It is surprising no user review has yet been written about "Voices from Chernobyl" ("La Supplication") because it is an outstanding mix of documentary and art about one of the biggest man-made disasters in history. Also, it is based on a relatively famous book: "Voices from Chernobyl: The Oral History of a Nuclear Disaster" by Nobel Prize laureate Svetlana Alexievich published in 1997. The latter spent ten years interviewing more than 500 eyewitnesses mostly in Belarus where the author lived, since the South of Belarus was most affected by the accident which occurred just across the border in Ukraine, because of Northbound winds (reminder: both Republics were part of USSR back in 1986). For information the famous series Chernobyl (2019) includes numerous events related in the book, notably entire scenes in hospitals, the elimination of domesticated animals, the life of soldiers and miners, etc.
The movie opens on the same lines as in the book: "I don't know what to talk about: death or love? Or is it the same? (...)" And ends the same way: "(...) We'll wait for him together. I'll whisper my Chernobyl supplication and he'll look at the world with the eyes of a child." The rest of the film only selects parts of the book naturally, else it would run for hours, and, more remarkably, changes the order of testimonies because the internal logics of the feature and the book differ. Actually a whole essay could be written about these logics, their similarities and differences as well as the way testimonies fit in the right place for each work.
HOW TO FILM DISASTER?
This is the eternal trick question for cinema which applies to all types of tragedies (war, genocide, etc.). Showing too much would be voyeuristic and unbearable: there is a distance in written fiction or essay that is difficult to reproduce on screen. Showing too little would distort the original message and lack respect for the victims. "La Supplication" opts for another path: it transposes tragedy, not too close nor too far but to the side. It does not really depict the disaster: it is an evocation by permanently introducing a distance.
DOUBLE-SIDEDNESS
That distance embodies a dichotomy throughout the movie: there is an apparently normal setting and a concealed terrible reality. Indeed the film is double-edged as the book which exposes a bright and a dark side (e.g. The opening lines: "death or love (...) is it the same?"). On the one hand, form is straightforward; on the other, intense emotions gradually surface, akin to poetry using simple words.
Hence strictly speaking "La Supplication" is more docu-poetry than docu-fiction, illustrating the disaster in indirect and evocative ways: a rare genre and a remarkable if relatively unknown opus.
The movie opens on the same lines as in the book: "I don't know what to talk about: death or love? Or is it the same? (...)" And ends the same way: "(...) We'll wait for him together. I'll whisper my Chernobyl supplication and he'll look at the world with the eyes of a child." The rest of the film only selects parts of the book naturally, else it would run for hours, and, more remarkably, changes the order of testimonies because the internal logics of the feature and the book differ. Actually a whole essay could be written about these logics, their similarities and differences as well as the way testimonies fit in the right place for each work.
HOW TO FILM DISASTER?
This is the eternal trick question for cinema which applies to all types of tragedies (war, genocide, etc.). Showing too much would be voyeuristic and unbearable: there is a distance in written fiction or essay that is difficult to reproduce on screen. Showing too little would distort the original message and lack respect for the victims. "La Supplication" opts for another path: it transposes tragedy, not too close nor too far but to the side. It does not really depict the disaster: it is an evocation by permanently introducing a distance.
- Witnesses are played by actors. The movie could have filmed people who testified for the book (out of 500, a few should have been available) or at least who lived in the area at the time, and/or shown archive footage and pictures.-
- Actors do no talk: there is a constant voiceover. There is frequently no one on screen while narration proceeds: we then wonder who is talking. To emphasise this point, the movie opens and closes on "empty" shots.-
- Actors are from former USSR while dialogs are in French, spoken by distinct persons, the only exception being Dinara Drukarova who both acts and talks, also off screen. The dialogs could have been spoken by the actors, even in voiceover: the latter could have been French or Luxemburgish, the director's nationality, or conversely, the language could have been Belarusian or Russian.-
- Images sometimes emphasise dialogs, sometimes not: as spectators we are constantly looking for correspondences.-
- Characters are almost always alone even in places where they normally wouldn't be (large office, street, buildings): we then question the reality of images.-
- Most testimonies are critical about the way the aftermath was handled by authorities, whilst in the book some are more neutral or even, albeit rarely, try to justify what happened: distance with the events is enhanced.
DOUBLE-SIDEDNESS
That distance embodies a dichotomy throughout the movie: there is an apparently normal setting and a concealed terrible reality. Indeed the film is double-edged as the book which exposes a bright and a dark side (e.g. The opening lines: "death or love (...) is it the same?"). On the one hand, form is straightforward; on the other, intense emotions gradually surface, akin to poetry using simple words.
- Persons are silent and generally motionless even when there are stimuli (rain falling, birds flying close), because they are at the same time living and dead: impacted by radiations and ignored by authorities who were more concerned about saving face than helping the population. Or are they the ghosts of Chernobyl, coming back to where they last lived?-
- This ambiguity about the living is emphasised by the fact we sometimes see characters reflected in mirrors, as well as other reflections (on tables, in windows, etc.) and symmetrical shots (two doors, two windows, etc.).-
- The above-mentioned empty shots, balanced by the continuing voiceovers, evoke the deceased including witnesses who died of long-term disease: only their testimonies remain. Their spirit fill the screen.-
- There is an overall quietness and stillness as if time were suspended: no music, soft off-screen voices, low noises, still images, few camera movements, limited action, shots on stopped clocks. This contrasts with the shock of the incident at the time (explosion, fire, activity around the plant, evacuations): it illustrates the fact imperceptible radiations will affect humans, fauna and flora for ages.-
- Images are beautiful, a surprising choice for a catastrophe of that magnitude: sunny weather, blossoming trees, colourful interiors, wandering animals, the nuclear plant lit at night, etc. Even the rundown rooms and constructions look artistic. We don't see any of the dreadful testimonies narrated, notably the impact of radioactivity on liquidators and newborns. Despite the tragedy, life goes on with the invisible peril.-
- Situations look normal but are frequently incongruous, exposing the absurdity of the catastrophe and its handling by the regime: a man steals his own door on a motorbike; a woman sits like a statue on a chair inside a building while birds fly past her; it rains inside; a merry-go-round turns for no reason, one way then the other; doors open on their own; the light is sometimes exceedingly bright. However all this could be explainable: the man has no choice if he wants to keep the door; the woman could be in shock; there might be leaks in the ceiling letting the rain drip inside; the wind might propel the merry-go-round; it might also push the doors; the sun might be very bright. Or are these phenomena caused by the spirits we mentioned? In any case absurdity has now become normality.-
- The movie is classified as documentary since it relies on authentic testimonies, yet is at the same time a piece of art: elaborate shots, correlation (or not) between image and text, articulation of testimonies, underlying emotions. As such, it is comparable to the book which is altogether essay and literature. Director Pol Cruchten said he was inspired by Andrei Tarkovsky who included fantasy in seemingly plain environments.
Hence strictly speaking "La Supplication" is more docu-poetry than docu-fiction, illustrating the disaster in indirect and evocative ways: a rare genre and a remarkable if relatively unknown opus.
