‘2000 Meters to Andriivka’ Review: Latest Ukraine Doc From ‘20 Days in Mariupol’ Helmer Packs a Visceral, Existential Punch

by

Approximately two years following the Sundance premiere of “20 Days in Mariupol,” which eventually secured an Oscar for documentary feature, Mstyslav Chernov solidifies his role as a significant documenter of Ukraine post-Russian invasion with the film titled “2000 Meters to Andriivka.

The recently released documentary titled “2000 Meters to Andriivka“, produced by PBS Frontline and Associated Press, shifts Chernov’s lens from civilians under urban siege to young soldiers spearheading the 2023 Ukrainian counteroffensive. Partly a gritty, personal portrayal of this specific war and partly a philosophical exploration of the fleeting essence of contemporary warfare in general, “2000 Meters to Andriivka” might not be as immediate or distressing as “20 Days in Mariupol“, but its lingering effect could potentially have a deeper impact on shaping the public’s perception of the ongoing conflict.

In September 2023, journalist Chernov and his Associated Press colleague Alex Babenko chose to join a small Ukrainian military unit in their efforts to free the minuscule village of Andriivka, located on the route supplying Bakhmut city. The outcome is uncertain, with questions lingering about who or what will be left to liberate. However, Chernov wishes to witness the moment the Ukrainian flag is hoisted (the location and method of this event remain unclear). As Fedya, one of several young soldiers who pass through the documentary’s 106 minutes, explains, they are not only fighting for territory but also reclaiming a name and earning the chance to rebuild.

Approaching Andriivka lies just 2,000 meters ahead. As Chernov explains, this distance translates into different durations depending on the mode of travel: it’s a quick two-minute drive, a more strenuous 10-minute run, or a swift 35 seconds for a fired mortar to reach its target. However, the soldiers have been fighting for three long months to cover this ground. This journey is fraught with danger, particularly as it follows a narrow forest path sandwiched between expansive fields littered with Russian mines. The thin forest provides scant protection from aerial assaults and only temporary spots for digging in. Yet, it offers both sides opportunities for concealment – the hidden trenches and caves could be occupied by friendly or enemy forces, sometimes so close that they can exchange words across the furrows.

I gather tidbits from Western media outlets about the counteroffensive, maintaining a detached perspective as I ponder their analysis on the possible futility and defeat, coldly guessing at the underlying reasons and the potential for surrender.

The chasm between impersonal reports and the real-life settings where cameras operate is immense, emphasizing the importance of on-site reporters sharing firsthand accounts – a practice traditionally employed during warfare, which has proven difficult to maintain in the ongoing modern conflict.

Working with self-filmed material, clips from Babenko, and body armor footage captured by the soldiers he meets during his inch-by-inch progression, Chernov immerses viewers in the chaos straight away. The initial 10 minutes before the title appears are similar to much of what’s to come – a harrowing first-person account of whizzing bullets, muffled explosions, frantic radio transmissions, and unavoidable casualties. This unfolds against a dismal backdrop of smoldering, barren trees and scorched earth, strewn with bodies. It appears, one can’t help but think, like a video game, one that initially lacks humanity and dehumanizes.

During breaks from the constant battles that marked their journey from one checkpoint to another, Chernov found opportunities for casual conversations among his fellow soldiers, a group of mostly young civilians who banded together for a common cause, despite their immediate struggles navigating through debris. In these personal talks, often held under cover of night or during moments of respite from gunfire, the soldiers would discuss cigarettes they held in their hands, their past careers, and dreams for a free Ukraine. Tragically, some of these young men did not survive the next day’s fighting, while others were left to hold strategic positions. In other cases, Chernov, serving as both an eyewitness and narrator, would later report that they had been killed five months later. The soldiers appeared hopeful, but Chernov understood the harsh reality; there were heroes in this documentary, yet it was not about heroism.

The movie presents a unique viewpoint that’s rooted in the gritty reality of its time yet maintains a thoughtful distance, much like Chernov switches between intense, distorted body armor footage and sweeping drone shots. The drone perspectives not only show the forest as both strikingly beautiful and brutally literal, but also symbolic. They serve two purposes in documentaries I admire: providing visual data for viewers while acting as artistic tools, and simultaneously depicting destruction as a tool of war. Drones indeed embody complexity.

Some viewers may yearn for a broader perspective, seeking a more comprehensive and interconnected understanding of where Andriivka and these soldiers stand in relation to the larger counteroffensive and overall conflict. However, this context can be found in the documentary “20 Days in Mariupol” and the reporting by Chernov and Babenko. This presentation provides a dynamic, personal view of individuals who are so engrossed in the chaos that they may not fully grasp or care about the purpose of the conflict. It’s harrowing, tragic, and, like a war that has spawned multiple Sundance-associated documentaries, it leaves a lasting impact.

Read More

2025-01-24 05:25