Vladislav Opelyants

Vladislav Opelyants, born January 7, 1968, out in Russia, is one of those low-key legends behind the camera. Seriously, if you’re into cinema that actually makes you feel something, you’ve probably stumbled across his work—even if you didn’t realize it at the time. He’s not just pointing a camera and hoping for the best; there’s intention in every frame. The guy’s got a real knack for turning even the bleakest scenes into visual poetry, which is no small feat. Let’s talk about “Petrov’s Flu” (2021). What a trip. Opelyants just dives headfirst into this feverish, chaotic world, mixing up surreal visuals with a kind of gritty realism that makes you question what’s real and what’s delirium. The camera’s always moving, almost like it’s got the flu too—sweaty, restless, and totally unpredictable. He somehow pulls you right into the confusion, and you’re left wandering those snowy Russian streets with the characters. Then there’s “Solnechnyy udar” (2014). Completely different vibe. Here, he goes lush and nostalgic, bathing everything in these warm, golden tones that scream late summer but with this undertone of sadness, like you know the party’s almost over. It’s dreamy, almost romantic, but there’s a bite to it—he never lets you get too comfortable. And “Persian Lessons” (2020)? Wildly inventive. The film’s tense, claustrophobic atmosphere owes everything to how Opelyants frames his shots, trapping you right alongside the protagonist. The lighting, the shadows, the way the camera lingers—it all adds up. The man just knows how to work a scene, no matter the story.