The concept of heterotopia, introduced by Michel Foucault in the preface to "The Order of Things" (Les Mots et les Choses, 1966) and later expanded on during his 1967 lecture in Paris for architects (Foucault 1967), is presented by the author vaguely. This ambiguity has led to numerous interpretations of the term across disciplines such as art (literature and cinema), architecture, and even medicine. Foucault contrasts heterotopia with utopia – a departure from the familiar utopia-dystopia dichotomy. Heterotopia, according to Foucault, is a "simultaneously mythic and real contestation of the space in which we live" (Foucault 1967). Nevertheless, such a definition remains elusive and offers little concrete understanding. 

Foucault attempts to clarify the term by outlining its properties. He named classifications based on functional purpose (crisis heterotopias as special spaces for members of society undergoing certain forms of initiation and deviant heterotopias designed to correct their inhabitants) and in relationship to real life (either illusory – to create a world even more detached from reality, or compensatory – a structured space intended to combat the chaos of reality). (Knight 2017, 144)

Based on these vague explanations, I present a diagram here (Figure 1) illustrating the connection between Foucault's term and its various interpretations. I understand heterotopia as a space that reflects reality while being in counter-phase with both utopia and dystopia, which are equally opposed to reality; but at the same time, heterotopia can turn into those two unreal places, especially when speaking of film. Foucault's proposed classification of the types of heterotopia connects the crisis and illusory functions of heterotopic space (a mirror of reality) with art (and its ability to deceive, one use of which is for political propaganda). In contrast, deviant and compensatory heterotopias can lead to the primacy of authoritative power (that is, as forces of violence and subjugation). At the same time, it must be noted that utopia and dystopia were born within the realm of literature and may also serve propagandistic purposes – which contradicts Foucault's claim of heterotopia being purely opposed to these two concepts. Architectural heterotopia, as an “other space,” lies between propaganda and violence – between normalization and subjugation; however, within its scope of responsibility, it may also encompass opposite actions – liberation and exceptionalism.

The types and connections of Foucault's heterotopias that I have noted find an interesting reflection in contemporary Russian cinema – more precisely, in a series of films that trace their origins back to Soviet classics. According to Foucault, these archival “series” create events and are of particular interest to research, as they correlate with each other and generate new ideas (Maniglier 2018, 58). Thus, through the series, we can track the political changes in Russian cinema as a propagandistic tool forging audiovisual landmarks of the époques. 

In Russia, Moscow and Saint Petersburg stand apart from all other cities – these two capitals (Moscow as the current, St. Petersburg as the former) have the largest populations (around 15 million and 5 million respectively), high income and quality of life, and an educated, Western-oriented population. “Moscow is not Russia” – is a well-known phrase reflecting this stark metropolitan difference (Sinelschikova 2018). 

However, Saint Petersburg stands apart from Moscow and the entirety of Russia even more. The city's distinctiveness stems from its geographical positioning and socio-cultural uniqueness (Hwang 2019, iv). Unlike Moscow, where Stalinist reconstruction swept over the whole urban terrain in the 1930s,  many historic buildings from the eighteenth century to the early twentieth century were left undemolished in the central area of St. Petersburg (Hwang 2019, 12). During the post-Soviet 1990s, Saint Petersburg also gained a reputation as the criminal capital of Russia (Hwang 2019, 86), adding to its complex identity as a simultaneously utopian and dystopian space.

Director Alexey Balabanov has created various depictions of St. Petersburg in cinema, including a dystopian vision presented in Brother (Balabanov 1997), a film that “played the same role as Taxi Driver did in the 1970s in the U.S.: the returning war hero-idealist commits violence and evil in the name of justice as he sees it.” (Dolin 2024, chap. 1)  “The degradation of the beauty and grandiosity in the cityscape is apparent in  the 1990s films in a similar fashion to Dostoevsky’s portrayals of nineteenth-century Petersburg” (Hwang 2019, 87). Meanwhile, in his only melodrama, It Doesn’t Hurt Me  (Balabanov 2006), the director presents a different Petersburg: “The film reveals the  softer side of the city without bloody scenes of violence and cruelty, the peaceful life of everyday city” ((Hwang 2019, 109) – that is, its heterotopian face.

Through the analysis of just three examples of St. Petersburg’s depiction in Russian cinema, it is possible to trace how the use of heterotopic tropes in film evolves, following the dynamics of Russia's broader political narrative. The first film, Autumn Marathon (1979) is a classic Soviet melodrama by Georgiy Daneliya whose career featured numerous films centered around emotional journeys. The other two films were made in 2006 and represent the fork that Russia reached economically by the mid-wealthy 2000s. It Doesn’t Hurt Me  (Balabanov), continued the tradition of introspective reflections and hints of despair with characteristic realism. Meanwhile, Piter FM (Bychkova 2006) introduced a new chapter in Russian melodrama – a sweet escape from reality, centered on consumerism and national pride. 

The plot of Autumn Marathon revolves around a love triangle involving translator Andrei Buzykin, his wife Nina, and his mistress Alla, whom he struggles to choose between. A similar indecisiveness is observed at work – at the university and in his translation practice: for example, Andrei takes a long time to refuse to shake hands with a boss he doesn’t respect, struggles to deny careless students or colleagues who constantly ask for his help, even presenting their texts as his own; he goes along with a drinking neighbor and a foreign colleague who finds himself in a comical situation with this neighbor, ending up in a sobering center and learning a multitude of new Russian words. Buzykin is always rushing and perpetually late, and when he finally relies on fate to decide his future, fate plays a cruel trick on him – both women who left him return. Thus, he remains trapped, living a life reflected in the mirror of heterotopia, which is an inversion of the late Soviet ideal of a strong family, firm principles, and faith in a bright communist future. 

For Alexei Balabanov, his only melodrama, showcasing a parade-daily, non-bloody Petersburg, became a kind of redemption for the diptych Brother, which romanticized violence (to what extent became clear in February 2022 – when the words of the main character, Danila Bagrov – “You don’t abandon your own in war”[1] – have become a justification for the government and many Russians who initially disapproved of the invasion of Ukraine). It Doesn’t Hurt Me is the story of a young, energetic architect Misha, who, with two companions (a talented artist Alya, who at the end of the film is set to marry a Finn, and a former soldier and engineer Oleg, who returns from Chechnya and, in the end, goes back to his hometown in the provinces), opens a practice renovating apartments for the nouveau riche. During his activities, he meets Tata, who turns out to be a mistress of a mafioso, penniless but connecting newly minted entrepreneurs with wealthy clients. Misha and Tata’s secret relationship becomes apparent to her benefactor, however, it’s not this revelation that destroys them, but the fatal illness the girl suffers from. In a desperate attempt to spare her lover the pain of loss, she flees from him and hides in a hospital, where Misha eventually finds her after stumbling among recommended clients upon her treating doctor. The characters of the film continuously repeat in different situations that they feel no pain until Misha eventually confesses to Tata the penetrating emotional pain he experiences. In fact, we see on screen metaphorically the constant pain of the director for his country: it reflects in the echoes of war in Oleg and his troop comrades' behavior, in the characters’ struggle to survive and grasp their 'golden' share from the pockets of the oligarchs profiting from the impoverished population, in the dream of a better life, which is, however, only possible in prosperous Finland. Once again, we are presented with a closed circuit of the heterotopia, which, however, does not deceive the viewer but makes them reflect on their own life, not indulging in illusions.

A completely different tone is set by Oksana Bychkova's film Piter FM, whose characters, architect Maxim and radio host Masha, fate brings together through a mobile phone, lost by Masha and found by Maxim. Throughout the film, they call each other, trying to arrange a meeting that never materializes. Simultaneously, the viewer becomes a witness to the lives of both characters (undoubtedly, the guarantee of the balance of this portrayal is a female director). Masha is preparing for a wedding with her constantly controlling partner – and in the end, she finds the strength to break off the engagement for her freedom. Maxim, living in a janitor's room but planning to leave for Berlin, where he was offered a job as an architect, cannot shake his doubts – he doesn’t want to leave his beloved Petersburg, he experiences separation from his girlfriend and falls in love with Masha over the phone. This gives him the strength to reject the foreign offer, choosing 'happiness at home.' Even the loss of the phone in the canal is resolved by the filmmakers through a deus ex machina – a chance encounter of the heroes at the quay opposite the mysterious house of Kapustin and their ‘recognition’ of each other. This ending is full of illusion, and the film no longer shows any signs of real-world problems that the characters could not resolve or easily turn a blind eye to. Thus, the viewer is fully enveloped in the warm blanket of a heterotopian melodrama, transporting them into a utopian space of a ‘beautiful Russia,’ where nothing is required of them except to enjoy private life and to 'stay out of politics' (a favorite phrase of Russian authorities).

These three films, forming a series in the Foucaultian sense, reflect a crossroads where Russian film narrative shifted from attempts at critical reflection on the fate of the country to complete non-intervention and the atomization of a population immersed in the pleasures of consumerism. At the same time, they bring together the main components of Foucault's heterotopia concept: cinema as a medium mirroring reality, the newly estranged city as setting, the ghost of an everlasting utopia of the "abroad" lingering on the horizon, and protagonists who characteristically imagine spaces as writers and architects.

Bibliography

Balabanov, Aleksey, dir. 1997. Brother / Брат. https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0118767/.

———, dir. 2006. It Doesn’t Hurt Me / Мне не больно. https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0813541/ Full movie: https://youtu.be/1yp_S9J7LzQ?si=T9IvAClhis3H8tze (with official English subtitles).

Bychkova, Oksana, dir. 2006. Piter FM / Питер FM. https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0813541/ Full movie: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=acLNZod1hjM (only Russian).

Daneliya, Georgiy, dir. 1979. Autumn Marathon / Осенний марафон. https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0079679/ Full movie: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X4e4-tYlHwo&t=6s (with official English subtitles).

Dolin, Anton. 2024. Bad Russians: Cinema from “Brother” to “The Boy’s Word” / Плохие русские. Кино от „Брата“ до „Слова пацана“. Riga: Meduza.

Foucault, Michel. 1967. “Of Other Spaces, Heterotopias.” Michel Foucault, Info. 1967. https://foucault.info/documents/heterotopia/foucault.heteroTopia.en/.

Hwang, Kiun. 2019. “Heritage, Cinema, and Identity.” Ph.D., Pittsburgh: University of Pittsburgh. https://www.proquest.com/docview/2377722924.

Knight, Kelvin T. 2017. “Placeless Places: Resolving the Paradox of Foucault’s Heterotopia.” Textual Practice 31 (1): 141–58. https://doi.org/10.1080/0950236X.2016.1156151.

Maniglier, Patrice. 2018. “Versions of the Present: Foucault’s Metaphysics of the Event Illuminated by Cinema.” In Foucault at the Movies, edited by Patrice Maniglier and Dork Zabunyan, 35–102. New York: Columbia University Press.

Sinelschikova, Yekaterina. 2018. “Why Moscow and St. Petersburg Aren’t Russia.” Russia Beyond. December 17, 2018. https://www.rbth.com/lifestyle/329689-why-moscow-not-russia.