The Editorial Office
Screenwriters: Alla Tyutyunnik, Roman Bondarchuk, Daria Averchenko
Director: Roman Bondarchuk
Cinematographer: Vadym Ilkov
Starring: Dmytro Bagnenko, Zhanna Ozirna, Rymma Zyubina, Andriy Kyrylchuk, Vasyl Kukharskyi, and others
Ukraine, Germany, Slovakia, Czech Republic, 2023.
In the genre diversity of Ukrainian cinema, an essential genre has always been missing – satire. The ability to look at oneself honestly, analyze and mock one’s own flaws to fight them more effectively, is a sign of a mature society. For many years, Ukrainian filmmakers have successfully avoided this "uncomfortable" genre – and now, finally, we have our own political satirical comedy. Moreover, it is of sufficient quality to make a worthy impression at the prestigious Berlinale.
"The Editorial Office" by Roman Bondarchuk, known for his documentary Ukrainian Sheriffs and the feature film Volcano, is not about environmentalism, Ukrainian media, or even Ukrainian politics, although these are the main themes that underpin the plot. Editorial tells us much more, and it is precisely because of this that one can unmistakably recognize the Ukrainian universe in it, with its idealists holding the sky above everyone, and the cynical power brokers who care about nothing but immediate profit... even if that sky collapses over the fragments of the world.
So, according to the plot, a young biologist Yuriy witnesses a forest being set on fire and even photographs the arsonists. As a bearer of inconvenient information and a potential disturber of peace, he is fired – and so begins the odyssey of a sincere hero, who, by fate or coincidence, becomes a novice journalist navigating the tangled labyrinth of local political intrigues where politics, media, and crime are inextricably intertwined. The director managed to weave several seemingly different problems together to create a complex picture of a Ukrainian city turned into a "hunting ground" for a handful of influential people.
Kherson natives Roman Bondarchuk, Alla Tyutyunnik, Daria Averchenko, and Dmytro Bagnenko, who plays Yuriy, sought to portray their native South on screen – and indeed, the film seems infused with the spirit of the steppes. The main action takes place in a city, but the viewer is constantly reminded of the surrounding steppe. The steppe, with its "Grail" – a marmot that Yuriy unsuccessfully hunts so that the Kherson steppes could be recognized as the habitat of this rare animal and gain UNESCO protection. The steppe, which shelters strange and beautiful people like the Beekeeper, portrayed by the late actor and soldier Vasyl Kukharskyi, whose Cossack-like presence conveys a sense of connection across times. Finally, the steppe itself, shown in a few frames, speaks more powerfully about the need to protect nature than hundreds of articles.
The beauty and vastness of the steppe sharply contrast with the greed and parochialism of the "elites," who control the city and seek to maintain this control at all costs: the story unfolds shortly before local elections, allowing the audience to observe a whole collection of homo politicus with their simple political technologies, from "viral" dance videos (a real fact taken by the authors!) to the murder of a rival. A particularly symbolic image is that of a clique trying to hide their candidate's moribund state to "push" him through the elections and continue ruling in his name.
However, is it just about this city? Despite the regional color, the satirical picture presented by the authors is entirely universal for Ukraine. Universal are the unwillingness of those in power to take responsibility, the struggle for power by any means, the division of society into a small group of activists who "care," the "silent majority" who prefer not to see what is happening, and the cynical profiteers who exploit this. The further the story unfolds, the less laughter the film evokes: it captures too accurately the corrosion eating away at Ukrainian society. The work is enveloped in an absurdist, "Kafkaesque" atmosphere... but, at the same time, there are no situations in it that could not be imagined in real life. Probably because the film's creators wrote it based on real experiences – and there is more reality in this film than one might imagine. Kherson residents will likely recall the forest fire stories. Perhaps they will even recognize the lead actor: Dmytro Bagnenko was actually an investigative journalist preparing material about arson. This amateur actor fits well into the ensemble cast, which includes Rymma Zyubina, Zhanna Ozirna, and the aforementioned Vasyl Kukharskyi; Dmytro's biography largely inspired the protagonist's story. Today, Dmytro Bagnenko continues to defend Ukrainian society's interests in the Armed Forces – and, in his view, the film's Yuriy would end up there as well. Such is the path of a Ukrainian idealist...
There is a widespread belief that exposing our internal issues on film, especially showing them abroad, is "untimely." This is hard to agree with. Especially now, during the war, when avenues for protest are limited. What remains are freedom of speech, thought, and artistic expression. Publicity works; it did before the war, and it does now, proving Ukrainian society's democratic nature. Ultimately, the problems shown in the film are a kind of "growing pains"... the important thing is for society to want to grow. That is why we so desperately need high-quality, skillfully shot satirical films. Films like Editorial. So that society can look at itself from the outside, be horrified – and want to change. Otherwise, we face what we see at the film's end: after all the struggle and trials... nothing has changed. Is that what we want? The answer is obvious.
This article was first published in Kino-Teatr magazine, No. 3, 2024.