The screening of Sergei Komarov's black-and-white comedy will take us back to early Soviet cinema and its irony regarding the cult of screen idols. The film juxtaposes chronicle footage with Mary Pickford and Douglas Fairbanks, the thrill of silent comedy, and the story of how a simple encounter with the myth of great cinema changes an ordinary person and their dreams. Sergei Komarov's 1927 black-and-white comedy satirizes the mass fascination with movie stars and the trend of screen idols. At the center of the story is an ordinary man who confronts the myth of great cinema and finds himself caught up in a humorous chain of events related to fame, imitation, and the desire to get closer to the world of celebrities. For the silent film era, such a plot is particularly apt: the very power of the screen becomes the subject of the film. The film is interesting for its rare combination of fictional comedy and chronicle material. It includes footage with Mary Pickford and Douglas Fairbanks, who visited the USSR, so viewers see not abstract stars, but a real event around which an ironic plot grows. Komarov shows how cinema creates legend, how fans begin to copy screen images, and how fame turns into a reason for comedic misunderstandings. The screening is timed to the 125th anniversary of Igor Ilyinsky, and this is an important emphasis for those interested in early Soviet comedy. In silent cinema, the actor must speak with their body: through gait, facial expressions, reaction tempo, and precise pauses. Here, it is especially evident how plasticity and editing replace dialogue, and the viewer reads the joke through movement and rhythm of the frame. The screening will appeal to lovers of retro cinema, the history of domestic screens, black-and-white aesthetics, visual humor, and films about cinema itself. Children from six years old may be curious about the energy of silent comedy, while adults may appreciate the cultural context: the meeting of the Soviet audience with Hollywood stars, the influence of global screen fashion, and early irony regarding fan adoration. The session in the Alexander Khanzhonkov hall returns the film to a space where early cinema is perceived as a living audience practice, not a museum rarity.