Stas
Hello, welcome to a new episode of the podcast "Overcoming Barriers". We explore how LGBT individuals interact with society and strive to find common ground between different identities and genders. In this episode, we are going to talk with Nikita Loyko, a Russian director and public figure. Nikita is known as the creator and director of the popular YouTube channel "Shall We Talk?", which featured important social interviews and documentaries. We are going to discuss his journey to activism, the impact of war and homophobic laws on his work, and his current project – a film that draws attention to the issues transgender people go through in the Netherlands. Hi, Nikita!
Nikita
Hi!
Stas
And the first question right away. As far as I understand, you have already started working with the footage. What will the film be called?
Nikita: The title was literally born yesterday. The film will be called "Transition Prohibited" because these people... they are canceled, forbidden, prohibited. That is, in Russia, due to the so-called law signed by Putin, gender transition is prohibited, medical help and support are prohibited, even changing the gender marker in documents is prohibited. Even marriages that were ever performed, if one of the partners ever changed their gender marker, will also be annulled. So, this pun was intended, since our protagonists exist... well, we filmed them in the city, they crossed the street, visited friends, and so on. In general, it's such a wordplay: "Transition Prohibited."
Stas
So, there should be some kind of metaphor?
Nikita
Well, yes.
Stas: Okay, interesting. Let me give our listeners some background information: Nikita has already shot two documentaries, "Beyond the Rainbow" and "A Pill from Myself," about the Russian-speaking gay community in the Netherlands. Tell us how the idea for a film about transgender people came about.
Nikita
It came about because of the news that we hear every day, the inhumane news, the news that is very hard to believe. And of course, people think like, I am a representative of the LGBT community, but I am not a trans person, I am gay. First, they came for one group of people, then for another, and then for a third. It's obvious that all the letters of the alphabet will be targeted eventually, and sooner or later, this will affect everyone. But still, it was hard to believe that such horrible and cruel actions would be taken against all of us. That's why not many people are talking about this yet, I mean about trans people, because it's still somewhat unclear. Even my non-homophobic and tolerant friends don't fully understand trans people. Sometimes there are people who say, "I accept that you're gay. I get it, I have a friend who's normal, he's gay, but ok. But I'm against trans people. What is this? If I say I'm a wolf tomorrow, does that mean I'll be a wolf?" And this is the level of madness that we absolutely need to fight against; it's such ignorance. They are invisible even to the tolerant... even to the LGBT community, which is surprising.
Stas
There is a problem in our community, actually, this transphobia is inherent in the gay community, especially the Russian-speaking gay community. I think we even touch on this topic in the film. Tell us, which story surprised you the most that you heard.
Nikita
All the stories are amazing. This may be a very banal answer, but I am struck by the fact that we have such heroes, each with a personal tragedy and an incredible journey of overcoming obstacles. For example, Mel's story really stands out to me. Now, I might get a bit confused here, and I'll explain why—confused about gender markers—because Mel was once on the Armenian women's national weightlifting team, lifting weights. Back then, he was on the women's team, so I can say he became a European junior champion, a multiple-time European champion, and a bronze medalist at the World Championships. He was supposed to go to the Olympic Games. And you could say his career was destroyed just because of how he looked and how he positioned himself. He was bluntly told that he was a disgrace to Armenia, that he had no right to touch the flag because his hair was the wrong length, he identified with the "wrong" gender, in quotes, "wrong," right? And it's monstrous because, in fact, it was only thanks to him that the Armenian flag was constantly raised to the anthem in honor of his numerous victories, and it's absolute madness.
Kira, for example, is from a war zone, she's from Makiivka. This geographic name is well-known, it's in eastern Ukraine, an occupied territory. I can't imagine what it's like to be a trans girl in an occupied territory. It's hard to honestly and openly communicate anything to the world from there, let alone such a situation. And I'm just happy that she's alive, healthy, and managed to escape from there. All the stories, as they say, are worth a million, and it's incredible. I'm not surprised by this because the lives of trans people, especially from post-Soviet countries, are incredibly difficult, and they have very tough fates.
Stas
I have a specific question. Every time in your interviews you ask about childhood. As I understand it, this trick is related to wanting to immerse the person in a kind of safe environment so that they are softer and more agreeable. Who came up with this?
Nikita
This was invented by our colleagues, good journalists before us. As you said, it’s a trick, but essentially, every professional has their techniques. In every profession, so to speak, a surgeon won't apologize saying, "Sorry, please, we’re going to cut here with this sharp scalpel, it might hurt a bit." If he did that... well, he has a certain technique. He knows how to cut, at what angle, so it hurts only once or doesn’t hurt under anesthesia, but afterwards everything heals and stitches up well. The same goes for interviewing techniques that help reveal a person. If you make the person feel completely comfortable, you won’t get deep answers. No, childhood is not a comfortable zone for anyone; on the contrary, it appears in interviews to play strong cards right away, to bring out trauma, so to speak. Childhood usually sets the patterns that trouble us for a long time. It’s clear that for LGBT people... a person puts on a mask from childhood, it even grows on them at some point. The life of an LGBT child and the life of a cisgender heterosexual child are two completely different fates, two different worlds. Childhood usually sets certain patterns, relationships with people, almost everyone has some troubles with their fathers. Cold, rejecting, even absent fathers do not make our adult life great. Or on the contrary, there were very loving parents. And that’s a completely different person. So, it’s easier to rely on childhood. You meet a person for an interview for the first time in your life, and to understand them, you need to refer to the foundation, and then it becomes clear. It’s the core structure of their personality.
Stas
In this regard, what are your memories of childhood? As far as I remember, you’re from Siberia, right?
Nikita
Yes, I was born in Vladivostok, but from the age of 8, I lived in Siberia. From 8 to 22 – in the city of Barnaul, Altai Krai, a bit off the beaten path. Here in Europe, I find it fun to talk about this because I say it best describes the phrase "in the middle of nowhere," it’s absolutely true. If you draw a line from Barnaul in four directions, the nearest oceans will be at the same distance of thousands of kilometers. The nearest big city is Novosibirsk, and that’s super far. So, my childhood was generally happy, but as it could be in a provincial town, far from civilization.
Stas
Tell us how you got into directing?
Nikita
I really wanted to become an actor or director. I grew up in a private house with a wooden toilet—a hole in the ground, with all that entails. I remember when the movie "Titanic" came out, I would climb on top of that toilet, pretending to be Rose calling out "Jack!" because the starry sky looked so similar... my hand... In our bathhouse, the water barrel would freeze, and every time we heated the bath, we had to thaw it. That was my iceberg, and I would constantly sink my handmade wooden "Titanics"... So, I really wanted to go into acting or directing. In my childhood, I participated in school theater, and later in college too, but initially, I asked my parents for permission, stating that I was applying to the Russian College of Culture. I didn’t expect the response I got—they bluntly said the notorious phrase, "Only over our dead bodies." I was like... Seriously? I cried all night and then applied to become a teacher of Russian language and literature, which was more socially acceptable, but my interest didn’t disappear. So, in my first year of college, I saw a casting call for television. An MTV-type branch was opening, and I got in, and since then, I worked in television, gaining experience there.
Stas: And then? How did the channel "Shall We Talk?" come about?
Nikita: Of course, there's a gap of several years here, well, at least a decade. When I moved to Moscow, I met Ira Shikhman on the program "Stories in Detail." She immediately became my closest friend and I hers. There were many twists and turns, which I won’t go into because it would take too much airtime, but it ended with us leaving "STS" and Mayarov. YouTube was on the rise then, and we decided to create a channel, not expecting huge viewership. We thought a few thousand views, like 3,000, would be more than enough, but from the first episodes, it became clear that YouTube was in high demand. It was like planting a stick in fertile soil and finding a tree the next day. YouTube was like that because freedom of speech was rapidly declining in the country, and this window where you could get a breath of fresh air was YouTube. It was obviously difficult to do that on television, so people grabbed onto any independent content. That’s how I explain why these videos quickly became popular. Initially, they were interviews with celebrities, but even with them, there was an incredible degree of freedom. For instance, Dud's famous question "Do you masturbate?" that made him famous wasn’t just random. At first, I couldn’t understand why, but then I realized it immediately strips away any pretense from a person. Because everyone goes to the toilet, masturbates, acts silly, loses their slippers and glasses. And I think this had an impact on both the stars and the viewers in the format of "Is this allowed?" Before, the entire show business was controlled by a few producers, the entire image was constructed, celebrities came to interviews with pre-approved questions, maintaining their glamorous facade. And then "Do you masturbate?"—it breaks all the polish, and we understand that now it will be a free, good conversation because now everyone is exposed.
Stas
Please tell us about the new law regarding the placement of advertisements by foreign agents that was passed this year, and your channel falls under this law. How has it affected your work?
Nikita
Overall, it has practically killed the channel. They started tightening the noose around us gradually and for a long time. Signals were sent that it was unsafe to visit people like Shikhman, Dud, and Gordeeva, making it harder for us to arrange guests. Then, when everyone became agents, it divided even advertisers. 98% of advertisers, who were our only source of income, left simply because they didn’t want to risk it. Even before penalties were imposed for advertising, once it became illegal, the number of clients dropped to zero. We still have views, but I should clarify that monetization alone isn’t a huge amount of money. It was enough to support the setup and pay for shoots, but with the sanctions against Russia, monetization in Russia was completely cut off. So, people watch, but we don’t get paid for it anymore. In such a situation, the departure of the last advertisers is basically a death blow. For example, after this law, Gordeeva said she was closing her channel. It’s not like a newspaper, though running a newspaper also requires resources. Video journalism needs cameras, lights, travel; we used to be able to shoot three episodes in one studio in Moscow in a day. Now every guest is someone who has moved far away, and we need to travel to them. This costs a lot of money. We’re in trouble now, honestly, and every day you wake up, open your email, and think, "What's next? Something else is probably coming." But I think everyone lives like this now, so it’s nothing extraordinary.
Stas
You left Russia after the invasion of Ukraine. How has this decision affected your work and personal life?
Nikita
Yes, I left Russia due to the full-scale invasion. I did it on the second or third day. The reason wasn’t further mobilization or repressive laws. When I need to explain why it happened, it’s a tremendous shame. It didn’t matter if I would be safe or unsafe afterward; I would still feel so ashamed that my ears would burn, and I would want to sink into the ground. So, for me, the question wasn’t whether to leave. Of course, I had to leave. The only question was how. In the end, I acted completely spontaneously on the second day with a small backpack, and I had some miles lying around with Aeroflot. I bought a ticket to somewhere and left to somewhere. That’s it, the story ended there. It turned into an incredible adventure, and that’s the coolest part. I have a personality that made it easy for me to endure all this. Though, of course, I got more gray hairs, and if anything, now my hair is dyed. Because I found out in the first month that I was almost completely gray, well not completely, just the temples and all that. The stress was obviously serious, and there were some health issues. But what helped was that I love adventures. Then we went to the North Pole to shoot a documentary film, and I had a project that took me to very strange places, the Arab East, in very strange circumstances. When I was really scared, I would play James Bond music in my head, Mission: Impossible, something like that, and I told myself this was a movie, an adventure, that none of this was real, and what was happening now was an insanely interesting adventure. If I had told myself five years ago that I would be living in Europe, in a European capital, making documentaries, shooting European short films, participating in festivals, living a full life, doing this and that, I would have just... been amazed, to put it simply.
Stas
Why was the war such a turning point for you?
Nikita
I’ll probably answer in an unconventional way. I have an absolutely stable association of the entire situation with an abusive family and an abusive tyrant father, which is what I personally experienced. For me, Putin represents a father figure because, well, his decisions are made purely out of brute force. The phrase "like it or not, endure, my dear" – that’s what conveys both my father and this... nonhuman... So, you can tell a four-year-old, "Well, your dad is hitting your mother in front of your eyes. So, you should just leave, protest, I don’t know, go out with a sign saying ‘We, the kendergarteners, are completely against it’." It seems that many people have reached some kind of maturity. I left home too, and not even at 18, although at 18 it was already possible to give the middle finger and leave. Maturity is needed, growing up is needed. Of course, since 2011, I was at protests, and of course, I was always within the framework of independent journalism. I had 150 opportunities to move into propaganda and earn a lot, but I chose not to. Of course, I saw all this; the annexation of Crimea and so on crushed me. But I was immature, unready for such decisions. I was always weighing things and naturally preparing for migration at some point, understanding that I would probably leave and understanding what all this was leading to, what it smelled like. For me, all of this is about domestic violence, just at the state level.
Stas
Tell us how you cope with the challenges of emigration and adapting to a new life. How does it affect your creativity? And tell us a bit about your current projects.
Nikita
What do I think about emigration? I feel anxious here, like everyone else. I’m trying to learn the language, which is quite difficult. Among the Latin languages, I know Italian, and of course, Portuguese is much harder. I’m making every effort, I hope, to integrate because I’m not on pause; I’m not just waiting it out. I understand that I need to live here, work here, build my life here, and closing myself off in a Russian bubble, a Russian-speaking, Slavic one – that’s not right. Putting myself on hold – that’s wrong, so I need to act. Very few people here are interested in overly Russian-speaking projects, so I made a short film in English and Portuguese, with Portuguese team members and actors, and performed here in Portuguese theater. I created video installations for a wonderful theater called "Bella." And I hope to continue. I participated in the "Lissboa Indie Film Festival" with "The Pill from Myself", and even received a diploma. These are all just tiny bits, but it’s only the beginning. I just arrived, don’t even have a residence permit yet, and I’m already featured in the main newspaper of the country on the last page in the culture section, with a diploma and some things happening. Damn, I need to keep going. I hope everything will work out.
Stas
What advice would you give to people who are currently living in emigration or planning to emigrate?
Nikita
There are two completely different types of people: those who are already in emigration and those who are about to emigrate. But in general, there is one thing that unites them, which is that you need to be very clear about your purpose. Why are you going? Are you going just because of the convenient geography? So you will live here, rent a nice apartment, work remotely for Russia, and just wait it out? Then that’s one kind of life. That’s probably possible too. Or are you going because everything is too much, you want a better future for your children, you want freedom, you cannot tolerate dictatorship... For me, it’s a personal tragedy when people like Zhenya Berkovich and Sveta Petriichuk are sentenced to insane terms. They didn’t imprison me, but I feel imprisoned along with them. I’m leaving for another country to live there. In this case, it’s a completely different type of emigration, and the main advice is to integrate. Even if it’s difficult, even if the language doesn’t come easily, you can always find ways. You can befriend a neighbor, talk to an old lady in the building, that’s also part of integration. Try speaking to a taxi driver in the local language, even if you have to apologize for your awful, silly attempt and say, "Sorry, I have no one to practice with." For example, I have friends who refuse to attend foreign gatherings where foreigners will be present. They see it as a flag, like "No, no, we are in the Russian bubble." They don’t want to speak English, they feel it’s too tiring after work. Well hello there, you’re in another country, don’t avoid people so they don’t avoid you later. Integration is a very challenging thing, but it brings a lot of benefits in the future.
Stas
On this significant note, we are through. Thank you very much for your candid answers.
Nikita
You’re welcome. I was very glad to be here.
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