"The man who saved the world." The very name of this feature-documentary film looked, frankly, banal, and therefore, as it initially seemed to your humble servant, it did not imply an exciting viewing. All the more strange (before watching) were the positive reviews of colleagues who had time to watch the tape of Danish filmmakers at a series of premieres.
Keeping in mind how, in principle, our (Soviet / Russian) military personnel are shown by Western filmmakers, it was predicted that something from the series “Half-drunk inadequate, who threw a felt boot on the console” was predicted - as a mixture of Western disdain with internal (not always amenable to analysis) self-irony.
The opening shots of the film by Peter Anthony and Jacob Starberg began, it was, to confirm the guesses that the film was from a series of propaganda Russophobic shit: alcohol bottles scattered in the house of a retired officer, dirt, a ribbon with sticky flies, a dull view from an unwashed window. I wanted to go out so as not to witness another anti-Soviet / anti-Russian order with a claim to documentary filmmaking.
But he didn’t come out … And he didn’t regret it. I honestly didn’t regret it.
Now I have re-read what I have written, and decided that it looks as if these same Anthony and Starberg had sponsored the "Military Review" in order for us to promote their film here. He grinned … If anyone thinks that this is exactly the case, then this, of course, is his own business, but only he will be extremely mistaken. In fact, the material contains an absolutely personal author's assessment of what had to be seen on the screen. Audience assessment, not imposed on anyone.
And on the screen I saw something that, perhaps, I had never seen from Western filmmakers before: the Soviet officer is shown not as the fruit of a sick fantasy of his service from another liberal screenwriter, but, firstly, as a person who has both a soul and own opinion, secondly, from the first person.
We are talking about a person who, frankly, is not widely known in our country. He did not fly into space, did not command the front, was not a "permanent military expert" on TV. He was and will forever remain the Soviet officer Stanislav Petrov, who 35 years ago - on a September night in 1983 - really saved humanity from an imminent nuclear catastrophe. Without pathos! He saved humanity with his difficult individual decision.
The idea of the Danish filmmakers, by and large, is understandable: to show a Soviet officer who risked going against the system, ignoring the instructions, and the Soviet system, in fact, did not forgive him for this, since his decision hit his bosses with "big stars" and jackets with access to long black limousines and even longer dark carpeted corridors. To be honest, it can be traced “in places” in the film. But still, even if such a goal was pursued by the creators of the film "The Man Who Saved the World", then in the end it did not become dominant.
The main thing was what was told about man as the crown of the creation of nature - with all his shortcomings and advantages. And the main advantage in this case is the presence of reason, intellect, not disfigured by paper prescriptions, often born by bureaucrats.- A person who, even in the most difficult conditions, is able not to look for a way to curry favor, hiding behind someone's back, but who is ready to take responsibility. And he took responsibility. I took it because I was a real officer - a), a real person - b) and was not, as they say now, a "couch warrior" - c).
This, sitting on a soft sofa, one can easily argue that "we just need to press a button to show strength and power." But in fact, strength and power lies not just in poking with sweaty palms on all buttons that come to hand, but in making the only right decision, behind which millions of human lives can stand.
There is no point in retelling the entire film. Those who are interested will see for themselves.
It is based on real events - the very ones when, on September 26, 1983, Lieutenant Colonel of the Air Defense Forces Stanislav Petrov took over as an operational duty officer at the Serpukhov-15 command post. It was on that night that the previously adopted (largely crude) early warning system US-KS "Oko" issued signals about launches from continental positions in the United States of five LGM-30 Minuteman ICBMs. The signal reception interval was several minutes. According to the instructions, Lieutenant Colonel Petrov, after the first actuation of the system, must take action - inform the command about the need for retaliatory actions. However, Stanislav Petrov, after the first actuation of the "Oko" system, which, apparently, took for the launch of ICBMs "play of light" (reflection of sunlight from clouds located at high altitudes), reported - "false alarm."
Many of Lieutenant Colonel Petrov's colleagues were openly perplexed about his decision. Meanwhile, the visual observation team was trying to track the route of the missiles on screens that received information from satellites. No visual evidence of US ICBM launches was received, but the computer stubbornly signaled a missile attack on the USSR.
The decision to retaliate was not taken, which made the situation at the command post extremely nervous. When the first pseudo-missile "entered" the Soviet radar detection zone, the false alarm information was confirmed - there were no launches. It was the early detection system that played a cruel joke, which, if Lieutenant Colonel Petrov made a decision according to the instructions, could, without exaggeration, bury humanity.
It is both about the measure of responsibility and about the role of an individual person in the history of civilization. Yes - many instructions are written in blood, but there are those who unequivocally say that people should place too high hopes on the created "hardware" in order to indulge their pride and admire, as a person "easily conquers nature." Thank God, nature selects such people who are ready to prove that not every directive needs to be blindly trusted, as then - on the autumn night of 1983, when the planet had only one chance. This chance had its own name - Stanislav Petrov, Lieutenant Colonel of the Armed Forces of the Soviet Union.
