This film is a gleefully anarchic, low-budget parody of the Russian action blockbuster "Major Grom: Plague Doctor" (2021), though director Sergey A. Admits he never watched the original . Instead, he crafts a delirious, DIY spoof that skewers superhero clichés, bureaucratic absurdity, and even itself. Clocking in at 62 minutes, this cross-border collaboration (produced in Russia, Ukraine, and the Czech Republic) is a testament to Sergey's signature style: maximalist chaos, lo-fi aesthetics, and a complete disregard for cinematic norms.
The film follows Major Dron (played by Czech actor-director Sergey Newnoir), a bumbling police officer tasked with stopping PivonEsco-a beer-swilling, vengeance-obsessed plague doctor who murders corrupt officials with absurd weaponry like explosive vodka bottles. The "story" unfolds as a series of disjointed vignettes, including outbreaks, stage performances by masked cultists, and a subplot involving Dron's informant. The narrative coherence is nonexistent, but that's precisely the point: this is DIY cinema as high-concept satire.
Shot during the pandemic, the film leverages remote filming techniques, with actors submitting footage from their homes and locations. The result is a patchwork of clashing visual styles: grainy webcam close-ups, over-saturated green screens, and jarring cuts between Czech forests and Ukrainian apartment blocks. Sergey A. Doubles down on his love for found-footage tropes , but here, the "found" element feels more like a collage of internet memes.
The plague doctors-played by Sergey in multiple roles are a highlight. Their masks, seemingly cobbled from papier-mâché and spray paint, evoke a child's Halloween costume, while their exaggerated gestures border on slapstick. The 3D effects, rendered in what looks like MS Paint, add to the film's intentional campiness.
While "Major Grom: Plague Doctor" critiques societal corruption and police heroism , Sergey's parody reduces these ideas to farce. PivonEsco's vendetta against "the system" is undercut by his comically inept schemes. Major Dron's "personal stake" in the case-revealed via a nonsensical subplot involving his pet raccoon-mocks the emotional stakes of mainstream action films.
The film's most biting satire targets production itself. Scenes of actors fumbling lines or staring confusedly at their cameras break the fourth wall, highlighting the absurdity of remote collaboration. A mid-film musical number, where plague doctors dance to a polka remix of Tchaikovsky, feels like a middle finger to cinematic pretension.
Sergey Newnoir's Major Dron is a masterpiece of deadpan buffoonery, delivering lines like "I'll solve this case... after my nap" with the gravitas of a Shakespearean actor. Sergey A., meanwhile, chews scenery as every third character, switching between plague doctor cult leader and zombie henchman with chaotic energy. The supporting cast-largely non-professionals-ranges from wooden to hysterically over-the-top, culminating in a finale.
"Major Dron and the Plague Doctor" won't win awards, but as a cult artifact, it's fascinating. It embodies the DIY spirit of found-footage horror while embracing the irreverence of YouTube poop edits. Fans of "The Room" or "Birdemic" will relish its unintentional humor, while critics of Russian cinema's recent blockbuster push might see it as a rebellious counterpoint.
This is a film that defies traditional critique. Its flaws-sloppy editing, incoherent plot, bargain-bin effects-are its virtues. Sergey A. Weaponizes incompetence to create something uniquely entertaining, a "so-bad-it's-brilliant" ode to anarchic creativity. Approach it with irony, a sense of humor, and possibly a drink in hand.
This film also have sequel. I need watch that!
