The daredevils feeding a dangerous Russian craze

A number of young Russians are making names for themselves by posting videos of life-threatening stunts online. What drives these extreme selfie daredevils?

He's got a camera strapped to his head and he teeters on the edge of the roof in a nine-storey apartment block in Siberia.

"Are you filming?" he asks, as a friend hands him a flaming torch. Orange flames engulf his legs and suddenly he jumps, somersaulting in the air like a stricken warplane before landing with a thud into a deep pile of snow.

Remarkably, he's unhurt - if a little winded. Police tell a gaggle of onlookers to stop filming, but within hours, footage of this potentially deadly jump goes viral - various videos of the stunt filmed from different angles were watched millions of times on YouTube.

Many people were incredulous, even angry. "Is this the stupidest stunt ever?" screamed one headline.

The young man's appetite for risk is unusual but not unique. In fact a growing number of deaths and injuries, suffered by Russians who among other things have fallen from buildings and moving trains whilst taking pictures, have prompted the Russian Interior Ministry to launch a "safe selfie" campaign.

Despite the deadly peril, some of the risk takers are attracted by fame and the possibility of becoming social media stars. In many places in Russia, tall buildings are accessible and fines for trespassing are low, if they exist at all. And one enthusiastic participant says extreme stunts can alleviate the boredom and pent up energy of many Russian men.

But what really drives some of the most notable Russian selfie daredevils?

Alexander Chernikov

The man jumping off of that Siberian apartment block, 23-year-old Alexander Chernikov, lives on the outskirts of Barnaul - 4,000km east of Moscow.

Even though it's -18C and thick ice cakes the pavements, he's dressed in a shiny burgundy bomber jacket, jeans and cowboy boots. The place where he made his infamous jump is a dreary, Soviet-era building with rusty balconies covered in satellite dishes.

"Up there you feel that you're standing on the line between life and death - your life is hanging by a thread - that if something goes wrong you may die," he says.

Alexander claims he is not afraid of death. "What's the point of being scared? It's inescapable. It comes to us all," he says.

But would he go to such lengths if there were no cameras? "Probably not," he admits. "I would find a different way to get on in life."

Alexander sometimes gets temporary work as a labourer on building sites - there are also local jobs in factories or unloading cargo trains. But he dreams of a career as a stunt man or even a film star. He's desperate to get out of the sleepy village where he still lives with his parents.

Soon after Alexander's notorious jump, which has been viewed more than 10 million times online, he was invited onto a TV show in Moscow where a film director promised him a screen test. But on the show, he and his family were treated like country bumpkins.

"What if he jumps again and gets injured?" asked the show's host. "I don't want him being treated in hospital on my taxes - I don't want to pay for this idiot!"

He's still waiting for the screen test.