Co-Directors Spanning 6,000 Miles Make Doc ‘Porcelain War’ Amidst Real War

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Right from the get-go, Slava Leontyev and I, serving as joint directors for the documentary film titled “Porcelain War“, became aware that there were issues at hand. To be precise, more than one, and they were significant.

Initially, we find ourselves in these roles: Slava, previously a skilled porcelain artist, now serves as a Special Forces member in Ukraine; meanwhile, I, a VFX supervisor in the United States, hold my position. Notably, neither of us have ever ventured into directing a documentary prior to this.

For several years, we exchanged emails discussing potential collaboration on an animated movie, but at that point, we hadn’t officially teamed up. However, when Russia invaded Ukraine, our thoughts shifted towards creating another kind of project.

Despite being separated by vast distances, language differences, and one of Europe’s most significant conflicts since World War II, we had never met in person, and it seemed unlikely that we ever would. Our initial video call was filled with the sounds of nearby shelling from the conflict and a translator working tirelessly to bridge our communication gap as we attempted to create a film amidst warzone chaos. In our very first virtual meeting, Slava expressed his thoughts: “War is always ugly; it all resembles each other. The destruction, the smoke, the casualties. We’ve seen these scenes in numerous films before. What we should emphasize instead is the beauty of our country – everything that we are striving to protect.

It proved difficult to find a dependable method for transporting cameras from the U.S. to Ukraine. Fortunately, we stumbled upon a network of paramilitary volunteers willing to help. This network managed to get essential equipment, including ours, into Slava’s possession. A makeup artist from New Jersey took the initiative, arranging for 50 bags filled with critical medical and military supplies to be transported from her small apartment in the U.S., through Poland, and across the border into Ukraine. She cleverly included our equipment within these bags, and it eventually reached Slava’s apartment in Kharkiv, which is approximately 20 miles away from the front line.

How might we present Ukraine’s ongoing conflict from the viewpoint of civilian residents? We aimed to convey an intimate, individualized account. However, the challenge lies in instructing someone on how to operate intricate equipment from afar.

How can we share the civilian experience of war in Ukraine? We wanted a personal and human story. But, it’s tough to teach someone to use advanced technology when they’re not physically there.

Back in Los Angeles, I found myself with the same high-quality camera, lens, and microphone setup as Slava in Ukraine. On a whim, we turned our shared space into an impromptu film school. Andrey Stefanov, an oil painter unfamiliar with professional cameras, was our cinematographer.

As an artist myself, I could relate to the concepts of composition, lighting, and color that he brought to the table. The camera, while new, simply became another tool in our artistic arsenal as we honed our skills together.

Additionally, we started exchanging artwork such as drawings, sketches, photos, and paintings for mutual interaction. It turned out that we had a common appreciation for numerous movies, books, and musicians. We opened up to one another, revealing all our interests, and found an immediate connection.

In an ideal scenario for a film, you first shoot, followed by editing, and then postproduction; however, given the urgency of the situation in Ukraine, impacting millions of innocent people and affecting countries globally, we opted to combine shooting and editing processes to share this story promptly.

Daily, Slava and I collaborated as co-directors via Zoom. Our team was distributed across four continents and numerous time zones, with tasks such as translations, editing, and postproduction happening round the clock in places like Australia. Meanwhile, a group of artists in Poland labored diligently on three animated sequences, totaling 7,000 hand-drawn frames, to animate the artwork created by Slava and his spouse, Anya, portraying their peaceful past, challenging present, and optimistic future. Simultaneously, our team in Ukraine captured over 500 hours of footage on 15 cameras.

After 21 months of grinding away at remote work, I couldn’t believe it when I heard that our game, “Porcelain War,” had been selected for the Sundance Film Festival! The excitement was through the roof as we realized this story would now be seen by audiences worldwide. But what made this news even sweeter was the fact that Slava, Anya, Frodo the dog, Andrey, and his family were granted special visas to attend the festival in person. Finally, we’d get a chance to celebrate our success together, face-to-face!

Upon disembarking from the plane in Salt Lake City the eve of the Sundance premiere, we met face-to-face for the initial time, exchanging warm embraces and tears.

Together, without ever meeting, we created an entire movie. The following day, spectators in Park City watched Slava, Anya, and Andrey’s lives unfold on the large screen, and they honored the film with an eight-minute standing ovation, a heartfelt display of warmth, love, and appreciation not just for Ukraine, but also for the art that these Ukrainian artists had shared worldwide. A short while later, we were privileged to be awarded the festival’s U.S. Documentary Grand Jury Prize. In March, we will gather once more in the heart of Hollywood as nominees for the best documentary feature at the Oscars. It’s all quite unbelievable, to put it mildly.

Originally published in a special edition of The Hollywood Reporter magazine for February, you can get the magazine by clicking here to subscribe.

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2025-02-07 19:55