Cara-Lynn BranchMilitantropos is a Ukrainian documentary feature directed by Alina Gorlova, Simon Mozgovyi, and Yelizaveta Smit, who also wrote the film along with Maksym Nakonechnyi. The title is a word that is formed from the Latin word for soldier (“milit”) and the Greek word for human (“antropos”). It is very much reflective of Ukraine now, in the present, in the ongoing war with Russia since the invasion of their country.
The documentary does not have interviews; the only “talking heads” are those captured in conversation in what seems like the natural act of speech. The film gives the appearance of capturing moments, capturing life, and not of staging events, but rather forming connections with what happens naturally.
Because of this approach, what’s immediately present and arresting in the film is just the quietness of the destruction. By not engaging with its subjects, it leaves everything bare. Whether it’s the graves being filled or what appears to be an old preschool, where the walls have been turned from childish paintings to documentation of events and lists of the dead, it creates stark, resonant images that linger long after the scene moves on. This first section is also in black and white.
The film breaks up sections with blurbs that define “Militantropos,” and one of the early ones says that “Militantropos chooses to accept war as the one and only option to exist.” This phrasing paints a very bleak concept, and while the film does not shy away from the trauma of those fighting in and surrounded by the ongoing war, the film also shows a lot of images of resilience and hope. I think of the images of the kids on the street waving the Ukrainian flag and the scenes of the soldiers joking about eating too many sweets. The images of life coming back after the bombing and destruction: of an old lady nurturing and encouraging her plants to grow out of the rubble, or someone repairing a broken wall with old clothes.
But even more than that, I think of spring blooming above now abandoned trenches, with families and pets running around them, playing at the park, despite the barbed wire still there. Spring is healing, and they are trying to come back, and kids and families are playing and enjoying life. Yet, one has to acknowledge that the concept of accepting war as the only option does linger, because the barbed wire is present, and the kids are playing as soldiers. However, rather than linger on the dark side, I will look at the resilience of it, the ability to find hope and joy even during the hard times, so that when the war does end, they still have a home and a future they can build brighter. All these scenes, captured in vibrant colour in contrast to those opening scenes, lead me to believe that perhaps that was the intention of the filmmakers, despite the blurbs, to show the resilience and a hope brighter tomorrow, despite the darkness of today. That Ukraine won’t be Militantropos forever.
Militantropos had its World Premiere at Cannes as part of the Directors’ Fortnight (Quinzaine des cinéastes) program. Square Eyes acquired worldwide rights to the film.
