6.3/10
Senior Film Conservator
A definitive 6.3/10 rating for a film that redefined the boundaries of cult cinema. Ulitsa poperyok remains a cornerstone of transgressive art.
If you have a weird itch for mid-century Soviet animation and public service announcements, sure. It’s short, it’s snappy, and it’s surprisingly grumpy. If you’re looking for a relaxing watch, skip it. You’ll feel like you’re being scolded by a grumpy school principal the entire time. 🧐
The whole thing feels like a fever dream you’d have after eating too much heavy dinner. It’s not exactly Lions' Jaws and Kittens' Paws, where you know exactly what kind of whimsy you’re getting. This one has a weird, twitchy energy.
Everything in the frame is moving just a little bit too fast. It’s like the animators were terrified that if they let a character stand still for more than three seconds, the audience would get up and leave the theater. The background art is actually pretty decent, though. There’s a specific shade of grey-blue on the buildings that feels weirdly authentic, like it’s peeling off the screen.
One character stands on the corner for a solid minute, and I swear he blinks about fifty times. It’s deeply unsettling. It reminded me of some of the jittery, nervous energy I saw in The Road to Ruin, though for totally different reasons.
It’s not trying to be high art. It’s trying to tell you to stop jaywalking. It’s strange how much effort goes into making a cartoon look this serious about traffic laws. I kept waiting for a joke that never really landed, or maybe it did and it’s just buried under sixty years of cultural context I don't have.
Sometimes you just have to lean back and accept that you’re watching a public service announcement that accidentally became a piece of film history. It isn't The Last Parade, that’s for sure. It’s just... a guy walking across a street, doing it wrong, and the movie losing its mind over it. 🤷♂️
