Dream caused by a radio wave a second before awakening

There is a persuasive manifestation of our “documentary renaissance” – the release and critical success of The Russian Woodpecker film (the United States, Britain, Ukraine). It’s the debut work of Chad Gracia, American playwright and theater producer. In January past year, the movie got into the contest list of the most influential American Festival “Sundance,” and won the Grand Prix in the “foreign documentary” category. From then on, it has won several more prizes, and finally its rental in Ukraine begins.

The “Russian Woodpecker” was a knocking signal at low frequencies, similar to that of a woodpecker, which made a mess in the global radiospace in the late 1970s. Western scholars have located its source to be in Kyiv oblast. As it turned out, the transmitter was the Duga [the Arc] radar antenna, used by the Soviet military to warn about launches of American ballistic missiles. It is situated near the Chornobyl Nuclear Power Plant and resembles giant metal scaffolding. The main character of the film is Fedir Aleksandrovych, artist from Kyiv, the son of Andrii Aleksandrovych-Dachevsky, set designer, and Olena Yahodovska, art critic. Fedir is obsessed with the idea that the Chornobyl disaster was caused by the situation around the Duga.

A character with such a demonstrative, eccentric character is a real success for the documentary filmmaker. Fedir actually plays like an actor in the role of himself. Gracia allows him a complete freedom of self-expression: he lets Fedir walk through the Alienation Zone with a torch in hand wearing only sheets of cellophane over naked body; he captures the character’s extensive sophistications; he gives the man an opportunity to play around as a detective; he traces how Fedir climbs the super-radar; he follows the artist to the scene of Maidan.

Actually, Gracia introduces two meaningful angles: the Soviet past as a curse, as “ghosts” that the hero mentions in the beginning; and the deceptively cozy today, in which the creators of Duga and other evil secret-keepers still live. These two seemingly distant paradigms are connected precisely through Fedir’s peculiarity. Fedir’s fantastic ideas, which he shapes into artistic, theatrical form together with the director, is not perceived as a conspiracy theory, but as the image of the horror that does not let Ukraine go. The same with the candid footage of retired military – it is not only a provocation, but another touch to the overall bizarre atmosphere.

THE POSTER OF THE RUSSIAN WOODPECKER: A GASMASKED BIRD ON THE DUGA RADAR / Photo from the website zff.com

A turning point comes in a conversation between Aleksandrovych and Artem Ryzhykov, the cameraman, again filmed on hidden camera. Fedir tells about the visit of an SBU officer, and the real terror is heard in his voice. He abandons the project, worried for his family – and no less sincere indignation is heard in the voice of Artem, who accuses Fedir of treason, of becoming a communist ghost himself. The weirdness finds its way into the reality as the hero becomes the anti-hero, and the shell of phantasmagoria breaks to reveal a tragedy. The personal breakdown of one person highlights a nationwide drama: yes, the Soviet curse continues to this day – and that is why the uprising starts, the very real blood is shed, Artem gets his injury by Berkut’s bullet, and Putin’s troops are crossing the border. The sinister “Russian Woodpecker” is pecking the frequencies once again.

Through irony and eccentricity, through one-man show and tales of conspiracy Chad Gracia managed to achieve the most important thing in this film: the genuine, sincere artistic compassion to Ukraine and people living in it.

Our historical hallucination is coming to an end. The most important thing is not to fall into the same dream. Never, never should we let ourselves be put again to sleep.

Chad Gracia, director of The Russian Woodpecker, answered to The Day’s questions after the Kyiv premiere.

What idea of Ukraine did you have when you first travelled here?

“Well, the truth is that I thought of Ukraine as the most peaceful place on Earth. And my mother, whenever I travel, always asks me: ‘where are you going, is it dangerous?’ And I said ‘Mom, it is Ukraine, it has not a single death post-Soviet collapse. It is the safest place on Earth, it’s quiet, it’s peaceful. Don’t worry.’ That was my impression of Ukraine. And so when Fedir started talking about return of the Soviet Union, and the Russian invasion a year before it actually happened, I thought he was crazy.”

And when you arrived in Ukraine – how strongly did everything change?

“Ukraine went through the enormous upheaval and I was here through that whole situation… It looks like a peaceful island, but it is actually volcanic! And the volcano erupted during our film.”

How did Fedir influence your perception of Ukraine and the history of our country?

“I think there are two things that Fedir was trying to convince me and the audience of. Number one is the idea that the Soviet Union is not dead, that the battles are still being fought. In that sense he convinced me one hundred percent. Because I started by thinking that the Soviet Union died 25 years ago and it would never come back. But he himself is like a giant radar, he sensed this return of this war, he sensed it when no one else did. I think that Maidan was the proof that he was correct, that these ghosts are still alive. Now, Fedir’s mind, the Chornobyl catastrophe was also caused by ghosts of the Soviet Union, personified in one man. And on that count I remain on the edge. So, I hope that the film is a psychological study of Fedir, and that the audience sort of feels they get pulled into the madness of a conspiracy theory, where it’s impossible to know the truth  – because there’s a fog of lies, and a fog trauma, and radiation, and violence.”

Probably it was a great luck for you, as a film director, when this so-called “big luck” of the revolution happened, and life connected these matters in one big story.

“Fedir is such a perfect symbol for the struggle inside Ukraine, in my eyes. But I should also say that it wasn’t easy to find that story. The editing was extremely difficult for me, and it’s only at the last moment that I was able to find a way to bring all of these stories together: the story of Ukraine’s history, the story of the Chornobyl catastrophe, the story of the Duga radar, the story of Fedir’s family, and Fedir’s dream story, which we see little hints of throughout. You know, Fedir wanted to make a whole film of his dreams. Fedir said, the only way we can confront and fight these ghosts is through dreams. He thought that my idea to interview scientists was a waste of time. So, we had a deal: I would film his dreams and he would film the interviews with scientists. So, we had a parallel investigation. This is my first film, and it was planned to be five minutes long. But, it has just became more and more crazy, and more intense and strange.”

Tell me a few words about your previous artistic experience you had before this film.

“I worked in a theater in New York for a long time as a producer, and as a dramaturge. That helped me enormously when I was working on the project, and especially when we were editing. Because the dramaturgical challenge was the biggest – trying to find a story that would be clear, and clear to an international audience also, because when I showed early versions no one knew about Ukraine. No one knew the history of the Holodomor, they didn’t understand why Maidan happened. So, my background is theater, I only know how to do theater. And Fedir is also a man of the theater. So, our film is theatrical.”

At what moment did Fedir become a hero of your film? When did you decide he would be a main character?

“Honestly, the first moment I met Fedir, I knew that he would be a charismatic, and eccentric, and interesting hero. I’m interested in madmen – because I think they can teach us something about a deeper truth. There’s something at the heart of what he’s saying about these Soviet ghosts. He didn’t know we filmed him with a secret camera, he didn’t know that we presented him not as a hero. We presented him as an anti-hero and a hero, he is dark and light. So, he had no idea and I was nervous – maybe he would hate the film, maybe he would be insulted.”

And how did it turn out?

“He lied to us, he tried to destroy our footage, he tried to totally, completely destroy our project. And only later I got to know that it was so because he was afraid for the life of his son, because they had threatened him. But, you know, Fedir is an artist, and he understood that it was the real story, and therefore it was the right story to tell. And of course, he loves the spotlight! He said, ‘it’s better for me, because now I’m the hero, and I’m the anti-hero, so I have double the stage time.’”

For him as a theater man, it’s a lot of luck, a lot of success, to be above this black-white light.

“I do feel that we captured something really true about Fedir – and I think it’s important to see him as a four-year child, who was irradiated by Chornobyl, as all of Ukraine was. And that journey of this one man, one soul, is what I wanted to show. More importantly than the radar, Chornobyl, the history – it’s really the story of one man’s struggle to understand, to make sense of this catastrophe, and find someone to blame.”

But did you have that one moment when you thought – okay, it’s all conspiracy, Fedir is a very special man, but something of what he says is true? Did you have such thoughts?

“I’m very skeptical. In the beginning I thought that this guy was crazy. Of course it’s impossible! But then we interviewed the head of the Chornobyl Investigatory Committee of the Soviet Union. And we interviewed the head of the Ukrainian Investigatory Committee. And many other historians. And they all said to me: ‘Chad, there is something hidden in the archives, that is connected to the phone call on that Friday night.’ So, I started very skeptical, but then by the end I realized that maybe there is something here, maybe Fedir has got the details wrong, he sniffed something, there’s something wrong. In the same way I was skeptical when he said that the Russians were coming, there’s going to be war. I said ‘what are you talking about, I don’t see this!’ But he proved me wrong. So, I’m very cautious about dismissing Fedir’s warnings.

“You know, a lot of people said to us: ‘Fedir’s theory is crazy! Everyone knows that that didn’t happen, it’s impossible. The CIA blew up Chornobyl!’ So, everyone has different conspiracy theories, and for me it’s interesting what happens to a society when people lose faith in truth, when the society is traumatized, and lies are everywhere. In that environment conspiracy theories grow, and I wanted to show a little bit of that also.”

Will you continue your cinematographer’s career?

“Yes, I hope so. For me it’s an exciting time to make documentaries, especially in this part of the world.”

Do you have some ideas?

“Actually, I am working on a story about mammoths. In Siberia they found a mammoth and they clone him to bring it back.”

Another little bit of conspiracy!

“Yes.”

How did all this adventure, this project in Ukraine, change you?

“Well, that’s the first time anyone asked me this question, it’s very interesting. The biggest way that it changed me is that it gave me a new vocation. Also, I became much closer to Ukraine. Now I feel that I have a stake. I feel I have become a part of this country, and I want to see it succeed.”