him pray for the sinful soul of her mistress! The maid did not suspect that a saint had come to them.

He is taciturn, looks into the distance, keeps himself apart. Next to the fine doctor, arrogant abbot and other guests, he seems like a black sheep.

Comedy Maurice Maeterlinck about the greedy lover of the inheritance.

Even a miracle can be treated with irony.

Power is something that people aspired to and five centuries ago and twenty ... Power intoxicates, deprives reason, pushes against battles and betrayals. But ... how do we know what happened in this fight?

We open the history textbook, leaf through page after page, vchityvayas in lines, dry, ascertaining facts. But after these names, dates - there are already looming images of people who once lived, but their features are not yet clear, they are so hard to catch.

And then, we close the historical directory and open the book ... On the volume it is written "Pushkin. Boris Godunov". A historical drama, realistic ... in which live people look at us with feelings, fears, aspirations.

They, like flies in amber, are bogged down in intrigues, in a thirst for power, they accomplish crimes, confuse love with a cold cynical calculation, they lose themselves and suffer like soulless dolls when they get to the top.

But when all this comes to life on the stage, dressed in luxurious outfits of those epochs, when from there, from the twilight, a living voice begins to sound, a warning ringing in your ears, and the ghost of the murdered prince flashes, and somewhere near bliss the holy fool, unconditionally you begin to believe - in The history of power, the state of the Russian and those people who created it, wrote on the pages with their own blood and destinies. Which so desperately reliably play on stage wonderful actors, giving us the opportunity to touch the real lives of people far away for us.

"Today it hurts so much, my tears are tearing my eyes, these tears involuntarily I drop in silence ..."

Two stories. They smile, sad, sometimes even cry, thinking about those they once loved. Even if it's a question of a chance meeting.

How long ago it was! All of them - in the darkness of memory, in the souls of the soul ...

Was Shura happy in her life? She remembers not only her three husbands, but also those who did not become hers.

Did she overlook her love? In her cozy little world with white napkins, cups of coffee and delicious cupcakes, there is no place for strong feelings.

She goes for a walk in a fashionable hat in her youth with lace and worries that she can never fix her mistakes. The past can not be returned!

In the second, surprisingly sincere story, the old tailor Emmanuel recalls with his humor his beloved woman, his dear Rose.

Retro-performance about the uniqueness of the life path of each of the people. Actors are amazingly singing romances, playing the guitar.

How important it is to cherish your loved ones!

He was a great tragedian, he remained a great tragedian, but now he does not play: the new time, the new theater is not for him. He is Minetti, an actor with a difficult fate.

For thirty years he did not go on stage. But now ... he was again invited to play King Lear! After all, he once shone in this role!

He decided, he came ... and he was not expected, it turns out! Director of the theater, although he invited the actor, but he himself forgot about it. Sitting in the hotel, the actor waited for the news, hoping that they would still remember ... He dreamed about the public, but again remained out of work, and now he does not need the mask of his hero, King Lear.

I'm not from you, Mom, I'm leaving, I'm leaving the mess.

Snow flakes fall softly and unhurriedly from the sky. White fluffs sweep before my eyes, remain on eyelashes and cool streams flow down the cheeks. And let your life seem unbearable to you, your hands fall down powerlessly. But you promised your mother that you will be strong.

Sometimes it is worth forgetting all the blatant ideas of our civilization and paying attention to what was known to the wildest savages - respect for the mother. Maternal love is a black hole. It absorbs even the most vile and vile things. Lies, betrayal, uneaten breakfast.

When there is no reason for resentment, anything can serve as an excuse. Even semolina porridge. And how else should you behave when you are already pounding your nasty lumps against your throat? Turn around and leave. And it does not matter that it's winter outside, dark and minus thirty. Resentment and anger warm better than sheepskin coats. Sometimes I want it so cold. To the heart - ice, soul - concrete, stone. To look - snow, frost. And sometimes almost it turns out. You already feel this cold in your soul, you wait for it, you are ready for it ... but for some reason your mother looks into your eyes and starts to smile.

Wars are cursed by mothers. Manka is cursed by children.