Two films that, despite their opposition, complement each other so much that they could become a diptych...

              **Film One.** At this year's Venice Film Festival — "Russians at War" ("Русские на войне") by director Anastasia Trofimova. A former employee of Russia Today, who is now working "under a neutral flag," that is, under the Canadian flag instead of the Russian one. In a "humanistic," "philanthropic" style, which Russians are so skilled at (a tradition of their national classics!), the film portrays the "ordinary Russian soldier"... Mysteriously, the director visited the occupied Ukrainian territory as a guest of the occupying Russian army and, just as mysteriously, did not see any signs of war crimes or genocide. Although... is it really mysterious? Let us allow ourselves to quote extensively from Russia’s "Novaya Gazeta Europe" (note the title!):

              "On the eve of the new year 2023, documentary filmmaker Anastasia Trofimova met a Ukrainian named Illia on a train, who had returned from the combat zone in the Russian-occupied territories of Ukraine. Illia fought on the side of Russia. On his duffel bag — a St. George’s ribbon, on his face — a Santa Claus beard [did you notice the comparison? – A.K.], and in his clear blue eyes — a strange coldness (the meaning of this expression will become clear at the end of the film). We don’t learn much about why he, a native of Donetsk, is fighting for Russia: he explains that in 2014 his business and home were taken away from him. The documentarian and the soldier exchanged phone numbers, and when it was time for him to return to the front, Anastasia asked Illia to take her along (he left behind a wife and two children at home in Moscow). At her own risk, without any permissions from the Ministry of Defense, Trofimova went with a camera to Krasnyi Lyman, where Illia's battalion was stationed. She stayed and spent seven months with the men and two female medics who were fighting. The command alternated between forbidding and allowing her to film, but in the end, they let her remain with the soldiers..."¹

              Right, no one knew anything, and then suddenly they allowed filming and even let the crew leave with the footage. The author of the article might pretend to believe that the material didn’t undergo strict censorship. We, of course, won’t. Furthermore, as the "Novaya Gazeta" author herself points out, the director unexpectedly opens the film with the idea that Russia started the war out of nowhere, and she herself finds this "unthinkable"—as if there hadn't been "special military operations" in Moldova, Georgia, or Syria in recent decades, not to mention Chechnya...

              The goal declared by the director is a sure win, especially in terms of promoting the film to a Western audience, which is known for its love of "objectivity" and "balance between sides": to show Russian soldiers without idealizing them, but also without demonizing them, as "ordinary people." In other words, to "hear out the soldier." A brilliant move! Ordinary people in extreme circumstances who, without wanting to, found themselves on the side of evil but are trying to hold on and even remain human... They are meant to evoke not hatred, but simple human pity, maybe even something close to sympathy. I don’t know about you, but it reminds us of an episode from Amazon’s *Rings of Power*, based on Tolkien: the people of the Southlands, who once "made a mistake" by submitting to Sauron and fighting on his side, now must suffer under the watchful and distrustful eye of the Elven administration. Poor souls. Almost a picture of the de-occupation of Donbas...

              In the trailer for the film, there’s a telling scene. One of the key moments, perhaps. A Russian soldier asks what “Nastya” is filming, and another replies: “It’s a film about you and me. Where there will be truth.” This is exactly what the audience is meant to see — "the truth about ordinary Russians." We haven’t seen the film ourselves yet, so let’s present some points from producer Daria Bassel's analysis.²Daria Bassel, who brought the Ukrainian documentary *Songs of the Earth That Slowly Burns* by director Olga Zhurba to Venice, offers the following insights: Trofimova claims that Russia had not engaged in wars for many years (with the Russian-Ukrainian war, for her, starting only in 2022). The film opens with the story of a Ukrainian fighting on the side of Russia, supporting the narrative of a "civil war" and the idea that the Ukrainian Armed Forces were “bombing Donbas.” Meanwhile, both the Russian soldier on screen and the director herself explicitly state that they’ve "heard nothing" about any war crimes. The film presents not Putin supporters or war enthusiasts, but ordinary citizens who went to war solely for money or because they were mobilized. These are people who were manipulated and "confused," and therefore, they cannot bear collective responsibility for the war. By the film’s end, most of them die near Bakhmut, and they are mourned by their families and friends. Their fates evoke pity and sympathy from the audience—but will the viewer remember the numerous war crimes committed by these “ordinary Russians”? And does the audience grasp that the “powerlessness” of those carrying out orders does not lessen the weight of the crimes?

              The Ukrainian documentary *Songs of the Earth That Slowly Burns* found itself, by chance or rather by the organizers' decision, in the same festival program as *Russians at War*. This is yet another supposedly "objective" juxtaposition of two sides, two positions, but in reality, it’s a cold and unethical equalization of the executioner and the victim. Unfortunately, this is no longer surprising. What is more surprising is that *Russians at War* was sponsored by the Canadian Media Fund (CMF) and is set to be showcased at the Toronto International Film Festival. The Ukrainian diaspora in Canada has already expressed outrage that Canadian taxpayer money was used to fund Russian propaganda.³.

But let's return to the comparison of the two films. The Venice audience was essentially offered “two truths,” represented by *Russians at War* and *Songs of the Earth That Slowly Burns*. However, another film comes to mind (also mentioned in Daria Bassel's post) that similarly shows the war through the eyes of Russians, or more accurately, in their own voices. Thus, the second film in our hypothetical duology: *Peaceful People* (*Intercepted*) by Oksana Karpovych (Canada, France, Ukraine), which premiered at this year’s Berlinale. We would recommend viewing *Russians at War* through the lens of this documentary. We sincerely hope that those critics and viewers who have seen *Peaceful People* will keep it in mind while watching Trofimova's film. In essence, *Intercepted* projects the inner world of Russians at war—what they wouldn’t say on camera to documentarians but would voice in private conversations with loved ones. *Russians at War* shows how Russians want to see themselves. *Intercepted* shows who they really are.

              The Ukrainian film is striking, first and foremost, for its form. It combines long shots of land ravaged by war—the film was shot on de-occupied territory, where traces of the Russian presence were still fresh—with recordings of intercepted conversations between Russian soldiers and their families. This form carries an "objectivity" that is hard to surpass (we put "objectivity" in quotes because any documentary involves selection and organization of material). The unexpected and unconventional nature of this approach, alongside its apparent simplicity, captivates the viewer.

              *Peaceful People* (*Intercepted*) reveals what *Russians at War* so shyly avoids—the scale of the destruction caused by the Russian army and the extent of the societal degradation that enabled both the war and the war crimes that Trofimova "didn't notice." When asked whether she had seen *20 Days in Mariupol*, Trofimova replied that she "didn’t have the time." One wonders, has she seen *Peaceful People*? Unlikely, though this film brilliantly exposes the inner world of those "ordinary guys" who live their wartime routines, get wounded, and die in her film. It also sheds light on their families, who, behind the scenes, are expected to mourn these fallen soldiers. Meanwhile, they continue to support, as best they can, their deadly march through foreign lands.

              In this context, it’s worth mentioning a third film: the Soviet documentary *Ordinary Fascism*. This film, which Russians take great pride in as a testament to the strength of their cinema, is a masterful and detailed depiction of how fascism gradually, like a cancer cell, infiltrates and destroys a society from within, imperceptibly to itself. Created by the Jewish filmmaker Mikhail Romm, who witnessed the mass destruction of his fellow Jews by Nazism and observed the flourishing antisemitism under Soviet socialism, *Ordinary Fascism* presents a broader view than its title suggests. In this "mirror," Soviet citizens could see their own society reflected. Isn't it time for Russians and "leftist" intellectuals to revisit this classic and finally recognize the cancerous growth within themselves? However, it’s unlikely to help much. To see, one must want to. The world continues to hope to project the evil of war onto a single individual and refuses to see the thousands of fingers of "ordinary Russians" that constantly pull the triggers of rifles. One of those "triggers" is *Russians at War*.

¹               Ирина Карпова. Как выглядит война. Новая газета Европа. https://novayagazeta.eu/articles/2024/09/06/kak-vygliadit-voina

² https://www.facebook.com/darya.bassel/posts/pfbid0JyHcqCPYbETTPfPi4V62tunw8UcosUyrK5kkTbqx32ZCNubJ8SfSGGUWgf8mi84Nl

³               Why is Canadian taxpayer money being used to fund Russian propaganda? 6.09.24. https://www.ucc.ca/2024/09/06/why-is-canadian-taxpayer-money-being-used-to-fund-russian-propaganda/?fbclid=IwY2xjawFJGV1leHRuA2FlbQIxMAABHeQn_JB1WqpH5Kumcf_uYKyuSNkHI0JmRCziaQxuR-_tlMyagglgQrOAcw_aem_vGGh5rQO951l19a_JV4lpw