The film was supposed to be an adaptation of the detective novel by Šaginjan, which had been proclaimed as a work with a whirling cinematographic rhythm. Printed in ten issues with covers by Aleksandr Rodčenko, the novel was an immediate success. The whole operation stemmed from the hope of Bolshevik ideologues to create a “red Pinkerton” that would reach the masses via the American experience of the detective series. But in the film, aside from the original work’s dynamic spirit that lent itself well to the adventure genre’s editing style, the novel evaporated into a vague source of inspiration, starting out with the title Mess Mend, which was turned into the name of the intrepid female protagonist. Ocep’s stolid temperament quickly gave free reign to passionate Barnet, who, originally co-screenplay writer then assistant and actor, ultimately took over as director. With friends from the Kulešov “collective” and the comic face of Il’inskij, Barnet seemed to focus his attention on experimenting with the magic of film, marginalizing the ideological element of the capitalist conspiracy to wreak havoc in the Soviet Union. Barnet’s touch becomes more visible throughout the film. In the last part of the series, the fast pace of the action sequences relaxes, and the camera gradually begins to observe the characters more intensely. The entrance of Besprizornik, the street child, next to the reporter Fogel’ is as unexpected as it is moving, evoking a Chaplinesque tone, while the evil Čiče, increasingly less of a stylization of the bourgeois enemy, consumed by his diabolical mind, takes on the distorted features of German expressionism.