Klondike

A brilliantly filmed and emotionally draining portrait of the separatist territory of Donetsk, Ukraine, which was shaken by the downing of plane with 280 civilians on board in 2014. For a full 100 minutes we are bound by perspective to a Ukrainian couple, Irka and Tolik, whose house is destroyed by a deflected missile and who find themselves in the unpredictable and ideologically ungraspable territory of war. Tolik takes a passive position and does not hesitate to cooperate with the Russian occupiers to ensure his and his wife's safety. His brother-in-law, on the other hand, is a strict anti-separatist, and between them stands a pregnant Irka, who must keep a rational perspective and cope with the unimaginable pressure with her head held high. Maryna Horbač uses long compositions with a slow-moving camera that breaks down the space in two planes – in the foreground we watch one of the characters and in the background the action unfolds, often only with sound, which gives goosebumps. The subjective perspective may not have quite the impact of the classic Come and See, but Klondike is nonetheless a confident and brilliant piece of filmmaking that renders the horror of war with cold-blooded intransigence. It doesn't need machine-gun salvos or manipulative twists to make us worry about the protagonists. The ending is too symbolically staged and pushes us to a clear reaction, but otherwise the knowledge that this is how things really happened (and are happening) wins out. 85 % (02/07/2022)