Conscience / Совесть

Credits

cast

Tany Pulse

Director

Biography

Visual poet of urban space. In her works, she exposes the city's raw nerve to reveal the inner landscape of the human soul. The fusion of punk rock energy and art-house cinematography creates her signature style - "cinepunk." Her music video "Conscience" (F.P.G.) is a manifesto of this method, where the city of Nizhny Novgorod becomes not just a location, but a co-author that beats in unison with the hearts of its musicians.

Filmography

2025 / WE / music video, by F.P.G

Directors Statement

"The City as a Co-Author: A Conversation About Conscience in the Language of Cinepunk" For me, this video is more than just a visualization of a song. It's an investigation. An investigation into where humanity hides within the concrete and rusting iron of the modern city. The song by F.P.G, with its categorical "act according to your conscience, screw the rest," became for me not just a soundtrack, but a starting point. I wanted to find a visual equivalent of that inner strength, that personal truth which doesn't shout, but which you cannot renounce. The idea was born from Nizhny Novgorod itself. We consciously moved away from studio sets. Our filming process was a total immersion into the city's texture - its roughness, its smells, its accidental poetry. We weren't looking for "beautiful" places, but for speaking ones. The burning piano in the courtyard isn't just pyrotechnics. It's a metaphor for burning hopes and, simultaneously, for purifying fire. The punching bag, swinging on chains as if on a cross, is a ritual where the hero fights not against someone else, but against himself, against his own fears. The main discovery for me was the principle of "cinepunk," which we intuitively practiced on set. We didn't set up complex lighting schemes, often shot handheld, caught the moment. Yet, we meticulously selected 23 locations. Every place, every detail and action - is not an accident. The most nerve-wracking scene from a technical standpoint was dropping the banner from the roof. We had one chance, one take. The bassist's dance in the graffitied elevator is pure improvisation, born from the energy of the space itself. The drummer's scream in the boat is a complete release from despair. And the scene with the deer, which the woodcarver gives to the little girl, is that very "accidental" shot which became the central metaphor for purity and the passing on of something genuine, alive, to the next generation. The editing approach was also crucial. We abandoned linear narrative in favor of a kaleidoscope, a vortex. Short, 1-2 second shots were meant to combine not into a story, but into a sensation. A sensation of the simultaneity of all the city's lives, of a universal search. We wanted the viewer not to follow the plot, but to feel its rhythm, like one feels their own pulse. Why is this important? In my view, today, in an era of universal cynicism and performative success, the conversation about conscience is the most radical and most necessary one. It is not a weakness, but a form of quiet, yet unyielding rebellion. To shoot this video "differently" - smoothly, sterilely, comfortably - would have meant betraying the very essence of the song. Its energy, its nerve, and its "dirty" aesthetic are the honest way to speak on this topic. This is our statement: humanity does not live in ideal worlds. It survives, fights, and wins precisely here, in these backyards, on these rusty rooftops, and its main compass is that inner voice we call conscience.