Sergei Filippov actor personal biography. Sergey Filippov - biography, information, personal life

Sergey Nikolaevich Filippov. Born on June 11 (24), 1912 in Saratov - died on April 19, 1990 in Leningrad (now St. Petersburg). Soviet actor. People's Artist of the RSFSR (1974).

Sergei Filippov was born on June 11 (24 according to the new style) June 1912 in Saratov into a working-class family.

Father is a mechanic.

Mother is a dressmaker.

He did poorly at school, and in high school he was even known as a hooligan. As the actor said, once during a chemistry lesson, in the absence of the teacher, he mixed hydrochloric acid with iron filings and added a couple of reagents. After such an experiment, a terribly pungent smell spread throughout the school. Classes were disrupted, and Filippov was expelled from school.

After being expelled from school, he got a job as a baker's apprentice in a private bakery. But this work interested him little, and over the next months he tried several professions, from turner to carpenter, until chance brought him to the ballet studio. The classes captivated Sergei so much that after a few weeks he was considered best student and a brilliant future in ballet opened up before him.

In 1929, on the advice of teachers, Filippov went to Moscow to enter the ballet school at Bolshoi Theater. Arriving in the capital, he learned that the entrance exams had already ended, and, on the advice of knowledgeable people, he went to Leningrad, to the choreographic school. But he was late for these exams too and submitted documents to the newly opened variety and circus technical school, where he was accepted. The teachers predicted a brilliant future for the gifted student and, after graduating from college, in 1933 Sergei Filippov was accepted into the troupe of the Opera and Ballet Theater.

The career of a ballet dancer turned out to be too short - during the next performance, Filippov became ill. The arriving doctors diagnosed a heart attack and advised him to leave the ballet. Filippov entered the variety theater studio. He performed a lot on the variety stages of Leningrad and during one of the concerts he was noticed by Nikolai Pavlovich Akimov, who invited the young actor to move to the Comedy Theater.

In 1935-1965 he was an actor at the Leningrad Comedy Theater, among his works: “ Simple girl"(1938, V.V. Shkvarkin, director Erast Garin) - house manager Makarov; “The Last Judgment” (1939, V.V. Shkvarkin, directed by Nikolai Akimov and Pavel Sukhanov) - member of the local committee Rodionov; “Lev Gurych Sinichkin” (1946, D.T. Lensky, director and art director Nikolai Akimov) - owner of the Pustoslavtsev Theater; “Simplicity is enough for every wise man” (A.N. Ostrovsky, 1946, dir. Boris Zon) - Krutitsky; “The Inspector General” (N.V. Gogol, 1958, directed by Nikolai Akimov) - Osip; “What will they say tomorrow” (1958, D.N. Al and L.L. Rakov, directed by Pavel Sukhanov) - Bruskov.

Since 1965 - actor at the Lenfilm film studio.

Tall, thin and agile, with long arms and legs, Filippov moved and danced very well. By nature he was endowed with a rough and very expressive face with a gloomy and ominous expression. This was combined with brilliant acting intuition, mobility, rich facial expressions and innate humor, albeit very rude and in many cases indecent.

In the theater, Filippov did not like long rehearsals, he often missed them, but the theater director N.P. Akimov often forgave him such behavior, knowing that Filippov was able to perfectly create the required image literally the first time. Being very observant by nature, Filippov noticed various shortcomings in people and reproduced them in his heroes very evilly, sharply and accurately.

On stage and screen, Filippov embodied people who were uncouth, narrow-minded, boorish, endowed with many shortcomings, cunning, resourceful and often arrogant; he played quitters, drunkards, and angry losers. However, despite the sharply caricatured style of acting, Filippov was organic as an artist in any image.

He acted in films since 1937, making his debut in the films “For the Soviet Motherland”, “Volochaev Days”, “Vyborg Side”.

Sergei Filippov in the film "Vyborg Side"

His popularity was brought to him by comedy film roles in the films “Tiger Tamer” (1954), “Carnival Night” (1956), “Girl without an Address” (1957), “12 Chairs” (1971), “Ivan Vasilyevich Changes Profession” (1973).

Filippov performed dangerous stunts without doubles. During filming, he repeatedly fell from great heights to the ground or into water, and entered a cage with tigers. Filippov was a master of both large and complex roles and episodes.

Even in small episodes, he created unforgettable grotesque characters: “Ivan Vasilyevich changes his profession” (L. I. Gaidai, Swedish ambassador), “Heart of a Dog” (V. V. Bortko, a rich old client of Professor Preobrazhensky), “Carnival Night” , “Girl without an address” (E. A. Ryazanov, lecturer and boss), “ Musical history"(G.M. Rapoport, head of the club), etc.

Sergei Filippov in the film "Tiger Tamer"

Sergei Filippov in the film "Carnival Night"

Sergei Filippov in the film "Bunny"

Sergei Filippov in the film "12 Chairs"

Sergei Filippov in the film "Ivan Vasilyevich changes his profession"

Sergei Filippov in the film "It Can't Be!"

Sergei Filippov in the film "Heart of a Dog"

In the 1940s - 1960s, the actor was very popular in Leningrad and major cities of the country. Popularity was of a specific nature - he was often identified with his stupid and unpleasant heroes, was easily recognized on the streets and in restaurants and was warmly welcomed. He perceived this as a mockery, and being a proud and unsociable person, he quickly hated his popularity and his fans.

A few days before his death, the actor told his colleague Lyubov Tishchenko about his unfulfilled dream: “You know, all my life I wanted to play a positive tragic role, but I only got nasty types. I even cried when I found out that the main role in the film “When the Trees were big" went to Yuri Nikulin."

Death of Sergei Filippov

In 1965, he was diagnosed with a brain tumor.

Filippov spent the last years of his life alone. Died of lung cancer on April 19, 1990.

“When Sergei Nikolaevich was dying, none of those who were then next to him informed his son about the impending loss, although he kept both Yuri’s phone number and address on the bedside table. But after the death of the great actor, it was very easy to steal the contents of the apartment, and then write an article that Sergei Nikolaevich Filippov died in poverty: there was nothing in the apartment except dirty linen and cigarette butts... Where is his library, where is the furniture, paintings? Where, finally, is his archive: photographs, letters from fans, articles, film library? “Who can answer this?” recalled the actor’s daughter-in-law Tatyana Greenwich.

Sergei Filippov was buried at the Northern Cemetery in St. Petersburg, next to Antonina Golubeva. The St. Petersburg Screen Actors Guild erected a bust on the grave.

In 2009, a book by the actor’s son, Yuri Sergeevich Filippov, “Sergey Filippov. Is there life on Mars?

In 2008, monuments to Ostap Bender and Kisa Vorobyaninov were unveiled in Pyatigorsk. Bronze Kisa has a clear portrait resemblance to Sergei Filippov in this role in Gaidaev’s film “12 Chairs”. A similar monument was erected in Cheboksary (sculptor V.P. Nagornov).

Sergey Filippov. Episode Kings

Sergei Filippov's height: 184 centimeters.

Personal life of Sergei Filippov:

The first wife is Alevtina Ivanovna Gorinovich, a ballet dancer. They lived together for more than 10 years, separated before the war. In the 1970s, she emigrated to the United States and did not return to Russia, which is why the marriage was not dissolved.

They had a son, Yuri Sergeevich Filippov, a designer.

Alevtina Gorinovich - the first wife of Sergei Filippov

Yuri is the son of Sergei Filippov

Second wife - Antonina Golubeva (1899-1989), children's writer, author of books about S.M. Kirov (“The Boy from Urzhum”, etc.). She was thirteen years older than Filippov.

They said that the actor recent years lived in poverty, but his son Yuri denied: “This is not true! Dad loved to surround himself with beautiful things: he collected bronze figurines, bought mahogany furniture, loved porcelain dishes, jewelry.” He found out about his father’s death too late and did not have time to come to the funeral. Upon arrival, I discovered that antique furniture, jewelry and a family archive had disappeared from Sergei Filippov’s apartment.”

Actress Lyubov Grigorievna Tishchenko, who looked after Filippov in the last years of his life, recalled: “I had no time for that then. I was preparing documents for the funeral, and Golubeva’s daughter (Filippov’s second wife) was taking everything out of the apartment. Sergei Nikolaevich was not even buried yet I had to fill out the documents, and Golubeva’s granddaughter and daughter were taking away all the things at this time. He was still lying in the morgue, and they were grabbing and taking everything out... I yelled at her: “Stop dragging things around!” I kept asking them for documents, to arrange the funeral. They didn’t want to do anything, they just hurriedly took everything away from Sergei Nikolaevich. Even my mug, which I gave him, was stolen.”

Filmography of Sergei Filippov:

1937 - For the Soviet Motherland (“The Fall of Lake Kimas”, “The Campaign of Antikainen”) - White Finn
1937 - Volochaev days - partisan
1938 - Vyborg side - warehouse pogromist
1939 - Arinka - old railway worker
1939 - Dalnyaya village - Cossack, accountant on a collective farm
1940 - Yakov Sverdlov
1940 - Member of the government - saboteur
1940 - Musical History - Babashkin
1941 - The Adventures of Korzinkina - a fisherman buying a ticket at the station / Maksimov, reader of “The Dying Gladiator”
1942 - Iron Angel
1942 - Forest Brothers
1943 - March-April
1943 - We are from the Urals - Andrei Stepanovich
1943 - New adventures of Schweik - German corporal
1944 - Kashchei the Immortal - executioner
1945 - Hello, Moscow! - Semyon Semyonovich, accordion player Brykin
1946 - Troubled economy - German intelligence officer Krauss
1946 - Nameless Island
1947 - Cinderella - corporal and walker
1947 - Light over Russia - speculator
1948 - Precious grains
1949 - Konstantin Zaslonov - Kurt
1954 - We met somewhere - a client in a photo studio
1954 - Tiger Tamer - tiger trainer Almazov
1954 - Reserve player - jealous husband
1955 - Twelfth Night - Fabian
1956 - - Nekadilov, lecturer from the dissemination society
1956 - Honeymoon - ferryman and boat owner
1956 - Different destinies - Kostya, driver of the composer Roshchin
1956 - Three hundred years ago... - monk
1957 - Most expensive
1957 - Gutta-percha boy
1957 - Girl without an address - Komarinsky, head of the “transfer” office
1957 - Night patrol - Semyon Grigorievich Polzikov, director of store No. 6 "Fabrics"
1957 - The street is full of surprises - guard
1957 - Storm - Vilenchuk
1958 - Buddy is a crook
1958 - Girl with a Guitar - dog trainer Tsyplakov
1958 - On the Other Side - Maiba
1958 - Oleko Dundich - Ivan Kozyrev, white lodger
1958 - The reluctant driver - driver Savrasov
1958 - Leningrad Symphony
1959 - Unyielding - policeman
1959 - Sombrero
1959 - I am writing to you
1959 - Don’t have 100 rubles... - administrator on duty at a hotel
1960 - Be careful, grandma! - forester
1961 - Quite seriously - presenter of the almanac; writer in the short story How Robinson was created
1961 - Our mutual friend
1961 - Devil's Dozen - passenger
1962 - Big Road - mayor
1962 - High water
1962 - Cheryomushki - Mylkin, neighbor
1963 - Big Wick (short story "Reckoning") - Filippov, dues defaulter / checkers player
1963 - Two Sundays - cameo
1963 - Serf actress - manager Eppidifor
1964 - Bunny - theater director
1964 - The Adventures of Tolya Klyukvin - house management accountant
1965 - Foreigner - Abdullah
1965 - First visitor
1965 - Sleeping Lion - assistant director of the institution
1965 - Cook - a swindler in the market
1966 - The Last Crook - Prison Warden
1966 - Beware of the car - spectator at an amateur performance
1968 - New adventures of the elusive - pharmacist Koshkin
1968 - Snow Maiden - Bermyata
1969 - Don't Cry! - hairdresser
1969 - Old acquaintance - lecturer Nekadilov
1970 - Peola
1971 - 12 chairs - Ippolit Matveevich Vorobyaninov, leader of the nobility
1971 - 32 surprises - Dima Kurochkin
1971 - Shadow - First Minister
1971 - Big Amber - conductor, member of the competition jury
1972 - Tobacco Captain - merchant Karpiy Smurov
1973 - Have you ever loved? - doctor Mikhail Mikhailovich / Olga Vasilievna
1973 - Ivan Vasilyevich changes profession - Swedish ambassador
1973 - At my own request
1974 - Tsarevich Prosha - ataman
1975 - It can’t be! - wedding singer
1975 - Awww! - King Ababua
1975 - An apple is like an apple - a specialist in three persons
1976 - Blue Bird - The pleasure of loving (partner of Bogdanov-Chesnokov)
1976 - A Cheerful Dream, or Laughter and Tears - Unylio VII, Chess King
1976 - Songs above the clouds - foreman of combine operators
1976 - How Ivanushka the Fool went for a miracle - an overseas doctor
1977 - Blockade - Vasily Markelovich Gubarev
1977 - Incognito from St. Petersburg - Osip
1978 - While the dream runs wild
1979 - Bat - forester
1979 - Nightingale
1980 - For matches - Hyvärinen
1980 - Comedy of days gone by - Kisa Vorobyaninov, lecturer Nekadilov
1980 - The mysterious old man - Chikildeev
1981 - Where did Fomenko disappear? - Alina's father
1982 - In the old rhythms - head of the criminal investigation department
1982 - Donkey Skin - Courtier
1982 - Sportloto-82 - stationmaster
1983 - Preventive measure - brooch seller
1984 - And then Bumbo came... - Sprechstalker
1984 - Pericola
1985 - Life Danger! - delicate
1987 - The Tale of a Painter in Love - the Chief Wise Man
1988 - Let me die, Lord
1988 - Heart of a Dog - Preobrazhensky’s patient
1989 - Private detective, or Operation “Cooperation” - an indignant pensioner

He always called her that: “My Barabulka, the most ordinary one, my only Barabulka.” She called him: “My beloved Weevil.”
- Weevil, don’t drink anymore, do you hear! You have a shoot tomorrow!
They lived together for forty years. And all forty are on the Griboyedov Canal, 9 in the city of Leningrad. Mikhail Zoshchenko, Evgeny Schwartz, Veniamin Kaverin lived in this house with a “writer’s” superstructure...
Weevil settled with Barabulka in the late forties of the last century. Walking from his residence to the Comedy Theater, where he worked, was not so easy: everyone turned to him, approached him asking for an autograph, or even just to chat...
Barabulka loved Weevil very much, and he treated Barabulka touchingly. Of course, he loved her, and, despite the rudeness of his character, he constantly showed concern for Barabulka...
- Why do you call her Red Barrel? - they asked him.
- Because she short. There is such a fish in the Black Sea. Small and ordinary. That's why I call her Barabulka.
- Why do you call your husband Weevil? - they asked her.
- And he is so handsome, his nose is so cute. Everyone recognizes him by his nose. In general, my Weevil...

When he arrived at his own concert and went on stage, there was long applause. Then came the monologue:
- My last name is Filippov. It is written with two “p”. Why - I don’t know! (Pause). My name is Sergey Nikolaevich. (Pause). Is there life on Mars? Is there life on Mars? Science doesn't know yet. But she is triumphant. Assa! Assa! (And he began to dance dashingly around the stage). I was born in 19... nineteenth year on the banks of... a mighty Russian river that tends to flow into the Caspian Sea...

Yes! It was him - Sergey Filippov. A wonderful comic artist, a megastar of his time. And he lived in his second marriage with Antonina Georgievna Golubeva, who stoically endured all the quirks of her husband, since she was older than him and wiser...
Filippov, entering the house, grabbed the first container that came to hand and loudly demanded:
- Red mullet! A glass of vodka!
If his wife hesitated or protested, he began to count in a menacing voice:
- Rraz! Two…
On the count of “three,” the object that was in the hand could easily fly out the window. Most often coffee cups flew out...
Sergei Nikolaevich really didn’t like Barabulka’s reverent attitude towards representatives of the party and government. He himself never bowed to the authorities, and Barabulka sometimes found notes with the following seditious content in the most unexpected places:
“Who sold the tweed??? Party whores!!!”
This happened after he could not find the book in which he hid the stash. And this book had long been handed over by Barabulka to a second-hand bookstore...
There were many such cheerful letters and notes that provided an opportunity to escape from everyday life and work...
And there were also invented constant rituals: when returning from filming, they did not go home, but drove up to To the Bronze Horseman. They got out of the taxi, stood silently, thought, and then returned home. And so for many years in a row...
And then Barabulka released her Weevil after brain surgery. And they even began to actively invite him to act in films...

And then... Then forty years of marriage ended. At the end of 1989, Barabulka passed away, and Weevil was left alone. Not adapted to life, he withered like a flower without water. His first wife and son were completely erased from his life, as they left the country for the USA under his curses...
Six months later, Weevil was gone...
The sad ending of this story was summed up by Evgeny Morgunov:

“The Leningrad public was heartless towards the artist who made everyone laugh, whom everyone idolized. He died alone in his apartment and lay there for two weeks. The neighbors turned to Lenfilm, and they made a decision: he is a pensioner, so the social security service should bury him. Or maybe at least give an obituary to Leningradskaya Pravda? For what? He was a little artist. And only Sashenka Demyanenko, our wonderful Shurik, collected pennies of money from actors who were already retired, from actors who knew Filippov, made a coffin and buried it. And the words of absolute genius were written on the grave: AND THERE WILL BE NO CANDLES OR CHURCH SINGING ON THE DAY OF THE BURIAL “

Today Sergei Nikolaevich Filippov would have turned 98 years old...

a witty person in life. However, fate had in store for him severe trials, including a long-term quarrel with his only son.

He looked at me carefully: “Who are you?” - “I’m your son.” “I don’t have a son,” he answered coldly. “And you don’t recognize me either, Serezhenka?” - Mom asked. The father looked at her, his face was distorted, it seemed that he was about to cry. He turned around sharply and ran away. Then I realized that he still loves his mother...

I brought a statement from my father to the OVIR: “I have nothing to do with my son’s decision to leave for permanent residence abroad. I think that he should be severely punished, or better yet, shot. I have no material complaints. Sergey Filippov."
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“Where will you shoot? — I asked the young OVIR employees. “Here or in the yard by the wall?”

Of course, I knew that my father was furious when he learned that I was emigrating. But it would never have occurred to him to write something like that. So there is an imaginary picture before his eyes of his cohabitant Madame Golubeva dictating these lines, full of hatred for the enemy.

After I left, my father stopped communicating with me and did not open letters from overseas. And if my friends asked about me, I answered that I did not enter into any contact with traitors to my homeland. And only at the end of his life he admitted that if he had started all over again, he would have stayed with his wife and son...

I will never forget our last telephone conversation.

- No, Yura, don’t send money or medicine. I have everything.

- Maybe you’ll come to visit me? I'll pay for everything.

- This is also not necessary.

- We haven’t seen each other for so many years... If you want, I’ll come myself, I can come with my mother.

“I love her very much and always have.”

“She knows this and, by the way, she never got married again.” Well, you are like little children, it’s time for you to meet and talk.

“I’ll never forgive her for throwing me out with a log!”

For some reason, hearing these words about the log, I remembered how as a child I dreamed that my beloved parents would live together, and my heart ached. Amazing thing. I changed my country, last name and patronymic, I thought I had erased everything connected with my father with a hot iron. But in the end he returned to St. Petersburg, sometimes I go to the Comedy Theater, where he worked all his life, and collect bits and pieces of his archive, photographs, memories of him. Apparently, Filippov’s genes won out in me after all...


My grandfather, a German baron, was a manager at a nail factory in Saratov. There he married a lacemaker, the beautiful singer Duna, my grandmother. Seryozha, my father, was born to them. But at the beginning of the First World War, my grandfather was forced to leave for his homeland, and my grandmother flatly refused to leave Russia.

Master Nikolai Georgievich, a mechanic by profession, worked at the same plant. Once upon a time, his owner sent a promising employee to improve his skills in Germany, and a year later Nikolai returned from there wearing a fashionable vest, decorated with a chain with a watch. Local girls shot their eyes at him, but the enviable suitor preferred Dunya, who was lonely by that time: although she had a child, she was a real beauty, and she also sang like a nightingale! This is how Seryozha got a stepfather.

On Saturdays, the new head of the family invariably came home drunk, scolded his wife, and then climbed onto the chest of drawers and loudly sang German songs he had memorized abroad, during breaks reproaching Seryozha for his bourgeois origins. By the way, local boys also teased their friend as the Fon Baron.

Dad spent his entire childhood on the street. “The Volga saw us much more often than the family,” he said more than once. With the neighboring boys, the same poor people, he stole watermelons from barges going along the river. I caught fish, but mostly caught small fish. They fried it on sticks over a fire, and they circled around in wild pirate dances, in the performance of which Sergei was especially zealous.

When telling me about childhood pranks, dad always said: “Yes, I was far from a gift!” Among his school subjects, he respected literature and chemistry. Because of chemistry, he was kicked out of school miserably. Dad suddenly decided that he was already ripe for independent experiments, and as a result of combinations with hydrochloric acid and with iron filings created such a caustic gas that classes had to be stopped for several days.

The mother was racking her brains: what to do next with such an inquisitive son? There was unemployment in Saratov, and there was no point in thinking about getting a job somewhere for a boy without a profession. At first she apprenticed him to a baker, but he made a mistake, ruined the dough and flew out into the street. “Okay, Gorky also failed to bake bread,” the well-read Seryozha consoled himself. Then his mother took him to a German cabinetmaker. He spoke Russian poorly and called his father “malshyk Filipou.” Edifyingly lifting up index finger, he said: “Little Filipou, bez srumenta i vosh ne ubesh.” Dad liked the workshop: the silence, the pieces of wood, the shavings, the luxurious furniture. He later often recalled his pedant-teacher with warmth and hard times said: “If acting doesn’t work out any further, I’ll go become a restorer!”

But one day his life took a sharp turn. One evening he and a friend were walking past a local club and looked out the window. There, in a large, illuminated hall, girls in short skirts made such pretzels with their feet that Seryozha’s jaw dropped. At the entrance to the building there was a sign “Choreographic School”. The guys looked at each other in bewilderment and chuckled: does this come from the word “grunt” or what? But dad liked what he saw so much that he persuaded his friend to come in. The teacher immediately enrolled them in the circle, since not a single boy was there. The friend very quickly lost interest in dancing, and dad began to study, and the teacher, seeing his zeal, eventually advised him to go to Moscow and study further.

Dad really had exceptional abilities for a classical dancer: jump, sense of rhythm, long legs. But at the capital's choreographic school, enrollment had already been completed, and he entered the ballet department of the Leningrad Variety and Circus College on Mokhovaya. My mother Alevtina Gorinovich also studied there with great enthusiasm. Years later, dad sighed with regret: “It’s a pity that she didn’t become an actress. She was like Ermolova in talent.”


But my grandmother Lyubov Ippolitovna was dissatisfied with her daughter’s choice of profession:

- How could you? Granddaughter of General Kupriyanov - and an actor! If I really wanted creativity, I would become an artist or something. I studied with Nicholas Roerich! Paper, watercolor... Why is this bad?

- Paper, watercolor... And life passes by!

— What kind of life could there be under the revolutionaries?

But as it turned out, school was not so bad: Asya began an affair with Seryozha, who not only was preparing to become a ballet dancer, but also lived in a dormitory on a tiny scholarship. And when the daughter brought Filippov to meet her mother, the future mother-in-law immediately categorically did not like the groom.

- How can you want to marry him? He's a boor. Take a closer look at him. This is a clown, clown! He will never make a good husband and father to your children.

- What kind of husband do you think I should have? Like the ones you had? - my mother answered cheekily.

- My husbands were from good families, educated, mustachioed handsome men. And this one is a rolling fly. No stake, no yard. Your father was, by the way, a nobleman! He was a hero and went missing in the war,” Lyubov Ippolitovna concluded with pathos, sobbed and put a lace handkerchief to her eyes.

- Mom, you're wrong. Seryozha is smart and handsome. We are graduating from college soon. And he will have a good profession.

At these words, Lyubov Ippolitovna’s tears instantly dried up.

“Is it a man’s business to kick his legs?” She became an actor herself, and even decided to have a dancer husband?!

Asya was sure that her mother would eventually change her anger to mercy and accept her son-in-law. But time passed, and Lyubov Ippolitovna was adamant. She only tolerated my father. For her, he was just a boor, unworthy of her daughter's hand. That’s what she kept telling him all the time: “Seryozhenka, you’re a boor.” It would seem that there were only three letters, but how much feeling she put into them! It spoke of class hatred, but my father never talked about his barony...

Lyubov Ippolitovna was, as they said before, one of the former. General's daughter, studied at Imperial Society encouragement of the arts. I remember how, sitting by the window, she drank tea from a cup of Saxon porcelain, which miraculously survived, having gone through the revolution with her grandmother, the Civil and Patriotic War, through evacuation, moving and returning to Shirokaya Street in Leningrad. This cup without a saucer and a few photographs are all that Lyubov Ippolitovna has left from her former life.

But sometimes, when the whole general’s family went to the dacha, they took a piano with them. It was special, summer. In winter, he was kept in a barn at the house, covered with a thick blanket and wrapped in hay. My grandmother recalled this with nostalgia. Of course, she dreamed that her daughter would marry a prince on a white horse.

One day, Asya and Seryozha, having never received a blessing, signed, and dad legally moved into my mother's room. For my grandmother it was a tragedy. The whole apartment smelled of valerian and ammonia. With her head tied, Lyubov Ippolitovna occasionally went out into the now common kitchen to pour tea into her Saxon cup. She did not allow her daughter or son-in-law to visit her. But periodically she came up to their door and knocked loudly: “You can’t do this much! It's bad for your health!"

And the newlyweds made grandiose plans for the future. Dad graduated from college in 1933. At the graduation concert he performed fiery dance English sailor "Jolly Jim". The number had great success. Everyone was amazed that tap dancing alternated with classic batman boots. It was brave. The most amazing thing is that thanks to this dance he was accepted into the Mariinsky Theater. The joy knew no bounds: “Can you imagine, Asenka! I, yesterday’s boy from Saratov, and suddenly - an artist of a world famous troupe!”


In the new ballet “The Red Poppy,” he played the role of the Stoker: he ran onto the stage with a bucket, all stained with coal, and performed a very short dance, and then, as was written in the libretto, he ran into the stoker’s room. One day, dad stayed on stage longer than expected and suddenly suddenly put a dirty bucket on the hand of the captain standing on stage, whose snow-white jacket instantly became covered with black spots. For this prank he received a serious scolding. But this was not the reason for his departure from the Mariinsky Theater. One day, right at a performance, dad lost consciousness. The doctor’s verdict was categorical: “You have weak heart, I’ll have to forget about ballet.”

Dad did not expect such a blow of fate. He became irritable and rude. It happened to my mother too. And then Lyubov Ippolitovna egged on her daughter: “I warned you! Is this a profession for a man? And what will you do?

The father had no choice but to look for another job. He performed on the stage, then there was a music hall, where my mother served and they began their creative activity Mironova and Menaker. But dad didn’t stay there long either. Soon I received a telegram: “I offer to work at the Comedy Theater that I accepted, dot Akimov.” It turns out that Nikolai Pavlovich remembered his father from the “Jolly Jim” dance. Dad immediately sent an answer: “I agree unconditionally.”

The Comedy Theater was then called the “theater at the grocery store”, since it was located in the same building as the Eliseevsky store. His chief director was not even embarrassed by the fact that his father did not have a school of dramatic art. But the actors were wary of Filippov. Dad remembered for a long time the phrase someone said after him: “Is this guy with the face of a killer really an actor?!” The only one who immediately showed sympathy for the newcomer was Elena Mavrikievna Granovskaya; in the forties, the public flocked to performances with her participation - “A Glass of Water”, “ Cherry Orchard", "Enemies". The brilliant actress had one passion: Granovskaya adored little piglets. And how the dog at times kept a piglet at home. When he grew up, Granovskaya handed him over, as she believed, to good hands. But these “good hands” sent the poor guy to the frying pan.


But on young actor The filmmakers immediately took notice. The screen debut took place in 1937. It was a cameo role without words in the film “The Fall of Kimas Lake.” According to the plot, dad was supposed to run over a log over a river while shooting back at a Red Army soldier, but he slipped and fell into ice water. After each take, the assistant directors rubbed him with alcohol, and on the fourth, they took pity on him and allowed him to take him orally. And my father liked this very much. As a matter of fact, I enjoyed filming it. Although when he first saw himself on screen, he had a desire to quit acting: “Is it really me? Yes, such a disgrace is not like in the movies, you shouldn’t even be allowed on a tram!”

Filippov could cope with any serious role, but the directors made full use of his comedic gift, offering roles of various nasty types. Once, dad even asked the director of Lenfilm to give him the opportunity to play a positive hero. He laughed in response: “Have you looked at yourself in the mirror?”

And everything continued. When he played a German in “Restless Household,” people on the street began to curse my father, mistaking the actor for his hero. He fled for his life, and they shouted after him: “Oh, you fascist nit!” And only at home, closing the door behind him, dad sighed with relief: “The people love me, they recognize me.”

But he never used his popularity for personal gain. In line for vodka we were repeatedly persuaded:

- Sergei Nikolaevich, why are you standing there?! Come on in, we'll let you through.

But dad invariably refused:

“We’re not here for bread!”

My father said that in Russia the fastest and most reliable way to popularity is through drinking buddies. And I took advantage of it. The feast occupied an important place in his life. Sergei Nikolaevich loved to order a luxurious dinner at a restaurant, inviting people he knew or somehow liked to his table. One day, dad’s attention was drawn to an important, huge man in uniform passing by.


- Taxi, old man!

“I’m not an old man, Sergei Nikolaevich, but Admiral Zasosov.”

- This changes things. Pull it up, Admiral. Let's have a drink with you.

My father had an excellent sense of humor. He was the author catch phrases who went to the people. So, when opening another bottle, he liked to say: “The old woman did not suffer for long in the experienced hands of a bandit” or “Pour seven times, eat once.” By the way, famous phrase“Two stars, three stars, four stars, and best of all, of course, five stars” in the film “Carnival Night” is dad’s improvisation.

But when the popularity began to acquire catastrophic proportions, it began to irritate him. Well, who would like it if a herd of fans follows you and everyone tries to tug on your shirt and even your nose, they pester you with stupid questions. You can’t answer everyone who offered to drink for brotherhood with the words of the hero from “Carnival Night”: “I can’t, my dear, I have a lecture!”

In the restaurant, when they started staring, my father covered his face with a plate. And if someone unceremoniously approached his table, he could in a rage tear the tablecloth from the table along with the dishes. A certain lady once asked Filippov to leave an autograph on her chest. He rushed to run away from her at breakneck speed, along the way punching a sneaky old man in the teeth who went in for a hug.

Dad did not tolerate familiarity. “Oh God,” he desperately shouted, “what do you think of me as an animal?!” Can you pass by and let me live the way I want? Sometimes he pulled pranks that included a moment of vindictiveness. One winter, my father was walking with Pavel Kadochnikov along Nevsky. And suddenly he rushed to the snowdrift and began to quickly rake away the wet snow. Kadochnikov asked in surprise:

- What's the matter, Seryozha?

He answered deliberately loudly:

- Yes, they gave me a ring with a diamond, but it accidentally fell into the snow. Wow, what a shame!


Kadochnikov realized that this was a joke and winked at his friend. A minute later a whole crowd was looking for the ring. And then dad waved his hand:

- Oh well, they’ll give me another one.

He and Kadochnikov left, and people continued to dig in the snow.

My father generally loved practical jokes. Mom told me how they went to a thrift store together.

— Do you accept used goods? - Dad asked.

— Inheritance from your grandmother? Something valuable? — the seller perked up.

“Very,” said dad and pointed to the briefcase.

- How can you walk the streets with such things in our time?!

The father took out the package and began to unwrap it for a long time. He carefully placed two bagels on the counter and looked at the seller.

- But excuse me, where is the inheritance from my grandmother?

- Like where? Here. Is this a commission? Do you accept used goods? Antiques? — and he began frantically pounding the bagels on the counter, proving their “ancient” origin. This scene could have been included in some comedy. My father was a great improviser and was constantly coming up with something.

After the release of the film “Girl Without an Address,” he lost his life at all. People shouted after him: “Masik wants vodka!” He began to fear creative meetings with audiences and avoid them in every possible way. As my father’s character Almazov said, his central nervous system" Filippov could absolutely swear stranger, who just asked for an autograph. If he was reproached for rudeness, he answered: “Rude, but fair!”

But all this happened later. And at the very beginning of his career, my father literally reveled in fame. He was especially pleased with his success with women. Life was stormy, he often did not come to spend the night, and of course, tension grew in the family. And then I arrived in time and gradually began to displace my beloved Seryozha, who had hitherto reigned there unchallenged, from my mother’s heart. People in the house stopped admiring his talent and instead admired the talents of little Yura.


- Well, what are we having for dinner? No way semolina porridge? - Dad asked, sitting down at the table.

- Porridge for Yurochka, and for you some stewed vegetables.

Dad gloomily picked at his plate with a fork:

- What is this?

- Gemuze! - the mother-in-law announced triumphantly.

“You work like an ox, but at home they feed you some kind of rabbit food.”

- Serezhenka, you are a boor! — Lyubov Ippolitovna slammed the door of her room, and a plate of gemuzeh flew after her.

- Oh, that's how it is! - Dad exclaimed, putting on his coat. - They don’t like me here. They feed me some kind of fresh food. I'll go to the pub!

Father needed the radiance of Jupiters, the adoration of the audience, the admiring glances of fans. Mom wanted her to have a real family, a cozy home, faithful husband and an exemplary son.

They hired a nanny for me. A simple village girl who had never heard of the great comedian Filippov. Dad began to show interest in her, not suspecting that behind them through keyhole Lyubov Ippolitovna is watching. “You are my goddess! - He began to charm the nanny. “You are my grace...” Then the door creaked and mother-in-law Lyubov Ippolitovna appeared on the threshold. “We’re rehearsing...“Dog in the Manger,” dad quickly found. This scene was later included in Ryazanov’s film “Girl Without an Address.” And the grandmother, we must give her credit, hid her son-in-law’s “pranks” from her mother until their divorce...

I began to remember myself from the moment I was given watercolor paints. First I painted myself, and then my dad’s beige coat. It's been like this since early years The talent of an artist manifested itself in me. I also really loved watching dad shave. And he kept asking him to shave me too. He got tired of it and shaved half of my head. When I saw myself in the mirror, I burst into tears. But the razor still attracted me like a magnet. One day I hid in the hallway, soaped the hem of my grandmother’s fur coat and carefully shaved it.


I was often left at home alone. When the parents were getting ready to go somewhere, the grandmother would immediately come up with something urgent to do so as not to have to sit around babysitting. Dad found a way out of the situation: he drove small nails into the floor, gave me a hammer and instructed me to hammer them in right up to the head. And right up until my parents returned, I happily pounded nails. And when my grandmother began to be indignant that it would soon be impossible to walk on the floor, my dad told me to drive nails into the mahogany cabinet.

The family idyll ended as soon as dad was invited to film. He received money, and the whirlwind of freedom carried him away. After another week-long spree, my mother packed my father’s suitcase and showed him the door, taking a log of wood in her hand for greater persuasiveness. Dad was offended: “You’ll still crawl to me on your knees!” To me, adored by the whole country!” And he waited for this all his life, but he waited in vain. Many times dad tried to return to the family, asked for forgiveness, swore eternal love. But, as my mother said, “the log was always ready, but he lacked a little pressure, a little patience...”

Soon the war began. The Comedy Theater was evacuated. And although my parents were already divorced, my dad ensured that my grandmother and I were taken from besieged Leningrad to the mainland.

At first we lived in Sochi in heated trailers, and then we were transported to Tajikistan. I remember the film “The Prince and the Pauper” was filmed in Stalinabad, where I played a ragamuffin in the crowd. During the evacuation, the family reunited. Dad continued to act and still led a bohemian lifestyle. I returned home very late and with the words “They didn’t give me any money today!” fell dead in the hallway.

Mom sewed at night rag dolls, and grandma painted their faces. For nothing, perhaps, I studied with Roerich himself! Then she sold them at the market.


In the fall of 1945, the theater returned to liberated Leningrad. My father’s mother did not let me into Shirokaya Street, where we lived. He settled in the Astoria Hotel, and then Akimov procured a room for his favorite artist. But my father didn’t have to live there...

One day, as usual, he dined at the hotel restaurant. Someone said something, dad responded rudely, a fight broke out, and a fork was stuck in my dad’s hand. Madame Golubeva was sitting at a table nearby. She not only stood up for the actor, dispersing the rowdies, but also bandaged his wound, after which she took Filippov, stunned by such attention and affection, to her home. And in the morning she hinted: “You screamed sooo yesterday, Seryozha. God forbid, someone hits the authorities!” Dad got cold feet and stayed with his new friend.

The red mullet, as her father called her, was thirteen years older than him. To the question “Sergei Nikolaevich, what is a red mullet?” he answered: “A lousy little fish with bulging eyes.” I'm still offended that he had such an old and ugly wife! I'm sure dad didn't really like her. And she adored him, lovingly calling him Weevil. Golubeva followed him everywhere - to filming, touring, and did not let him breathe freely.

When he came home very drunk, he shouted at her: “Old witch, I’m tired of you! I have a beautiful wife and a talented son!” And in the morning Antonina Georgievna whispered again: “Seryozha, you were saying that again yesterday, they’ll put you in prison!” She kept him on a short leash. Golubeva was a member communist party and a member of the Writers' Union, as a result of which she felt a reverent love for party leaders in general, and for Sergei Kirov in particular. She even wrote a book about his childhood - “The Boy from Urzhum.” But her text was so bad and childishly clumsy that when she submitted the manuscript to editor Marshak, he completely rewrote it. When the father was asked:

writer Antonina Golubeva

— Why doesn’t your wife write anymore? - he answered gloomily:

— The ink has run out.

Dad settled with Golubeva in the late forties. On the embankment of the Griboyedov Canal, in house number nine, where the writers Mikhail Zoshchenko, Evgeny Schwartz, Veniamin Kaverin, Mikhail Kozakov lived. Sometimes I went there. Golubeva, who was in full command of my father, tried to drill me too. But I did not recognize such a right for his partner.

- Boy, are you reading anything? “She never addressed me by name, only “boy.” - Do you like poetry?

- I love...

- Well, read it.

And I started from Arkhangelsk: “Not a woman - a raspberry, / A masterpiece on canvas - / Marusya Magdalene, / Completely undressed.”

- What vulgarity! You, boy, need to read pioneer books.

“For example, “The Boy from Urzhum,” the father quipped.

- This is very useful book“, more than one generation of pioneers grew up on it,” the great writer answered dryly.

Dad and Golubeva were not officially married, although they lived together for forty years. In 1948, my mother officially filed for divorce. But dad never received his divorce certificate. He probably regretted twenty kopecks for the fee.

With the appearance of Golubeva in my father’s life, my mother and I entered a difficult period. One day I was called to the school principal. Unfamiliar uncles and aunties asked strange questions: do I eat well, am I not beaten at home? The next day, my mother was requested to the RONO. It turns out that a signal was received there that she was mistreating her son, and he was leading an immoral lifestyle. One woman from the commission whispered that this information was reported by the communist Golubeva. My mother transferred me to another school. And then again there are nagging teachers and bad grades. She went to both the director and the RONO, trying to understand what was happening. Everywhere they told her that they had come from Sergei Nikolaevich and asked to be stricter towards his son: “He is a notorious hooligan!” Yes, Golubeva took my “upbringing” seriously. To escape from her, I changed five schools.

We were also in a desperate financial situation. After the war, my mother graduated from Foreign Languages ​​and taught speech techniques. In addition, she worked as a correspondent writing in English. Thanks to my mother, I have excellent knowledge of the language, which later became very useful in America. But my mother’s salary was still not enough for us to live on. But there was no help from my father. He even wrote a statement to the court asking to be released from child support, since the child’s mother, instead of buying fruit for the boy, uses his, Filippova’s, money to make repairs. The judge replied that then she, a great artist, would simply open a criminal case against him. Later, my father bitterly admitted that Antonina Georgievna forced him to do this.

I think it’s precisely because of the eternal quarrels in new family my father was a heavy drinker. At the same time, problems began in the theater and cinema: at the studio he said that he was busy in plays, in the theater - that he was filming. True, there was always money for alcohol. So, one day, with his friend the poet Mikhail Dudin, my father took fifty volumes of the Great Soviet Encyclopedia to a second-hand bookstore, which was followed by a three-day revelry. When Barabulka asked where the books had gone, he replied that... he gave them to Dudin to read. It was then that it turned out that in one of the volumes the thrifty writer kept a decent amount of money.

At the same time, Sergei Nikolaevich was far from enthusiastic about his colleagues’ spree. Seeing a young actor at Lenfilm who literally didn’t give a damn, dad sighed and told him in a fatherly way: “You’re not drinking according to your talent!”

It happened that he would leave the house ironed, well-groomed and wearing a tie. And in the evening, muttering “How low I have fallen,” he returned without a tie, without a shirt and even without socks! The red mullet was jealous of him all his life. But why be jealous? She was almost old enough to be his mother, and he, like a good-for-nothing child, tried to get away from her. Golubeva always kept watch at the service entrance. And my father left the theater fifteen minutes before the end of the rehearsal and went to the famous glass shop on Mokhovaya, where many artists dropped in.


director Nikolai Akimov

Someone's memories describe such a scene, which was regularly repeated. Dad entered the apartment and loudly demanded: “Mullet, a glass of vodka!” If she was in no hurry, he, holding an empty glass in his hands, began to count: “R-one, two”, on the count of “three” the glass flew out the window. Coffee cups could follow.

Despite his love of drinking, my father had an amazing memory; fellow artists told how they envied his ability to memorize huge lyrics. He could show up to a performance completely drunk, but he would go on stage and instantly transform. Akimov was condescending towards Filippov’s sloppiness: “For me, a talented drunkard more expensive than ten mediocre teetotalers." But after one incident, his angelic patience burst. During the performance, dad stood backstage. He was drunk. On stage, a glass of vodka was poured for the hero, who began to drink it in small sips. Suddenly dad commented, so much so that it could be heard in the hall: “Who drinks like that? Mediocrity! You have to drink a full glass in one gulp! Now I’ll come out and show you how to drink!” The audience was delighted. But Akimov, who was also sitting in the hall, called him to his office the next day. The director took the list of the troupe's artists and crossed out Filippov's name with a red pencil.

- Is that all, Nikolai Pavlovich?

- That's it, Sergei Nikolaevich.

All my father has left is cinema. But in him he was a god! Filippov is the only one Soviet artists received money before filming began. “Amount in words!” - Dad's favorite phrase. And all because he “made a box office”, like his Almazov from “Tiger Tamer”. Father’s phrase “Love your fee as yourself!” became popular among actors. He also had endless concerts around the country. Filippov had only to go on stage and say: “Two stars, three stars, four stars, or better yet... five...”, and the audience began to applaud while standing.


My father insisted that I also become an actor, saying that I had the skills. My childhood was spent behind the scenes of the theater, I saw many talented artists on stage, but I categorically refused, I did not become infected with this craft. And all because I’m a terrible lazy person and work only when I want. An actor is a forced person.

As a result, my mother decided my fate: “Son, since you don’t like to do anything, become an artist!” Naturally, my decision to become a free profession terribly angered my dad; he could not forgive it for a long time and often repeated: “Without me, you still won’t achieve anything!” And I so wanted to prove that I could achieve a lot without his help! And my father was also indignant about my hippie hairstyle, tight jeans, into which I sewed metal zippers from my shoes. We were experiencing the usual generational conflict.

In a word, I entered “Mukha”. And then it turned out that the scholarship for Filippov’s student had not been issued. The dean’s office explained that they had come from Sergei Filippov and said that the artist’s son did not need a scholarship, since his father provided him with everything. And I thought that Golubeva was tired of chasing me! The scholarship was returned, but a residue remained....

And in the second year it was even more fun.

“Sergei Nikolaevich’s representative told us that you are in prison,” they told me at the dean’s office.

- What's it like in prison? I go to classes every day!

- How clever you are, Filippov! How do you manage to keep up everywhere?

We met less and less with our father. But when, after graduating from the institute, I started having troubles at the Art Fund, I couldn’t stand it and asked my mother:

- Mommy, you raised me, taught me, my father practically took no part in my upbringing. Tell me, why do I bear his last name then?

- What happened, son?


“Don’t you know that this communist has already reached the Art Fund?” The father is a weak man, and she acts on his behalf. So I want to take your last name and your middle name.

And I told her how a certain lady with traces of her former beauty on her face stopped me at the Art Fund.

- Dad wants to meet you.

- Excuse me, your dad?

- No, your dad! Sergei Nikolaevich is not feeling well, and through me they asked me to tell you...

“Madam,” I began to boil. - What kind of dad is this?! Tell this dad that I will visit her as many times as this dad came to see me in the hospital!

Some more time passed. I again ran into the same madam in the corridor.

- Yura, visit dad, he’s waiting for you.

- You are probably confusing me with someone.

— Are you Yuri Sergeevich Filippov, the son of Sergei Filippov?

“You’re mistaken,” I said and solemnly took out a brand new Soviet passport. - Do you see? Yuri Ivanovich Gorinovich!

She looked at me with horror:

- How could you?

The fact that I changed my last name was a terrible blow for my father. But I could not forgive him for not protecting me from the poisonous bites of his partner. Well, if you don’t help, don’t interfere with my mother and I’s life!

I have always been a free person. One day they began to forcibly drag me into the ranks of members of the CPSU. They called me to the big party boss, but I honestly admitted to him:

“I can’t go to the party, I love feasts, women, every week there’s a new lady, I can’t help it.”

He looked gloomily and said:

- Let's fight together, comrade! We will help you!

My answer was too bold for that time:

- Thank you, I can handle it myself.

I managed to laugh it off a couple of times. But I soon noticed that they began to bully me at work. I was involved in the design of the Pushkin Museum, so I was sure that I would also work at the Tsarskoye Selo Lyceum. But due to the fact that he was not a party member, the order was given to someone else. I was indignant: “But Pushkin was never a party member either!” This was the last straw, I decided to leave.


The OVIR required written permission to leave from the father. My mother and I went to him to get his signature. But Madame Golubeva didn’t even open the door for us. Then we decided to watch him at the house. We look, he is walking towards the entrance.

- Dad, I need your signature on the document that you have no material claims against me.

My father looked at me very carefully.

-Who are you? Don't know!

- How do you not know? I'm your son.

“I don’t have a son,” he answered coldly.

“And you don’t recognize me either, Serezhenka?” - Mom asked.

The father looked at her, his face was distorted, it seemed that he was going to cry. Then he turned sharply and ran away from us. Then I realized that he still loves his mother...

“So he waited until we came to pay our respects to him,” she said sadly.

My mother did not marry after the divorce, and my father, although he lived with another woman until the end of his days, never married her. My parents even died in one year, but in different parts light: mom is in America, and dad is in St. Petersburg...

That meeting with my father on the Griboyedov Canal was our last. We didn't see each other again. Never. The certificate from him was given to me through third parties.

Much later, when my father passed away, I collected all the memories about him, about his life, from friends and acquaintances. I wrote letters to all the artists who knew Filippov. One of the first to answer me from Paris was Yulia Nikolaevna Predtechenskaya, the mother of Mikhail Shemyakin. In the forties, she worked with her father at the Comedy Theater. Yulia Nikolaevna told two wonderful stories. One day they were returning home together after a performance. We had to walk for a long time. It was fairly frosty, and on Predtechenskaya there was a fashionable meningitis hat, a fur jacket, a skirt, Polish gazufka stockings (that’s what nylon was called) and high-heeled shoes. Suddenly she stops abruptly and says:


- Seryozha, I can’t take it anymore! Take off your pants quickly!

The father was dumbfounded:

“Yulia, you’re not kidding, can’t you really stand it?”

- I can’t, take it off!

The father thought: “Why not? Beautiful woman literally trembling with desire” - he took off his pants, and she quickly pulled them on and ran to Petrogradskaya...

Now the second: my father borrowed three rubles from Yulia Nikolaevna and forgot about it. And Misha Shemyakin, who was then thirteen or fourteen years old, liked a book in the store. He runs to his mother for money, and she suggests: “Go to the theater to Uncle Seryozha Filippov, he owes me three rubles, say that I sent you for them.” Misha approached his father backstage:

- Uncle Seryozha, I am the son of Predtechenskaya. Mom told me to repay the debt to me.

Dad looked at him in surprise:

- Boy, we're actually playing here! Wait.

Handing out a three-ruble note after the performance, he said with annoyance: “What a persistent son Yulia Nikolaevna has!”

Gaidai’s offer to play Kisa Vorobyaninov in “12 Chairs” made his father so happy that he even stopped drinking. But during the filming he was constantly tormented by terrible headaches, and before dubbing he was given the most complex operation. The amazing surgeon Felix Aleksandrovich Gurchin removed a benign tumor and part of the cranial bone from his father. A breathable film was visible on his crown, the doctors strictly warned: God forbid, something falls on his head! And dad began to wear caps with a thick top, beanies, and hats. He often jokingly suggested to friends: “Do you want to feel my brain?” My father considered himself very lucky, because after the operation he lived another twenty years.

Igor Usov in the role of merchant Smurov in “Tobacco Captain” saw only Filippov and personally went to his house to persuade him. Lidia Borisovna Dukhnitskaya, the second director, told me about this scene. They came to the Griboyedov Canal, went up to Filippov’s apartment and froze in amazement - Antonina Georgievna was sitting on the floor at the front door, begging her enraged husband to let her into her own apartment. Only terrible obscenities could be heard from there, and Igor Vladimirovich decided to intervene:


- Uncle Seryozha, stop fooling around! Let's work better together!

The door opened slightly, but Filippov only let Usov into the apartment, and Barabulka remained on the landing. Dad complained to the director:

- I can’t do anything - neither drink, nor smoke, nor act in films! You can only swear with obscenities!

To which he replied:

“You will definitely film with me, and we will take care of you.”

Dad had three stunt doubles on set; they were filmed from behind. And several thick wigs were specially sewn for him to protect his head from blows. After the operation, my father began to have difficulty remembering text. But even if he forgot something, he acted out the episode with facial expressions or gestures in such a way that no one could suspect anything. Filippov coped with the role perfectly, even sang and danced in the frame.

Friends said that when he was sick, Golubeva put him in a lace bed in nightgown with flounces and jabot. I can imagine this picture: it seems to me that dad looked like the Wolf from Little Red Riding Hood. Antonina Georgievna was shaking over him, buying him flowers, saying: “Serezhenka loves roses so much!” Characteristically, Barabulka never remembered her my own daughter from her first marriage and gave all her unspent motherhood to her beloved Weevil.

For the New Year, she hung a New Year's ball on an antique lampshade, adding one more each time. In this way, every year Serezhenka lived after the operation was celebrated.

Antonina Georgievna died in the late eighties, and dad was left alone. I constantly called him, offering to help, but he refused. My father was still acting, took part in creative evenings, and received, as he assured me, a good pension. But one acquaintance told me how he once met Filippov at the market, he was buying potatoes. The father complained that Golubeva’s relatives forgot about his existence. Only his friend Kostya, who studied with him at the ballet school, visited his father. Now he helped him, sometimes went to the grocery store and cooked. Lenfilm actress Lyubov Tishchenko carried him parcels to the hospital and washed his shirts. Dad complained to Lyuba that he saw KGB officers everywhere, that they were watching him. Maybe they really were watching. After all, he himself regarded my mother’s and my departure as a betrayal of the Motherland. And it turns out that he was the father of a traitor...


He showed Tishchenko my letters: “You see, Lyuba, my son is writing. Still loves, misses.” And these letters were not printed - he did not read them, but he kept them carefully...

I lived in America, where I found myself in a completely different world. At first, everything about him irritated me. Moreover, I asked to go to a quiet state, but they offered me Alabama, where the Ku Klux Klan operated. My mother and I were placed in the very epicenter of racial conflict. I got tired of it all, and I bought a ticket to New York.

As an artist-designer I have worked for many well-known companies: Ralph Lauren, Estee Lauder, designed some Broadway theaters and interiors in the homes of millionaires. Today I have many awards and certificates: “The first five hundred in the world”, “2000 wonderful people of the twentieth century”, my name is included in the “Hall of Fame”...

But the thought never left me that with all the success I had missed something in life. Past disagreements with my father at a great distance seemed so insignificant! Only he could love so much and be jealous of my mother and me for someone else’s life, for a foreign country. Memories piled up snowball. For some reason, episodes from childhood came to life more and more often in my memory. For example, how my father once took me hunting. He had a rare four-barrel gun. We walked through the forest for a long time, but returned without any loot. To prank my mother, we bought a bread hare at the bakery. Until our secret was revealed, she was terribly worried that we had killed a living creature!

After my father's death I returned to St. Petersburg. By chance I met Lydia Borisovna Dukhnitskaya.

- How he loved you, Yura! He was proud of you.

— Strange love some...

- When we met with him without Barabuli, he always talked about you. I was very sorry that you left. Did you even call him?

“Of course, we talked, but my father did not answer my letters.


I think she looked at me in surprise. But don’t tell her about all the details of our family relationships, about how long it took to return to each other...

When Golubeva was still alive, I called my father from America, but every time the great writer answered the phone, and I hung up, knowing that she still wouldn’t let us talk. Then I began to look for another way to establish contact with him.

An old friend of mine lived in Leningrad. Her name was Tanya. We corresponded, she was aware of all my affairs. And we came up with a plan. A creative evening by Sergei Filippov was held at the Gorky Palace of Culture. During the break, no one was allowed near her father, but Tanya courageously made her way through the cordon.

-What do you want?

- I am from your son. He asks to find out...

- I don’t have time. It's time to go on stage. Who are you?

— A friend of your son Yura. Was he simply asking to know if you were alive?

- Well, he’s alive, he’s alive. So tell him. Some kind of crazy!

Dad, like me, did not suspect then that this “crazy woman” would come into my life. Soon Tanya came to me in America, we

They say that when Sergei Filippov walked down the street, trolleybuses and trams stopped, and passengers got out of the cars to look at their favorite artist.

Sergei Filippov was born in 1912 in Saratov in the family of a dressmaker and a mechanic. He studied poorly, became a hooligan and was eventually expelled from school. I tried many professions, but, to my mother’s chagrin, I never stayed anywhere for long. He was fired from the bakery because he was reading too much Jack London, I forgot to put salt in the dough. From a furniture workshop - for hammering a dozen huge nails into an antique cabinet.

Chance or a fair wind brought him to... a ballet studio. “Once a friend and I were walking past a club, and in the window we saw girls in short skirts. I liked the legs. And I decided that this was my calling - legs. We looked into the room, there was a sign on the door: “Choreographic circle.” “Choreographic” from the word “harya”, or what? It turned out, no, they were dancing here. Since there were almost no boys, the teacher gladly signed us up. My friend quit the class soon, but I really enjoyed it. This was my start in life,” recalled Sergei Filippov.

Tall, 184 centimeters tall, the guy turned out to be extremely flexible; teachers even advised him to enroll in a ballet school. There is a legend that Filippov entered the most famous choreographic school in the country - Leningrad, and supposedly the great Agrippina Vaganova personally expelled him for obstinacy. Even if this is a legend, it is a beautiful one. And the prose of life is this: Sergei Filippov graduated from the Leningrad Variety and Circus College, but the path to ballet was closed - doctors discovered a heart defect. But in the variety theater-studio - the prototype of the future music hall - everything turned out great: not only Sergei’s incredible flexibility, but also his sense of humor and dramatic talent came in handy. When he calmly walked on stage in... a ballet tutu, pink pointe shoes and a wreath on his head, the audience died of laughter. Some American journalist even wrote in his newspaper about an unusually gifted young Russian comedian.

During one of his performances, director Nikolai Akimov noticed Filippov and offered to join him at the Comedy Theater. “Is this guy with the face of a killer really an actor too?” - they whispered behind the newcomer’s back. He worked for Akimov for 30 years - until 1965. Nikolai Pavlovich forgave him for his rudeness, quarrelsomeness, and frequent sprees: “For me, one talented drunkard is worth more than a dozen sober mediocrities!” But after obscene comments that a drunken Filippov made from behind the scenes during the performance, his name was crossed out from the troupe’s list with a red pencil.

He worked with such masters as Kozintsev, Kheifits, Kosheverova, Yutkevich, Ryazanov, Gaidai, Bortko, and starred in more than a hundred films. The directors knew that his mere presence in the frame would save any failed film. In addition, the actor was famous for his love of stunts; he performed even the most risky ones without a stunt double: for example, on the set of “Tiger Tamer,” he not only fearlessly entered a predator’s cage, but also gave him a kick!

The specific appearance determined the role. When viewers asked at creative meetings why he played only negative characters, the actor answered: “Look at my face. Is it possible to play the secretary of a party organization with such a face?” Sergei Filippov, a deep, erudite man, a connoisseur of poetry, was given the roles of crooks, swindlers, and quitters. Nevertheless, he took everyone, even the most insignificant, very seriously - and often outplayed everyone.

But in his heart the actor dreamed of something else, and from time to time his dreams came true. For example, in " carnival night" or in " Heart of a Dog " And one day director Igor Usov offered Filippov the role of... a grandmother in the film “Have You Ever Loved?” The second grandmother was... Georgy Vitsin. During breaks between filming, the comic duo in wigs and old lady outfits loved to stroll along Nevsky. But none of the passers-by ever recognized their favorite actors in the two old women!

He highly valued his talent, offering roles in his film versions of classic works - “Ivan Vasilyevich Changes Profession”, “Incognito from St. Petersburg”, “Behind the Matches”, “It Can’t Be!”. Mostly these were episodes, but how many actors are there who can play the role with just their eyebrows? But Sergei Filippov could: remember the singer from the film “It Can’t Be!” — the one he sang about “black horseshoes”?

And only at almost sixty years old did he play his first (and only) big role - Kitties Vorobyaninov by Gaidai in “The Twelve Chairs”. By that time, the actor’s brain tumor had already progressed, and he was tormented by terrible pain, to the point of loss of memory. But he bravely endured the suffering and only towards the end of filming agreed to the operation. “Cranial trephination” sounds scary, but Sergei Filippov managed to joke: they say, how many brains were removed - and nothing, he was smart, he remains smart.

Shortly before his death, the actor admitted: “All my life I wanted to play a positive tragic role, but I only got nasty types. I even cried when I found out that they had cast Yuri Nikulin».

His personal life was the talk of the town among the Leningrad intelligentsia. With his second wife, writer Antonina Golubeva (those over forty-five probably remember her book “The Boy from Urzhum” - about the childhood of Sergei Kirov. True, they said that the manuscript was so mediocre that Samuel Marshak completely rewrote it), he lived for forty years. Sergei Filippov called her Barabulka, she called him Weevil. Antonina Georgievna was 13 years older than her husband. She consoled him, encouraged his friends, quarreled with his son, pulled him out of binges, dressed him in lace shirts, wiped his nose - in general, she treated him like a child.

Although she did not allow her own daughter on the threshold - they said that the jealous Barabulka did not want the presence of a young woman in the house. This couple seemed strange to absolutely everyone. Someone believed that Barabulka was blackmailing Weevil, threatening to report his drunken anti-Soviet statements to the appropriate authorities. Others believed that the actor was simply afraid of his domineering wife. But almost no one believed in love. Sergei Nikolaevich himself added fuel to the fire, calling her “a lousy little fish with bulging eyes.” And sometimes he could give out this: “To Her Excellency Countess Barabulyants... The porridge on the sofa is stewing and dying, I went to run errands and go to the store. Eat porridge with milk. I kiss the fool deeply. WITH.". These were two very lonely people, not adapted to life, not in harmony with everyday life - eternal chaos, a mountain of dirty dishes, a non-working telephone. And at the same time - a huge library, antique furniture, paintings.

The red mullet passed away in 1989. Sergei Filippov survived her by only a year. He was seriously ill, suffered from loneliness and lack of money. They buried him with money collected Alexander Demyanenko. When the actor’s friends turned to one of the Leningrad newspapers with a request to print an obituary about Filippov, they heard in response: “Nobody knows your Filippov.” There is an opinion that the emaciated Leningrader with a piece of besieged bread, depicted on famous photograph, - this is Sergey Filippov. It is no longer possible to establish the truth, but the actor himself once said that it was really him in the photograph.

Facts about Sergei Filippov.

George Cukor, the director of the Soviet-American film “The Blue Bird,” in which Filippov played an episode, invited the actor to Hollywood: “Just don’t forget to take your face with you...” The actor’s first wife was ballerina Alevtina Gorinovich, and the marriage gave birth to a son, Yuri. In the 1970s, his wife and son immigrated to the United States. Filippov was never able to come to terms with this, as he believed, betrayal. And he kept all of Yuri’s letters unopened.

Catch phrases of Sergei Filippov.

“Is there life on Mars, is there life on Mars - science doesn’t know!”

“The best thing, of course, is five stars...”

“Did I get here or not?”

“I once went into a restaurant to drink... soup.”

On June 24, 1912, Sergei Filippov was born in Saratov. Having dreamed of big dramatic roles all his life, the actor never got them - but he was forever remembered by the audience for his dozens of episodic comedic roles...

Sergei Nikolaevich Filippov can rightfully be considered one of greatest comedians not only domestic, but also world cinema, and legends associated with episodes in the life of the great actor are still told today.

His tall, thin figure and sharp facial features were combined with the plasticity of a professional dancer, sparkling improvisation and precisely calibrated buffoonery - with the ability to accurately notice and expressively convey the comic in the surrounding reality. Filippov, who starred in more than a hundred films, rarely got leading roles - however, even a small episode, for example, the reception of the Swedish embassy in “Ivan Vasilyevich,” became a real masterpiece in his performance.

At the same time, the dream of director Gaidai’s favorite actor was the role of a positive character, which he never had to play.
Sergei Filippov was born in 1912 in the family of a dressmaker and a mechanic, and as a child he expressed no inclination towards either art or science. But for numerous pranks, Sergei was expelled from school. The stern stepfather-commissar tried in vain to teach his stepson at least some kind of craft, but the boy did not turn out to be a baker, a turner, or a cabinetmaker. But one day he dropped into the club for classes at the ballet studio - and, despite tall, big hands and feet, soon became the best dancer.

Teachers advised Sergei to take up ballet professionally, and in 1929 the young man headed to Moscow. However, by the time he arrived, admission to the ballet school had already been completed, and the same story repeated itself in Leningrad. Sergei managed to become a student at the newly opened variety and circus technical school, and even find part-time work at the operetta theater. Over time, the technical school teachers, who noted Filippov’s great talent, contributed to his transfer to the Vaganova School. Unfortunately, the young man was distinguished not only by his choreographic abilities, but also by his complex character and a penchant for comedy, including in the presence of Agrippina Vaganova herself, who did not want to see him among her students.

In 1933, having completed his studies at the technical school, Sergei became a dancer at the Leningrad Opera and Ballet Theater and married his former classmate, dancer Alevtina Gorinovich. Filippov’s first ballet role was supposed to be a fireman in “The Red Poppy,” but during rehearsals the actor once lost consciousness. The doctors' verdict was harsh - ballet loads are too great for the body. Filippov began working at the Variety Theatre, where he performed not only dance numbers, but also comedy numbers - for example, he danced the classic pas-dedé on pointe shoes and in a tutu, causing homeric laughter from the audience. In 1935, Filippov went to work at the Comedy Theater, where he performed brilliantly in such productions as “The Last Judgment,” “A Simple Girl,” “Lev Gurych Sinichkin” and others.

In 1937, the young actor first appeared on screen - he played a White Finn in the film “For the Soviet Motherland.” And although during filming he had to plunge into icy water several times, Filippov did not refuse subsequent invitations from film directors. Unfortunately, the talent of an eccentric, organically inherent in Filippov, remained almost unclaimed, but he was given the roles of negative characters in abundance.

At meetings with spectators, Sergei Nikolaevich said: “I am often asked why I only play negative roles. What to answer to this? Look at my face. Is it possible to play the chairman of a party organization with such a face?”.

However, the actor became very famous, and this is not in the best possible way affected his already difficult character.

Despite the fact that in 1938 Sergei and Adelaide had a son, Yuri, their marriage actually broke up, although it was not officially dissolved.

Sergey Filippov with his son

With the beginning of the war, the Comedy Theater was evacuated to Stalinabad. Filippov continued to play in plays and films. During the war, such films with his participation were released as “We are from the Urals” (1943), “The New Adventures of Schweik” (1943), “Kashchei the Immortal” (1944), etc.

The post-war years were also very successful for the actor, when his popularity among the audience became simply incredible. The biggest role of this period was Almazov in “Tiger Tamer” (1954). Many of Filippov's episodic roles have entered not only the history of cinema, but also folklore - for example, the lecturer in Carnival Night (1956).

They say that Eldar Ryazanov could not find an actor for the role of lecturer for a long time. Filming was already in full swing, but there was still no suitable actor. And then he remembered Filippov and invited him to the role.

Sergei Nikolaevich arrived for the shoot in a state of heavy drinking. The then-beginning director Ryazanov was even very happy about this, deciding that the actor was drunk, and he should also play drunk and everything would turn out very realistic. But when they started filming, Filippov’s role didn’t work out. We shot 13 takes, but there was no result. Ryazanov sent Filippov to Leningrad and continued filming other episodes. A few days later on film set Sergei Filippov appeared again, but this time absolutely sober. Everyone saw the result on the screen. The role was performed brilliantly.

The post-war period was associated for the actor not only with great successes, but also with changes in his personal life. His unofficial wife was Antonina Golubeva, a little-known writer. Those around him were wary of this union: Antonina was 13 years older than Sergei, was unadapted to life and did not get along with children from a previous marriage, but their relationship continued until Golubeva’s death in 1989.

Great fame did not have the best effect on the actor: his penchant for alcohol and scandalous antics intensified, and in 1965 he was fired from the Comedy Theater. Filippov joined the staff of Lenfilm and continued to actively act in films, although his problems were compounded by a brain tumor, which required a complex operation. It seemed that the best roles of the famous comedian were already in the past, but in 1970 he received an invitation to the role of Vorobyaninov in “12 Chairs.”

The success of the film was incredible, and after filming the actor himself successfully underwent a complex operation and ten years later he once again played the “leader of the nobility” in “The Comedy of Bygone Days.” The actor continued to act, mainly in comedy films (“Tobacco Captain”, “It Can’t Be”, “The Bat”, etc.).

At the same time, few people knew that home life Sergei Nikolaevich became a real hell. After his first wife and son emigrated to the United States, Filippov broke off all contacts with them, did not communicate with virtually any of his former friends, and his home environment fell into complete disrepair. His last roles were as a patient in “Heart of a Dog” (1988) and as a pensioner in “Operation Cooperation” (1989).

One day, actor Mikhail Boyarsky was driving his car and saw Sergei Filippov walking somewhere. He offered to let his acting colleague down. It turned out that People's Artist, who has played more than 100 roles in films, was on his way to the station to return a ticket worth 19 rubles. Upset, Mikhail invited Filippov to sit in the car, while he went to the station. Going around the corner, he threw away the ticket, counted out the money and returned to the car and gave it to Sergei Nikolaevich. The embarrassed actor hid the money and said:

- Misha, put it off now, then no one will need us.

After the death of his wife, Sergei Nikolaevich stopped leaving the house and went hungry for weeks. In 1990, the great comedian died of lung cancer in incredible poverty. The son did not immediately learn about his father’s death, and the funeral was organized by the famous actor Alexander Demyanenko.