The story surrounding the TV series “Coffee with Cardamom” is no longer just cultural news, but a full-fledged legal case that anyone working with intellectual property should examine. The conflict between author Natalia Gurnitskaya and the STB TV channel (along with the production company) shows just how fine the line is between a legitimate adaptation and copyright infringement.
At first glance, the situation seems fairly typical: a popular book was adapted for the screen, the series was a success, and the logical next step was to continue filming. But this is precisely where the key question arises—did anyone have the right to create this sequel without the author’s involvement?
According to information from public sources and the author’s own communications (specifically, social media posts), she did not approve the second season, did not sign new contracts regarding the transfer of rights, and explicitly prohibited both the use of her characters and the storyline. Moreover, she reported that her pages were blocked and her ability to publicly communicate her position was restricted, which only amplifies the controversy surrounding the case.
This case is interesting not for its emotional impact, but because it clearly demonstrates that the problem almost always lies not in the fact of the work’s use, but in the details of the contract signed by the parties at the start of their collaboration.
Where Does the Line Lie: Film Adaptation or a New Work
At the heart of the conflict lies a classic copyright dilemma: exactly what was transferred under the contract and how it may be used going forward.
When an author transfers the rights to a film adaptation, it usually involves the creation of an audiovisual work based on a specific book (adaptation and creation of a derivative work). But this does not mean granting automatic permission to create sequels, spin-offs, or new seasons that go beyond the scope of the original plot.
And here lies the key point. Even if the second season is formally positioned as a “new story,” this does not mean it is an independent work. In law, it is not the wording that matters, but the actual content.
If the series uses:
- the same characters;
- the nature and development of those same characters;
- previous events as the basis for the new story,
-then it will most likely be considered a derivative work (with the author’s permission to create a new work, which
has its own separate authors of the derivative work). And to create a derivative work, separate permission is required from the author of the original work.
This is precisely where the line is drawn, a distinction that producers often underestimate. It is impossible to “circumvent” copyright simply by creating a new plot if that plot continues an existing plot of the work. Characters and the “fictional universe” are just as much a part of legal protection as the literary text in the work.
If the contract was indeed limited to the first book and exclusively to its film adaptation, then producing a second season without the author’s consent could be viewed as an infringement of the granted rights (one must also consider the specific ways in which those rights are exercised). And that is a direct path to a legal dispute.
Why this matters for business and the creative industry
This situation is not an exception but a very telling story for the cultural market.
First, this situation demonstrates that even large media projects can be built on a legally vulnerable foundation. If rights are defined vaguely or “in good faith,” this will almost certainly lead to conflict at the stage when the project begins to generate revenue.
Second, this is a case about liability. Even if the production company (TV channel) acts solely as an investor or distributor, this does not automatically exempt it from risks. In practice, liability is often joint and several, and claims may be directed at all parties involved in the process.
And third, this story clearly illustrates how important it is for creators (rights holders) to document their position. Public statements, official warning letters, and refusal to sign new contracts—all of this forms a body of evidence that can later prove decisive in court.
In fact, we are seeing a classic scenario: a successful project goes beyond the scope of the initial agreements, and the parties begin to interpret the same contract (or specific terms of that contract, which are worded ambiguously or deliberately designed to be contradictory) in different ways. We urge authors not to neglect legal advisors who would carefully review every clause of the contract and explain to the author what risks such a signing might entail and what should be corrected, because a contract is about agreements between two parties, not the imposition of positions.
The “Coffee with Cardamom” case serves as a reminder of a very simple yet critically important point: in the realm of intellectual property, there are no “obvious” rights. There are only those that are clearly spelled out in the contract. A film adaptation does not equate to the right to a sequel. A new plot does not constitute a new work if the same “artistic world” is preserved. And ignoring the author’s position is almost a guaranteed legal conflict.
For businesses, this is a signal: any creative product must be checked not only for quality but also for the clarity of rights. For authors, this is further confirmation that a contract must be as detailed as possible and protect you not only today but also in the future.
If you work with intellectual property, are planning a film adaptation or collaboration, or are already facing a similar conflict—you should act not intuitively, but with legal expertise from the very beginning.
Contact us—we’ll help you navigate the rights, assess the risks, and protect your product before the situation escalates into a public dispute.
