Skip to content
Call Us Today! 212-533-4646 | MON-FRI 12PM - 4PM (EST)
DONATE
SUBSCRIBE
Search for:
About Us
Publications
FAQ
Annual Report 2023
Annual Report 2022
Annual Report 2021
Initiatives
Advocate
Educate
Cultivate
Care
News
Newsletters
Sign Up For Our Newsletter
Join UNWLA
Become a Member
Volunteer With Us
Donate to UNWLA
Members Portal
Calendar
Shop to Support Ukraine
Search for:
Print
Print Page
Download
Download Page
Download Right Page
Open
1
2-3
4-5
6-7
8-9
10-11
12-13
14-15
16-17
18-19
20-21
22-23
24-25
26-27
28-29
30-31
32-33
34-35
36-37
38-39
40
“НАШЕ ЖИТТЯ”, КВІТЕНЬ 2015 WWW.UNWLA.ORG 17 source. Some U.S. scientists worried that the de- structive radio waves not only disrupted electron- ic signals, but also threatened human brainwaves. The extremely costly project under the di- rection of the then—now deceased—Minister of Communications, a Communist Party bureaucrat named Shamshin, was a considerable political liability. He had to do something to hide the fail- ure. Although the Russians denied any complicity, Ukrainian authorities eventually traced two sus- picious phone calls to the Chornobyl facility from the ministry official: one to the day shift manager, who recognized the potential for disaster and re- fused the request made; a second to the night shift where obedience prevailed, and the rest is history─a nightmare. Through a series of interviews with vari- ous engineers and scientists involved during and after the disaster, Fedor uncovers the conspiracy and exposes the Soviet Union’s callousness, echo- ing Russia’s current brazen invasion of Ukraine, seen by many as the first step in the return of the old Soviet regime. “Life goes on,” Putin arrogantly said as he brushed off Associated Press reporters’ questions following a recent takeover of yet an- other eastern Ukrainian border city. The film shows that Fedor’s assertions are accurate enough to engender threats to his own and his family’s safety. A visit to his modest home by Russian authorities—secretly filmed by a hidden camera—makes clear their intentions and suggests that the safety of his young son is in question. At a post-screening question-and-answer session, Gracia, Fedor, and cinematographer Ar- tem Ryzhykov received a prolonged standing ova- tion. “I’m afraid for these guys to go back,” Gracia said. There is danger in notoriety, he worried. “We were blown away that we got accepted [into Sundance]. I thought there might be a few little notices somewhere, but it’s been in the news quite a bit, and it’s reached Russia,” he said. “There’s a long arm if you offend people in Russia.” The filmmakers reiterated the film’s message: there are terrorists in power in Russia who might de- stroy all of us. “Equally as dangerous as nuclear weapons is the culture of lies and corruption that Russia is spreading throughout the world,” Fedor said. “Americans have not fully realized the depth of the madness of the Russian leadership,” he added. “If you believe Putin, he’s fighting a war against Americans in the Ukraine... that the entire revolution is a CIA-funded American invasion. He believes this. And the Russian people believe this.” Gracia said that the culture of distrust among Ukrainians runs so deep that both Fedor and Artem feared that Gracia, whose history of one-time working for the CIA was exposed, was still a CIA agent. “We were all kind of suspicious of each other for a few weeks, and didn’t know who was telling the truth,” he said. Until he saw the finished film at Sundance, Fedor did not know that he was sometimes being filmed by a secret camera, especially when he at one point tried to end the production in fear for his family’s safety. Fedor and Artem could be drafted into the Ukrainian army at any moment. The war contin- ues. The killing of Ukrainians goes on... un- checked. Chornobyl was no accident. The Face of Ukraine received the Short Film Jury Award for non-fiction. Presented at Sundance by YouTube—so viewing should be easily available—the seven-minute masterpiece from Australian filmmaker Kitty Green is in Rus- sian and Ukrainian with English subtitles. (Thank goodness some of these children have learned their own language.) Adorned in pink sequined costumes typical for female ice skaters and wear- ing stage makeup, little girls from across a divid- ed, war-torn Ukraine audition to play the role of Olympic champion figure skater Oksana Baiul. Baiul’s televised tears of joy at winning had once united the troubled country. This time, it is the tears of the older girls (ages seem to range from five or six to preteens) that flow in response to two questions: What do you dream of? When is the last time you cried? The smiling littler girls dream of white beds and white curtains and white teddy bears. The older girls dream of being able to go home, their homes in cities no longer safe since the arri- val of Russian weapons. The youngest girls, who at the audition’s end are handed floral bouquets and the desired stuffed toys, cannot remember when they last cried and seem not to understand the question. The older girls stare blankly at the camera, fumble their responses, and collapse in tears as they recall being told that a family mem- ber would not be coming home, that they would likely not have a familiar school to return to, that their imagined lives have been forever altered. The last and oldest girl drops the presented bou- quet and weeps uncontrollably. As did I, alone in the Sundance Press Headquarters screening booth available for viewing short films. Seven minutes... Blond, blue-eyed, beautiful, yet anguished, chil- dren hope to escape into a remembered time of triumph in their Kyiv arts and dance school. The Tribe is a feature-length narrative sponsored jointly by the Ukrainian Film Ministry
Page load link
Go to Top