This is the sequel to “Low truths” by Andrey Konchalovsky. The book traces more closely his professional carrier in the Russian cinema, in Hollywood and also his work as a theater and opera director.
“I love myself. To be frank, I just adore myself. I don’t know for what. Maybe for being clever, talented, handsome. Newspapers write about my smile: dazzling, Hollywood. It’s really a Hollywood smile. The teeth are not mine. And if I smile wider, I can see in the mirror that the teeth which are natural, which are mine, have become yellow and look out of weak gums like those of Kholstomer horse.
The mirror does not show everything. You can see yourself from the front. But if you look in the second mirror which a hair-dresser brings to the back of your head demonstrating new hair-cut, it shows the loom of treacherous bold patch becoming clearly visible. This means that I should grow my hair longer in order to cover this damned thing. It would be good to forget about it at all. How fortunate it is that you can’t see yourself from the back! If you look in the mirror at yourself naked, again, you can see nasty wrinkles at the waist. And you make a mental note: you shouldn’t fold so that those wrinkles wouldn’t come out. People always try to imagine themselves the way they were at twenty, although they are far not twenty-year old… Tell me, tell me, my mirror… No, the mirror will never tell the truth”.