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Directed by Anastasia Trofimova
Written by Anastasia Trofimova & Roland Schlimme
ChinoKino review: A
Reviewed by Allan Tong
First of all, Russians at War is an anti-war documentary, not propaganda.
For 129 minutes, this film depicts a squad of Russian front line soldiers and medics who are demoralized by their country's war against Ukraine. The soldiers, ranging from their early-twenties into their fifties, see no point to the fighting, are given few or no orders when entering battle, drink constantly, and distrust Russian state media and their leaders. Some just want to collect a paycheque. Others want to go home.
Malaise overhangs the film. One soldier complains that he and his comrades are being sent into battle with no information like "blind kittens." Another points to the old U.S.S.R. hammer-and-sickle insignia in his tank. (This means the tank was manufactured over 33 years ago.) Yet another points to a Russian newspaper and TV broadcast and urges the camera not to believe either. A 50-year-old soldier risks prison by leaving the front line to see his wife and children in Moscow. A widow stands over the grave of her loved one and openly questions the war.
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In one scene, Russian soldiers are packed into a truck heading somewhere into battle, and a few are chugging from an open bottle. It recalls news footage from 1968 when U.S. soldiers smoked pot as they combed the jungles of Vietnam. Both groups of soldiers didn't know what they were fighting for. The difference is that U.S. networks broadcast their soldiers' sentiments every night which soured American opinion and helped end that unjust war. The Russian war lacks this uncensored footage. Russians at War offers a rare glimpse of the Russian front lines as they are, which makes this film essential viewing.
These are the facts: Russia invaded Ukraine in
February 2022 and continues to ravage that country in an unjust
war. Secondly, the word "war" is uttered many times in this film, which is a punishable offence in Putin's Russia. For this reason alone, there's no way Russians at War can screen in the country where its subjects live. To call this documentary propaganda is to be deaf and blind.
Director Anastasia Trofimova was reporting for the CBC when Russian invaded Ukraine. Benefiting from the chaos at the front and the endemic confusion that paralyzes the Russian army, she embedded herself with a squad. During her Q&A after the second screening at the TIFF Lightbox last Tuesday, Trofimova explained that she hid in the woods whenever commanding officers inspected, and when she was caught they chewed her out. She never obtained official press credentials in her seven months of shooting and, as the footage shows, risked her life to capture it.
The documentary is shown largely in a fly-on-the-wall, verite style. The director inserts a voice-over here and there purely to add context. At times, she questions a soldier. She asks one whether he believes Russian soldiers are committing atrocities. He denies it. This same young soldier is gung-ho about killing Nazis in Ukraine. It's clear to the audience that he has swallowed Vladimir Putin's brainwashing. Another soldier turns militant after seeing footage of a wounded comrade begging for a drone not to kill him, but it shoots him anyway. Does this scene engender sympathy for the dead Russian soldier? Yes. Does either scene compel me to cheer Russia and vilify Ukraine? No.
"Hundreds of instances over verbal abuse" including threats of violence and sexual abuse against TIFF staff forced the festival to postpone screenings. Those were originally scheduled to take place at a 14-screen multiplex at the height of the fest, TIFF CEO Cameron Bailey explained at a somber introduction before the Tuesday screenings. These took place at the TIFF Lightbox, a building far easier to secure. Indeed, there were many police and security guards on hand, stretching from the sidewalk on King Street where an angry protest raged, to the stage of cinema 2. In an unprecedented move, Russians at War was shown as the last screening of the venerable festival, two days after it ended.
How did we we come to this?
