Two years into the devastating invasion of Ukraine by Russia, I found myself enveloped in the collective grief and resilience of displaced Ukrainians, Ukrainian Americans, and their supporters at a screening in San Francisco's Polish Club. The occasion was a preview of work in progress materials, "Awoken by War," a documentary that intricately portrays the spiritual odyssey of a nation grappling with the collective trauma of war. As someone who has tread the path from a passionate documentary filmmaker to a corporate professional, the raw emotions stirred by this film rekindled a fire in me, reminiscent of my early days of storytelling driven by a quest for justice.
Personal Connection and Filmmaker's Perspective:
"Greensboro's Child," is my independent documentary chronicling the Greensboro Massacre of 1979—an endeavor that sparked my fervor and call to action decades earlier. This self-funded project, which took seven years to complete, was more than a mere film; it stood as a pledge to illuminate stories left in the dark, profoundly influencing the outset of my career. Even as my professional path has evolved, the core of documentary filmmaking—the pursuit of raw, unvarnished human truths—has remained a fundamental passion. Watching "Awoken by War" stirred something deep within me, rekindling my appreciation for the unique ability of documentaries to tell compelling stories that demand to be acknowledged, witnessed, and emotionally absorbed.
Documentary Overview:
"Awoken by War" by Iryna Pravylo, is a beautifully crafted narrative set against the backdrop of a nation's fight for survival and dignity. The documentary opens with a hauntingly serene shot of a dirt road, leading to the remnants of a destroyed bridge—a metaphor for the shattered lives and landscapes of Ukraine. Through meticulously captured drone footage, interviews, and a carefully curated score, the film immerses viewers in the heart-wrenching reality of a country ravaged by conflict. The juxtaposition of serene cinematography with the horrors of war accentuates the resilience and indomitable spirit of the Ukrainian people.
The documentary weaves together three poignant stories: a priest from St. Andrew Church in Bucha, bearing witness to the atrocities committed in his community; a family torn apart by the occupation but eventually reunited; and the heartfelt accounts of a driver and a mechanic in the Ukrainian army.
As I watched the interviews, a part of me resonated deeply with the direct gaze of the interviewees into the camera, as if they were sharing their stories with me personally. This method, as opposed to them looking away and conversing with someone off-camera, enhanced the intimacy and impact of their narratives. Despite being an American and thus having to read subtitles, I found the experience far from overwhelming. The pacing was masterfully executed, allowing the interviewees to articulate their experiences and emotions without hurried cuts, even in silence—which, at times, spoke volumes through their body language and facial expressions.
Iryna's deep engagement with the film's narrative, as this project represents her story, infuses the documentary with unparalleled authenticity and depth. Impressively, the documentary encapsulates the ongoing conflict not through depictions of violence—eschewing scenes of bombings, shootings, and explicit aggression—but through the poignant testimonies of those affected. It focuses on individuals sharing their experiences of loss, their homeland in chaos, and the collective ordeal of war. This approach, highlighting the human aspect rather than the brutality of conflict, struck me as profoundly moving and elicited a strong sense of empathy.
The documentary abstains from graphic war imagery, opting instead to convey the horrors through the aftermath—destroyed apartments, schools, and playgrounds—with the haunting sound of bomb alarms in the background, immersing the viewer in the stark reality of those living through it. The camera work is gentle, guiding us through the devastation with care and allowing us to fully absorb the gravity of each scene. Drone footage reveals the extent of the damage from an aerial perspective, offering a meticulous, contemplative view of the destruction.
The film's score is another masterpiece, beautifully capturing the trauma and the journey through subtle nuances in sound. At times quiet, at others lightly touched by music, it is perfectly attuned to the film's mood and setting, leaving a lasting impression on me.
This documentary touched me deeply, evoking a spectrum of emotions—from anger and sadness to a compelling urge to act. After the film, a panelist's quote from Andriy Halavin, the priest in the documentary, stuck with me after seeing the movie: "Ask not why this happened to us, but for what?" Initially, my thoughts raced to condemn the aggressiveness of Russia, a path leading to futile resentment over things beyond my control. However, reflecting on the purpose of watching the documentary shifted my perspective towards what I can do. As an American citizen and documentary filmmaker, I feel compelled to ask my lawmakers to support Ukraine and pass the aid bill that is waiting in the House of Representatives to help them in their fight for freedom and independence. This review is a step towards that commitment, sharing my experience and the profound impact of the film in hopes of inspiring action.