Tina Kakadelis
Idiotka is the Russian word for idiot, but specifically the version of the word for a woman with the “ka” suffix making the word softer and sweeter. It is also the title of Nastasya Popov’s directorial debut, which had its world premiere at the 2025 SXSW Film & TV Festival. At first blush, it’s hard to believe the film’s title would apply to any of the main female characters. Their actions don’t come from a place of stupidity, but of desperation. Idiotka is a new take on the quest for the American Dream. One that plays out in the Russian neighborhood of West Hollywood and in the world of reality TV.
In Idiotka, Margarita (Anna Baryshnikov) learned everything she knows about sewing from her grandmother (Galina Jovovich). The two of them live with Margarita’s brother (Nerses Stamos) and father (Mark Ivanir) in a small apartment in the “not cool” area of West Hollywood. They’re six months behind on rent. Margarita’s brother works at a restaurant that has only one customer, her dad doesn’t work since he lost his medical license, and her grandmother is without a job. Margarita is the primary breadwinner, thrifting cheap clothes and reselling them online with fake, fancy labels sewn on. When DePop shuts her down for the last time, Margarita becomes desperate, so she applies for Serve. Slay. Survive., a new reality show for “underprivileged” designers. With $100,000 on the line, she has to decide how much of her soul she’ll sell to keep a roof over her family’s heads.
It’s hard to talk about identity and the ways it’s both beneficial and harmful to the pursuit of our dreams. Idiotka plays with the idea that Margarita’s identity is something she’s proud of and something that must be exploited to get a leg up in the world of fashion. Where do you draw the line? Do you exploit your identity for the sake of “making it?” Margarita is all but explicitly told that it’s her tumultuous home life they want, and the only way she stands a chance of making it on the show is to film the mayhem for them. It’s a hard choice when one of the things standing in the way of her winning $100,000, a life-changing amount of money, is her reservations about how other people will perceive her family and how her family will feel living under a microscope. The tension of this rock-and-a-hard-place situation in Idiotka is the basis of Margarita’s internal struggle, one that she’s forced to play out with leering cameras in her face.
Idiotka is fluent in the world of reality television as we know it today. There was a simpler time when reality TV was something closer to a documentary, but it can be said that some genres of documentaries have more in common with intrusive reality programs than with the originally intended educational, observational purpose. Slay. Serve. Survive. is exactly the sort of title that would be given to one of these types of shows that’s relentlessly churning out episodes, unencumbered by the burden of its participants’ well-being. Tragedy, hardship, and lack of privilege are currency to reality producers. Many who consume hours of reality television aren’t familiar with this dark side, and while Idiotka doesn’t dive into the full underbelly of this world, it gives viewers enough of a look to encourage them to be more discerning when selecting their own favorite shows.
Beyond the reality television angle is an immigrant family story. Idiotka could be the contemporary Russian spiritual sister to My Big Fat Greek Wedding. Both films thrive on hyper-specific cultural identities and illuminate the fact that we’re not that different. Every family seems to have an eccentric, loving grandmother, a hardened father with a soft heart, a weird brother who’s a little afraid to pursue art, and a young woman at the center of it all trying to hold it together while balancing her own dreams.
It’s this idea of hyper-specificity that’s humorously critiqued as Margarita competes in the reality show. Viewers want to know that someone has suffered, but they don’t want to acknowledge the true circumstances of living in poverty. The entire conceit of reality television is a shortcut to the American Dream, but neither the shortcut nor the American Dream truly exists. Tragedy sells, and the industry loves to chew up and spit out people who don’t have the means to advocate for themselves. As charmingly skewering as Idiotka is about the industry, it’s relatively tame. That’s okay though, because Idiotka is a warmly messy film about families and the ways they hurt, inspire, and support us.
