Russia's most eagerly-anticipated cultural event of the year,award-winning director Nikita Mikhalkov's new film, "The Barber ofSiberia", premiered in Moscow February 20, only a few days before the start ofRussian Orthodox Lent. And like Mardi Gras in New Orleans or Carnaval in Brazil, thefestivities were marked by all the last chance excess and splendour of the mid-winterholidays.

The Kremlin premiere of the English-language film drew guestsranging from world-famous movie stars like Shirley McLaine and Robert Duvall to most ofRussia's political elite. With tickets costing upwards of $700 a head, the galaaffair did little to counter the recent volley of criticism levelled at Russia's mostWestern of directors. A budding politician himself, Mikhalkov has been accused of wastingstate money on an Oscar-ambitious vehicle which is too expensive, too political and notRussian enough.

The script for the film actually first appeared years ago in theSoviet annual register of published screenplays. Its publication alone wasn't muchcause for excitement – everyone knew the author was Mikhalkov, a respected directoreven then, whose "Burnt By the Sun" would later win the Oscar for best foreignfilm. As for a potential celluloid version of "Barber", not a single director ormovie critic in Moscow considered it possible to raise as much money as the sweeping,panoramic film would eventually require.

Which is why Mikhalkov's work on the project attracted theclose attention of every Russian movie-insider, as well as a host of Western buffs,throughout the film's twelve years of shooting. At times, the prospect of ever seeingthe project to its satisfying completion looked dim. Even the most die-hard Mikhalkovfans, from Hollywood to Moscow, had to wonder whether all the work would pay off.

But if any artist was to be entrusted with Russian cinema'sriskiest venture ever, it could only be Mikhalkov. A descendant of several generations ofcultural icons, he had established a name for himself not only as a distinguisheddirector, but also as a promising politician with his entry to the populist OurHome-Russia party. The latest talk in political circles has him pegged as a favourite forthe presidency in 2000.

With "The Barber of Siberia", proof of public faith inthe Mikhalkov dream came in two tranches: an original $10 million was doled out of theRussian government's own coffers, from the State Cinema Committee. Private Americaninvestors furnished the remainder. Mikhalkov says he plans to break even at the upcomingfestival in Cannes, France, by presenting the film for commercial viewing rather thansubmit it for competition. He also has a yearlong distribution planned for Russia, Americaand Europe. Neither the director nor his creditors now have any doubts as to thefilm's eventual success, both commercially and critically.

His critics are still concerned by two issues: Did Mikhalkov havethe right to take $10 million from the state in the midst of its worst post-Soviet crisis,when salary payments are delayed for months and pensions are not paid at all? And how willthe average voter feel about the director's shamelessly pompous premiere whenconsidering his obvious presidential ambitions, about which Mikhalkov himself has beenfairly frank?

Several prominent Russian critics have recently permittedthemselves to go even further, voicing unflinchingly negative opinions of bothMikhalkov's art and even his moral values. Radio host Aleksandr Gordon strewed arecent reference to the director with expletives during his popular morning program on theSerebryanny Dozhd radio station.

"I do not know what ‘The Barber of Siberia' islike," said Gordon. "I have not seen it, and I will not speculate. I do notexpect anything good. But who knows? You can shoot a good movie for $45 million, I guess.But do you want me to believe that this movie is worth the money? Give me a break! Whatmatters is that Nikita Mikhalkov, a prominent public figure running for president ofRussia, spends wild money on his perfumes, his make-up and his dresses, while a decent manwould have spent it for other purposes."

To say the least, Mikhalkov was offended by the criticism. "Iam a recipient of two Russian state prizes, an Oscar winner, a bearer of the title‘People's Artist of Russia' (the highest honour conferred to any Russianartist), president of the Culture Foundation, chair of the Movie Makers' Union,member of the Presidential Council for Culture and Art. In a way, I am a statesman. Howcan the state tolerate it if some little-known man who has spent most of his life inAmerica starts discussing anyone in such a manner in front of the nation?"

But the director-turned-politician probably knows more aboutRussia's financial state than he is letting on. While his critics accused him ofvirtually robbing state monies, he proceeded to appeal to the government again – thistime concerning the 21st Moscow Film Festival, due to take place next summer. At a recentpress conference, the chair of the Filmmakers' Union confessed he had felt uneasyasking the government for funds for the festival, saying he knows "how difficult thesituation is for the country." Still, patriotic-minded moviegoers may rejoice, forMikhalkov managed to enlist the state's support of 25 million roubles ($1 million)for the festival.

People who see political ambition behind the film's glamorouspremiere offend Mikhalkov less. However, "it is very degrading when a creativeproduction is viewed as a well-planned political action," he said at a pressconference before the premiere.

"I do not want power," he had said earlier. "I donot wish to ‘rule over souls,' or to distribute money flows. I simply have someideas that I can make a reality. It was some 10 to 15 years ago that my present position(as director) was a prestigious one. Back then a deputy of the Supreme Council would begiven a black limousine, a special phone connection and an opportunity to master vastfunds accumulated in the Soviet Union. Today it is a heavy cross that makes you run intopeople's problems every day. I do not have time to be with my children, travel oreven read for myself."

The director saw his new production's objective in arousingnational pride, in restoring the Russian national idea through the romantic story of ayoung Russian cadet (Oleg Menshikov) and a progressive American woman (British actressJulia Ormond) against the backdrop of a monarchist and Orthodox Russia. About 70 percentof the movie is in English, which will allow the film to be nominated outside the ForeignFilm category at this year's Academy Awards. "What matters is whether the viewerwill start crying after watching the film, whether he or she will want to watch it againand bring friends, parents or children to see it, too. That is the concept of nationalunification," Mikhalkov said.

It would be too early to speak of a Russia-wide cultural revivaljust yet, since so far the film has only been shown to a select audience in theKremlin's Palace of Congresses. However, a political unification, at least, wasclearly seen, if only for three hours. What other cultural event could possibly gather somany diametrically opposed political figures – from CIS Executive Secretary BorisBerezovskii to KPRF leader Gennadii Zyuganov - in the same theatre. They were all there,and every one of them said they liked the movie. Money, politics and nationalist culturalloyalties aside, "The Barber of Siberia", for one night at least, appears tohave met the primary objective of any high-budget filmmaker – that of entertainment.