A crowd of people are waiting in line to catch a train out of Kyiv. In a bread factory, workers continue to pull steaming pastries from the oven as bombs rumble in the distance. One particular moment cuts through time: a convoy of coffins moves through the landscape as local residents kneel by the roadside in silent respect. Over two years, Ukrainian filmmaker Olha Zhurba (‘Outside’, CPH:DOX 2022) has documented the everyday drama of her country during a barbaric war.
Each scene is its own chapter. The result is a panoramic epic of colossal, tragic weight. But also with small glimpses of light. From the first explosions and panicked evacuations to an everyday life where schoolchildren routinely seek shelter in bomb shelters and women search for their dead husbands in morgues. Alternately, the camera moves closer to and further away from the frontline.
‘Songs of Slow Burning Earth’ is a powerful work that depicts the mental transformation that occurs when war becomes everyday life. A testament to the human ability to adapt – and the ultimate tragedy of having to do just that.