Myroslav SLABOSHPYTSKY: “I sincerely don’t understand why people who don’t make films live”

In emotional terms, Myroslav Slaboshpytsky became without doubt the number-one hero of Ukrainian cinema in the previous year.

A successful film director, who has won tens of prizes for his short motion pictures, a year ago he shot the best film in the time of Ukrainian independence, and, as it has become clear now, one of the best films in the entire history of Ukraine. After its triumph in Cannes, The Tribe has received an unthinkable number of prizes, with the last one being an award of the European Film Academy, an analogue to Oscar, in the Best Debut Category.

The Day has several times interviewed Slaboshpytsky, but those were usually commentaries on winning of some or other awards. Now it is time for a more thorough conversation.

Why is The Tribe so successful?

“I have read somewhere that in Cannes they try to find films that are rarely shot. Probably, I involuntarily created namely this kind of picture. An American reviewer gave a good remark about The Tribe: ‘This is a stunning film shot with the help of the universal language of anxiety.’”

Does success strongly change one’s life?

“When they say that I’ve become arrogant, I joke that I have always been of a high opinion of myself, and they have just noticed that. Life has changed, but not cardinally. Flights, festivals, interviews, and tours in support of the film – all of this is very exhausting. You must always be in good mood, be ready to answer one and the same question 200 times. Besides, some strange people write to me, and acquaintances I haven’t seen for 30 years, and people whom I don’t know, and they ask for money, and those are not volunteers, asking money for the army. They think if I often appear on TV, I must be very wealthy. Apart from that, I continue to communicate with a small number of friends, like I used to. Hopefully, I will have an opportunity to develop, because I can get spoiled and become intolerable.”

Are you satisfied with the screenings of The Tribe?

“Denys Ivanov [the producer of The Tribe. – Author] predicted that we would have 2,000 viewers in Kyiv, and 2,000 more – beyond it, like any art-house film. It turned out that 9,000 people have come to see the film. This is funny: we are competing with philharmonic societies, rather than with blockbusters. Therefore I am satisfied in this respect.”

But this is too little.

“No Ukrainian film, even ‘the most Ukrainian’ one, can be profitable. The question is about how many millions of negative profit it will bring. Fortunately, The Tribe has other good features, except for the financial ones. We have had only 37 copies, one evening screening because of being rated ages 18 and up. Under these circumstances the level of screening is quite acceptable, especially in addition to the screenings in 33 countries.”

Do you regret that you missed the Maidan events? For you spent the entire winter shooting?

“I had been waiting for the chance to shoot this film for 20 years. Of course, we cared and came to Maidan several times. Maidan is a high tragedy; it is the song of ice and fire, fantastic. Those wooden shields… For two months I caught myself crying without an obvious reason. The center of Khreshchatyk, a terrible place in terms of architecture, became fantastically beautiful when the barricades were built there; it became a well thought-out space. Of course, this is the most magnificent history. But Maidan is over. I have shot a critical film. I was thinking that everything would change, wondering what I am supposed to shoot films about. And after the session of our Oscar committee I understood: hell not. Everything is the same. It’s ridiculous that an adult like me was considering this change absolutely seriously.”

However, there have been changes, at least in terms of number. Last year over 20 films were released in Ukraine, most of them went on screen.

“Yes, 20 films were released, which was preceded by several years of support of the branch. The head of the State Cinema Committee wasn’t appointed for a long time, and we don’t know what the budget for the branch will be. There may be an empty space next year. Four years ago, when Kopylova came, rumor had it that some political decision was approved to fund Ukrainian cinematography. Why they made this decision is a mystery, but almost everyone who wanted to shoot received such an opportunity, in particular, myself, Volodymyr Tykhy, Oles Sanin. The Tribe and The Guide are the heritage of the previous regime. After all, we haven’t created a normal European system, and this decision has had an effect, because we didn’t have much to boast off, except for Muratova; but one director, no matter how talented s/he is, is not a national cinematography. It takes a while to shoot a film. We will see in two or three years what cinema we will have, I mean the new managers of the branch, and then we will speak about the bloom. One Ukrainian film should be released at least once in a month.”

What is needed for this?

“When I was a student, another student who went broke and wanted to find some money to freshen the nip, was selling the three-volume History of Cinema by George Sadoul, and I spent almost my whole monthly scholarship to buy it. I read it and understood that all three volumes were about the money. And when people of cinema meet, sooner or later they will start talking about the same. For a film costs a lot, and an ordinary person cannot find such money. I believe in theory of great numbers. You shouldn’t invent a bicycle. The more films we will have, the more chances we will stand to have a good film. This is always the same.”

Doesn’t it matter where you take the money?

“I can say that I have refused from a very good project in Russia. A decent sum of money was allotted for the project and the project itself didn’t contain anything mean. It was simply in Russia.”

Money is good. What about the ideas? When a wave, like in Romania, will rise in our country, for example?

“This is a complicated question. I have a feeling that the profession of film critic was born over the past three years. Previously some people watched retrospectives and wrote reviews about the films nobody ever saw. I think that a film critic in such a situation feels marginal the most. Finally, the screenings of Ukrainian films in movie theaters began, and critics started to write about them. A new pleiad appeared. A pleiad of different critics. Groups emerged who hate one another or vice versa. Life has begun. You are here, you are influential, people can read your review. The same refers to film director: for the first time in a long while I have felt that I am a useful member of society. Before that I had always felt like Lumpenproletariat. You’re nobody, even if your film was shown in Berlin. Now we, moviemakers, are useful members of society. This is a very important feeling for a normal country.”

Now we can afford a conflict of generations.

“I think this will again be a battle for money. People whose projects were not financed attack those who received funding. The main task is to get the possibility to shoot. In the time of notorious Hanna Chmil the strategy of some directors was in writing ‘signals’ for her to the highest instances, and as she was brought up on the traditions of party nomenklatura, she gave them some crumbs from the table. An attack of an object is one of the ways of leading negotiations. I am not inclined to condemn these people, because all of us want to shoot. In my opinion, another thing is meaningless – they chose the strategy of accusing the conditionally young directors of doing something wrong, from the point of view of provincial communism. Attacking state officials is one thing. I think that there is a presumption of guilt for a state official: any person in power is a villain unless he proves otherwise. However, attacking your colleagues is inappropriate, but after all they didn’t win anything by doing this. Therefore there is rather a conflict of beliefs, because many people, who are younger than me, talk absolute nonsense. However, if cinema won’t receive any funding, all these conflicts will cease, because we all will become Lumpenproletariat again.”

Okay, but was it worth raising the alarm because of the Oscar committee decision? They sent a weak film. But your name has already been engraved in the history of cinema owing to The Tribe, no matter whether you won the Oscar or not.

“There is an approach among intelligentsia ‘to be higher than something.’ I am categorically against this. We shouldn’t be higher. We should snarl, we should ask for trouble, answer back. Because I may shoot another film, or I may not. No matter what they say, the Oscar is an important award in the career of a moviemaker. A new Oscar committee will be formed soon, and I will do everything to prevent people who took part in the ‘Gryndzholy 2’ operation from getting there. We will create a normal committee and probably it won’t be so terribly unfair to the entire Ukrainian cinema – namely because we weren’t afraid from staining ourselves.”

What should a director in Ukraine be able to do?

“Everywhere, not only in our country, only one thing is needed: to be ready to pursue one’s goal. Simply be ready to be breaking through for a long time. No specifics.”

What about the details? You once told me about your method of work “acting instinctively.” What does it mean?

“I hate when people ask me to explain something about the script. If you can express this, the audience can do the same – the scene begins, and they already know everything that happens there, and you are losing the audience. Moving instinctively, you look for something that will be cool, that touches you. You don’t understand why, but it is the right thing to do. At The Tribe we were shooting one scene. It seemed to be normal, and I was ordering one take after another, we started to redo things, the group was losing money, the actors got tired, and I was persisting, because I disliked something. Then I changed one thing – and everything became cool. At the same time I cannot understand it rationally. However, if someone stops me and asks about it, I will strain myself, but explain everything. But I think it is better not to know this.”

Do you calculate everything, or improvisations happen?

“There is always a plan. Everything that is going on in the film was found at the rehearsals empirically. The Tribe was verified to a millimeter. There is less freedom than in North Korea. The movement of Steadycam [transportable system for stabilization of cinema camera or shooting video in movement. – Author] is a very complicated construction: one person is leading the Steadycam, which at some point of time should move to the second and to the third one, everything is verified very precisely. And in terms of emotions, we worked a lot with the actors. It was as sheer pleasure to shoot: we came, the scene was always well-rehearsed, we started to shoot, the first takes of the actors were better, but the Steadycam didn’t zero in, when the Steadycam zeroed in, the actors were already tired. We worked with the actors – the Steadycam was tired already. Finally, we shot the last good take, after which everyone left, swearing at me and Valentyn [Valentyn Vasianovych, the cameraman of The Tribe. – Author], but the take was perfect.”

Don’t you let the actors improvise?

“No. And they are not eager to do this. Svitlana Shtanko played in my Nuclear Waste. She changed her dress, entered the scene, and I saw that my character appeared, what can you say? No improvisation.”

What can your actors do?

“This is not a rational question either. For example, we held a casting for The Tribe. We were sitting in the room of the culture center of Ukrainian Association of Hearing Impaired. People in the hall were standing in a line. A person enters, I feel its presence in the room, I feel that s/he entered. It doesn’t depend either on the build, the prettiness, there is this feeling, or there isn’t. But you mostly don’t feel this presence, although the actors diligently fulfill the task. I saw Yana Novikova [the leading actress. – Author] at a casting at a deaf theater Veselka, but they didn’t take her, and I thought, ‘She’s great,’ but we continued to look through, I thought I needed a more ‘fleshy’ actress, but after all I didn’t find anyone better.”

So, you have sheer instincts.

“This is a human quality. Charisma or something. You either have it or don’t.”

To what extent can you manipulate an actor?

“Morally you should be ready to perform everything the actor is doing in the scene. Unfortunately, I need a perfect take. This is my problem. But if we don’t get it, why do we need the years spent for preparation for the shooting, why do we need to get up early, freeze, or suffer heat? Why do we need all this if we don’t get a perfect take after all? There is no sense about it.”

So, you are fierce with actors?

“I can be fierce on the shooting ground. Valentyn was surprised at my behavior. Speaking about the type, I am stout and kind. But sometimes I need to fire up the crew, to fire up myself, therefore sometimes I yell. You should probably ask the people I work with about this.”

Is it important to be able to show character for a director?

“Directing is about character by 98 percent. One way or another, you must make 60-70 people act according to your will. This is a professional demand. Salary is not a motivation. People must do what you want them to do, because only you know what film you want to make. One way or another, you must make these people do what you need. Directing is a nurse school of dictators to some extent. And repressions give way to a result.”

There is an unusually high number of violent scenes in your films, as for Ukrainian cinema. Why?

“Maybe, because this is one of the very bright manifestations of human emotions, if violence is not carnivalized, like in mass culture. The entire world of The Tribe is based on it. But I don’t wake up in the morning with a thought that I need to invent a violent scene. If something is needed, it emerges. Incidentally, The Tribe has had problems with ranking in France and the US. In France the distributor wrote a letter to the minister of culture: he was protesting against the 16+ rating. He explained to me where this restriction came from: ‘You see, sex in your film is okay, but for violence we received 18+. In America the distributor said, ‘Violence is okay, but sex!’ (Chuckling.)”

What can you say about your new project “Luxemburg”?

“It was partially inspired by Nuclear Waste. The film is about the Chornobyl Zone and life there. I have downloaded a huge number of photos and issue-related videos. I know the Zone. At the moment I note the objects, background and the places where it is real to shoot. The first scene in Waste was shot where it is forbidden to shoot, the so-called ‘red woods’ where cars pass without stopping. At the moment everyone wants a new film from the director of The Tribe. It has also received support of the Hubert Bals Fund. Ideally this should be a German-Ukrainian project. Hopefully, everything will be okay.”

You must understand that people won’t forgive you a failure.

“Yes. But the choice is not wide: you will remain a one-film author, if you don’t shoot any good films anymore or if you shoot no films at all. There is nothing to lose. But I don’t think I will disgrace myself completely. However, it is better not to think about it. The shooting ground is a therapy in this sense, because there are so many idiotic troubles that you don’t have time to assess what you do. You are doing everything mechanically, you are not satisfied with everything. You shoot, you fall down, you fall asleep. You can reflect on this later.”

One more irrational question in the end: what is cinema?

“At the age of eight, when I went for the first time to the cinema, Soviet cinema at the time, there was one kind of cinema. Later, when I started to shoot on film, there was a different cinema, and then digital cinema emerged. Therefore it is hard to define. But for me it is the coolest thing in the world. I sincerely don’t understand why people who don’t make films live. I understand objectively, but it surprises me. Don’t you really want to make cinema? Is it possible? I don’t ask this aloud, but there is an inner thought: how can you live and not be making films? Why do you live then?”