Entertainment

Russian revolution

Anna Isaeva likes the association with “Russian Dolls.” (N.Y. Post/Tamara Beckwith)

When Renata Krumer told her son that she would be one of the main people featured in the new Lifetime reality show “Russian Dolls,” her 24-year-old son begged her not to do it.

“Did you sign contract, Mama?” the 47-year-old radio show host recalls him asking. “What if they show you as crazy woman?”

Her son might have been right to warn her.

VIDEO: ‘RUSSIAN DOLLS’ TRAILER

PHOTOS: BRIGHTON BEACH RUSSIANS REACT TO SHOW

The new series, set to debut next Thursday, mostly follows the lives of six luxury-loving women whose hobbies include jewelry and furs, wearing sexy lingerie, going to the local bathhouse, partying to techno music, cosmetic enhancement — and, above all else, a very naked form of narcissism. Billed as “Jersey Shore” set in Brighton Beach, the original casting call for the show asked the public, “Are you the Russian Snooki or The Situation?”

Before the show has even aired, it has offended many in the Russian community of Brighton Beach. Activist John Lisyanskiy, founder of the Russian-Speaking American Leadership Caucus, dashed off a protest letter to the network in November, along with the signatures of 42 politicians and community leaders, asking that they “formally break with Jersey Shore’s form of tasteless exposé and elevate the material to depict Russian-speaking Americans accurately and without ethnic bias.” The letter stated: “[O]ur values and aspirations lie with Irving Berlin, Joseph Brodsky and Sergey Brin — not ‘Snooki’ and ‘The Situation.’ ”

Lisyanskiy says the show is an affront to his family, as well as his community. “When my 22-month-old baby grows up, and she’s Russian-speaking, there’s a trigger effect,” he says.

“It’s guilt by association. Bad apples happen everywhere. But when the negative comes out, it becomes a hurdle.”

Originally titled “Brighton Beach,” the show changed its name to “Russian Dolls” a few months ago, causing another round of concern. Lisyanskiy points out that the title is akin to the name of a trashy prostitution ring, and when Googled, leads to some clear search results. Nothing but escort services.

Yelena Makhnin, executive director of the Brighton Beach Business Improvement District, agrees. “Everything on television is for sale,” she says. “Sex. Drugs. Vodka. Unfortunately, that is what the public is buying.”

Community activist Ari Kagan, who hosts a Russian cable-access program, had the same reaction.

“I invite plenty of people on my TV show who are very funny and know lots of jokes. It’s not just vodka and having fights and then having sex with everybody. We are better than that.”

Many of the inhabitants of Brighton Beach say they are equally terrified of the “Jersey Shore” effect: finding their community portrayed as nothing more than stereotypes.

“I’m a proud Brighton inhabitant and I have nothing to do with all this silicone lips and that stuff which is on the show,” protests Lucy Fay, 44, who moved to the community from Moscow in 1991.

“I have a 19-year-old daughter, and she’s in shock. She doesn’t want to be associated with this.”

NYU student Masha Ivanova, 43, says the show supports stereotypes. “One time at school I had a man who looked at me and said, ‘Oh you are Russian, you are blond. That’s nice — let’s go on a date together. You are Russian, right? All of you are prostitutes.’ It’s a terrible situation. Maybe sometimes we Russians create this image.”

But 53-year-old Anna Suvoruva, a grocery-store manager, had the most succinct reation to the show: “Nothing good is going to come of it.”

And yet cast member Anastasia Kurinnaya, who is described in press materials as having a life that revolves around “tanning and making sure her extensions stay in place,” says that her neighbors have been too quick to judge.

“Everybody had negative outlooks,” Kurinnaya, 26, tells The Post. “I said, ‘Look, I want to give this a shot, and I just want to have fun and try something different.’ ”

What does her mother think of her appearance on the show?

“I don’t want to discuss,” Kurinnaya says. “The only advice that I got from my mother and the rest of my family members was don’t take anything personal, just go with the flow and smile a lot.”

Not every Brighton Beach resident is horrified by the program. Anna Isaeva, 25, who is visiting from St. Petersburg, says, “People say Russian women are the most beautiful in the world, and people like to say that beautiful women are prostitutes. So that’s why people say Russian women are prostitutes.”

The most cringe-worthy moment in the first episode of “Russian Dolls” doesn’t come from a sexual escapade, however. It comes from blonde Marina Levitis, co-owner of a nightclub, who cruelly mocks her mother-in-law Eva for taking part in a talent contest for grandmothers. “Stupid thing went on forever,” Marina sneers, adding: “It was never-ending torture.”

Eva, 56, later goes on to win first prize for the most talented grandma — even though her family deserts her at the scene. Raisa Chernina, organizer of the contest, says of Marina, “She pretends to be in high society. She is nobody. She is nobody.”

Of course, Chernina did actually sign a release to be featured on the show. “Unfortunately,” she explains, “we have people like this, they are existing. I was embarrassed.” So — would she ever participate in the filming of another episode of “Russian Dolls”?

“Absolutely,” she says.

mstadtmiller@nypost.com