
My Perestroika (Restructuring) tells the story of 5 classmates from Moscow’s School # 57. Now in their early forties they are among the last generation of children to grow up under communist rule in Russia. This documentary juxtaposes old news-reel footage and home movies from the 1970s, 80s and 90s with clips of these 5 individuals as they are today. It demonstrates just how much the former Soviet Union has changed and also gives a bit of a warning about just where it might be headed in the future.
The five subjects look back with nostalgia at their childhood’s behind the Iron Curtain. Although they openly discuss the limitations and day-to-day restrictions of life in the USSR, they also seem to have had genuinely happy school days. Borya and Lubya are married teachers with a young son. They are quite politically minded. Ruslan is an angry, aging punk rocker. Olga is an apolitical single mom struggling to stay above the poverty line, while Andrei is a successful businessman.
Although this is a documentary it plays more like reality television in the sense that these are no so-called experts or historians, just ordinary citizens talking candidly about themselves. If they are representative of the average Moscow resident then it is safe to say they smoke and drink more than your average American these days. Each of the five adults is shown smoking cigarettes nearly constantly and there are many references to beer and vodka.
One of the common themes mentioned is how restricted television programming was under the old regime. In one ironically humorous moment they tell how, whenever any national crisis arose, a production of Swan Lake was shown continuously on television. For example, during the attempted coup in 1991, Ruslan discusses how he woke up in the middle of the night, turned on the set to find Swan Lake playing, then looked out his window and saw tanks driving through the streets of Moscow.
Lubya tells how as a young girl she was so caught up with patriotic fervor that whenever the Russian National Anthem was played on television she would snap to attention, give a salute and become overwhelmed with tears. She laughs with incredulity at the actions of her younger self.
With a runtime of just under 90 minutes, My Perestroika doesn’t overstay its welcome. Sure it’s a bit dry at times and is more informative than entertaining but it offers a rare glimpse in to the lives of Russian citizens that we Americans would almost never get to experience. As a member of the same generation as these five subjects, I could perhaps, relate a bit more than the average viewer.


















