TV series about organized crime and ordinary bandits were incredibly popular in the late 1990s and early 2000s. Everyone knows and remembers such projects as Streets of Broken Lights, Opera, Gangster Petersburg, and Brigada. However, among these numerous well-promoted shows, I accidentally stumbled upon a project with an intriguing title - The Werewolf's Trace. This work stood out from the rest in many ways. And the main thing that set it apart was its mystery.
The story takes place in one of the southern cities, very different from the usual cold megacities we're used to seeing in police dramas. The plot instantly grabs your attention when someone - carefully hidden from us and speaking with an altered voice - commits a murder, reminding the victim about a certain girl in a photograph. This is one of the strongest moves by the creators. The intrigue pulls you in, and you simply can't tear yourself away from the TV screen.
This production, based on Oleg Prikhodko's novel The Werewolf, has a wealth of important characters. There are no "filler" episodes here. Every scene has meaning, and two central storylines run in parallel, keeping you in suspense right until the finale.
Two completely different protagonists, with completely different worldviews - Konstantin Rybakov and Alexander Akinfiev - each follow their own thread. They do it in a way that is genuinely engaging for the viewer, each moving toward his own goal. The cast is a joy to watch, with renowned actors Aleksei Gorbunov and Valery Barinov portraying the leads masterfully. Each character has their own circle, their own methods of working. While watching, you can't help but compare their approaches to serving in the force and investigating cases.
Akinfiev, a seasoned investigator who has seen plenty in his life, is about to retire, but a serial killer case that lands on his desk won't let him go. A skilled detective, he's unwilling to give up, and seems to have decided he won't stop until the case is solved - even at the cost of his already fragile health.
Rybakov is a young and ambitious policeman, closing in on the gang of a ruthless criminal with zeal and determination. His grip, drive, and energy are at times astonishing. Only in the finale do you realize that all of this had a deeper meaning and purpose.
The series is full of secondary characters who are a pleasure to see on screen. It also features good humor, a touch of mysticism (presented in a genuinely eerie way), and many side plots that turn out to be quite significant.
The show keeps you on edge the entire time and leaves a lasting impression for many reasons. First, the colorful characters - even those hunted by the maniac are fleshed out as real people. Each of them has a life that is suddenly shattered: a devoted family man, an artist, a singer, and others. Following their fates is compelling. And the songs by the band Mig Udachi became a true highlight of the series.
The finale rewards attentive viewers with an excellent plot twist that could not have been guessed at the beginning. Long after the last episode, I found myself coming back to this story. Strong, powerful, unforgettable - all of that describes The Werewolf's Trace.
It's been over two decades since its release, but I'm sure the themes it raises remain just as relevant today - especially the central one, which you can only uncover by watching it through.
The Werewolf's Trace is one of my favorite shows. A solid, well-crafted story with no hint of cheapness. Everyone involved in making this series approached their work with full dedication, gifting us a memorable TV drama for all time.
10 out of 10.
