The plasticine country

The oldest, the biggest, and the most serious international animation festival in the post-Soviet countries, KROK, traditionally is held on boats and sails down Russian or Ukrainian waters. On even years the festival takes place in Russia and is dedicated to student films while on odd ones, in Ukraine, and professional directors compete for its prizes.

KROK-2011 set off on September, 24 in Kyiv. The best animation short-length films of the recent two years were shown in the small cinema hall of the ship. It is clear that quite a lot of decent films have been amassed during this period. Among them, a new film by the legendary Quay Brothers (Mask based on Stanislaw Lem’s story), Pixels by Patrick Jean, last year’s Annecy festival grand prix winner, a splendid Monster of Nix, made in the spirit of Tim Burton’s works by a cult director Rosto from the Netherlands, and the latest Estonian sensation, Sky Song by Mati Kutt.

As it usually happens, the prize list includes only a small part of interesting works, but nevertheless the judges (directiors Henri Heidsieck, Joana Tosti, Sviatoslav Ushakov, Juan Pablo Zaramella, and writer Andrii Kurkov) tried to make the list as long and diverse as possible.

The film Divers in the Rain by the great Estonian Priit Parn won the grand prix.

This 30-minute film portrays, with countless absurdist details, a love affair whose participants are too busy with their work to spend time together. The most important Oleksandr Tatarsky prize was awarded to After (from the project “Gem Mountain”) by Inga Korzhneva, a dynamic, light, and witty film with a florid adventure plot. Special prizes went to the attractive Tides Hither and Thither by Ivan Maksymov, the mysteriously beautiful Crossing by the Canadian Elise Simard, and Leo Verrier’s (France) debut Dripped, depicting an ardent art lover who is literally eating up favorite paintings.

A series of prizes and diplomas were presented in separate nominations. Among the shortest films Rubik’s Cube was recognized as the best one. In it young directors (Claire Baudean and others) created a world that looks like Rubik’s cube. Among 5-10 minute films the prize was awarded to the Australian Nullarbor by Alister Lockhart and Patrick Sarell, telling the story of two car drivers on a desert road. And in the category of the longest films the biggest hit of the previous animation season, The External World by David O’Reilly, a sharp satire on modern reality, won.

The audience naturally voted for Angry Man by Anita Killi (Norway) that showed a raving story about family abuse in an incredibly artistic, childlike, and charming way.

Besides, about 10 other movies received awards – about 20 works all in all. Sadly, there were no Ukrainian films among them. And if during the final ceremony there was a last name of Ukrainian director called out, this fact shouldn’t be exaggerated. Oh, Paris! by Oleksandr Shmyhun received recognition from the festival organizers’ committee, but not from the judges.

There is nothing you can do: Ukrainian animation is suffering through hard times nowadays. Remarkable school, beautiful traditions, names that are known worldwide – all of this is in the past for Ukraine. Today we have half-ruined studios, lack of mid-level professionals, very difficult situation with script writers, and an utterly poorly developed commercial sector. Enough to fall into despair, if it were not for talented and energetic animation youth, of whom there is plenty in Ukraine. It is them, students, recent graduates and self-taught people, who have not been letting Ukrainian animation die for years by creating their short films, which are sometimes incomplete in form but always full of artistic drive.

This year there were six of these films represented at KROK. And perhaps each one of them is an artistic feat. For example, White Crow by Anatolii Lavrenishyn could have not happened if not for one French woman who kindly helped to find French co-producers for the film. The production of the abovementioned Oh, Paris! took the whole five years due to a complicated financial situation (Oleksandr Shmyhun’s previous work, an attractive puppet film A Play for Three Actors, was finished in 2005). Another four short films, that are the episodes of the project “Ukraine Is My Country” are a saga in themselves.

The thing is that the idea of this project, partly under the influence of Russian almanacs “Gem Mountain” and “Multi-Russia,” was conceived a few years ago in a rather ambitious key. Under the guidance of Ukrainian plasticine film director Stepan Koval, recent animation graduates were going to create miniatures about Ukrainian cities, and in this way perfect their skills and acquire production experience.

But the economic crisis has struck this project hard, and today it is being made literally on bare enthusiasm, at prices many times lower than the humblest international standarts. Artists, directors, and animators create their films in tiny crews, don’t meet the deadlines, and make up for the lack of qualified script writers and other professionals on their own. The further destiny of the project is still not clear – there are no guarantees of broadcastings or certain perspectives of distribution. But it is not about the money. Now “Ukraine Is My Country” is a unique chance to for young directors to stay within their profession and create films with elements of authorial vision.

Luckily, nowadays, when the project can rightfully be called fact (10 episodes have been made and a couple more are in production), a close interest in it arises from festivals, television, and even state.

“My Country” is worth it. Despite all the hardships, the series come out interesting, attractive, and has its own distinct character. Plasticine was chosen as a material, and it is used in a very creative way in splash screens, like in “Gem Mountain.” Now plasticine dolls emerge on the screen, now paintings, drawn with plasticine, or the so-called plasticite shifting is used (when flat plasticine dolls are moved on the glass). The esthetics of the series is diverse as well – from bold ethnics to refined monochrome retro. Everything depends on the subject.

Each episode is dedicated to a certain Ukrainian city or town, about which the creators tell interesting facts, legends, or even jokes. Let’s say, in an episode which is dedicated to Sheshory, a legend of Oleksa Dovbush is told. This episode was made by the marvellous Kateryna Chepik, who is already well-known to festival audience thanks to her exquisite pixilations (a technique in which live actors are shot frame-by-frame). And Natalia Skriabina, who resently presented her amusing debut The Prince and the Mystery of an Enchanted Frog, made a story about the village of Lehedzyne based on a romantic legend about a broken charm-jar.

Though the project has not been awarded any prizes at KROK, the five episodes that were shown are full of optimism and confidence that this almanac has a great future ahead. For which, however, sponsorship and governmental support is not the last thing.

Approximately the same can be said about Ukrainian animation in general. Even those few works that appear at KROK are enough to realize that Ukrainian animation artists have a good potential. And now that state starts to get interested in domestic animation, when one contest for the financing of film projects has already been held and more are promised to follow, it is not hard to believe that Ukrainian artists will soon start making beautiful, vivid films that will have a claim not only on the benevolent KROK prizes, but also on awards of prestigious international festivals as well.