A year after controversial TIFF premiere, the Russians deserve to see at war

Russians at War: A Raw and Observational Look at the Reality of War
Directed by Anastasia Trofimova
Written by Roland Schlimme
Classification: N/A; 129 minutes
Available for digital rental on Russiansatwar.com from 15 August
Critic’s Pick
“Who needs this war?”
It is a question that should be asked – perhaps even demanded – every day, every minute in this current and cursed era. And yet, it is also a question that was largely unheard of until the end of the poignant and essential new Canadian documentary, Russians at War.
Just a few days before the Russian-Canadian director Anastasia Trofimova was set to make its North American premiere at the Toronto International Film Festival last fall, the production was denounced as Pro-Kremlin propaganda. The accusations were loud and passionate, even though the most prominent critics of the film, including the then Deputy Prime Minister Chrystia Freeland, had not actually watched the film. If they had, they would have witnessed an older Russian mother asking the aforementioned “who needs this war?” question while burying her son. The young man’s body had returned after a short stint on the front lines of an unjust invasion, a perspective that Trofimova captures with as much confusion and despair as seen by the everyday Russians and the rest of the world.
For a film that is accused of being sympathetic to the crimes of Vladimir Putin’s money laundering aggression, Russians at War is far from Moscow-friendly propaganda. It is a fly-on-the-wall account of the fears and horrors faced by Russian soldiers sent to the front lines of a war they do not understand or believe in. The film carries a simple message: war is hell, and the casualties are many.
The documentary opens in 2022 with Trofimova’s chance encounter in Moscow with a Ukrainian man named Ilya, who fervently fights on the Russian side. Curious about how someone can hold such conflicting geopolitical attitudes and recognizing a compelling story, Trofimova accepts Ilya’s invitation to film him and his battalion on the front lines, a dangerous privilege granted to few. What follows is a poignant journey through the side of the war that Putin would rather keep hidden.
The troops are at best dissatisfied and at worst furious as they are torn from their families to risk their lives. Some are clearly influenced by Moscow’s disinformation machine, convinced they are fighting against Nazis. But many are there because they have no other socio-economic choice. As they fall one by one in battle, captured by Trofimova’s camera without a crew or much personal protection, it becomes evident that there is no glory, only pain.
Comparable to Lewis Milestone’s 1930 adaptation of All Quiet on the Western Front, Trofimova has crafted a bold anti-war film that will likely keep her from setting foot in her homeland as long as Putin remains in power. Is it radical to suggest that not every Russian of fighting age is a monster, but rather someone trapped in the machinations of their state?
The film is not without its criticisms. Some may argue that Trofimova’s disinterest in capturing Ukrainian perspectives in the film, those whose land and lives have been destroyed by Putin’s power plays, is a significant oversight. However, documentary cinema is not bound by the rules of impartial news reporting where all parties are given equal weight.
Like Tim Hetherington and Sebastian Junger’s acclaimed 2010 documentary Restrepo following American soldiers in Afghanistan, or Deborah Scranton’s groundbreaking 2006 film The War Tapes composed largely of footage shot by National Guard soldiers deployed in Iraq, Trofimova’s film is a raw piece of observational cinema that immerses the audience in a specific and narrow reality.
While some may question why Trofimova does not challenge the more outlandish claims of the Russian soldiers, such as denying the possibility of war crimes on their side, the nature of the film she has created – a story free of editorial influence and dependent on the safety of her subjects – dictates that she simply captures reality as it unfolds. Should the director be criticized for following a story, or commended for stepping away when the complexities become too difficult to process in black and white terms?
These are questions that detractors of the film may ponder if they choose to engage in constructive dialogue rather than protest. Last fall, the Toronto International Film Festival was forced to postpone screenings of the film due to security concerns, ultimately presenting it two days after the festival officially concluded.
Almost a year later – a period during which the film was pulled from several other film festivals and lost support from a partial financier, TVO – Russians at War is now directly available to the public via a dedicated website set up by the producers. Trofimova has made her contribution, and now it is up to the rest of the world to decide.