20 Days in Mariupol
Demonstrates how quickly a city can fall into chaos and destruction when it becomes a target in a war. Chernov is clearly a journalist willing to accept the risks involved in reporting from a war zone, but his breathy, monotonal and melancholy voiceover seems a bit calculated, the musical overlay is a stereotypical set of ominous tones mixed with occasional percussive moments to suit the “action” scenes, and one cannot help being aware of the degree to which the filmmaker favours images of people crying and relies on the perpetual journalistic question, “what are you feeling?”.
Moreover, the constant shift from showing the footage being gathered to clips of news reports making use of that footage seems a little too self-congratulatory, forming a contrast with the whole display of concern for the suffering of the citizens of Mariupol that, rather than indicating the inner conflict endured by a professional journalist, instead suggests a guy who wants to sell his movie every which way he can. Even the number of times he invokes thoughts of his daughters starts to seem like a bit of a performance. All that may not be totally fair, but it’s probably not totally wrong either, and Oscars and Pulitzers are the result. And while it might not have anything much to do with the film, it also bears remembering that Mariupol has a whole other long history, and that eight decades before the events depicted here, in November 1941, the work of the Sonderkommando was done and the city was declared Jew-free.
In short, while bravery was undoubtedly required, and while the images of destruction, injury and death offer a powerful glimpse into the damage wrought by heavy artillery and missiles, it is still the case that the documentary has been manufactured by stitching news footage together in a way that is too obviously designed with the idea of manipulating the viewer’s thoughts and feelings in predetermined ways, always aiming to “immerse” the viewer in the experience while studiously avoiding anything resembling analysis. As a result, while calling it “war porn” would be going too far, it is nevertheless the case that it never escapes the confines of the “war is heck” format.
Moreover, the constant shift from showing the footage being gathered to clips of news reports making use of that footage seems a little too self-congratulatory, forming a contrast with the whole display of concern for the suffering of the citizens of Mariupol that, rather than indicating the inner conflict endured by a professional journalist, instead suggests a guy who wants to sell his movie every which way he can. Even the number of times he invokes thoughts of his daughters starts to seem like a bit of a performance. All that may not be totally fair, but it’s probably not totally wrong either, and Oscars and Pulitzers are the result. And while it might not have anything much to do with the film, it also bears remembering that Mariupol has a whole other long history, and that eight decades before the events depicted here, in November 1941, the work of the Sonderkommando was done and the city was declared Jew-free.
In short, while bravery was undoubtedly required, and while the images of destruction, injury and death offer a powerful glimpse into the damage wrought by heavy artillery and missiles, it is still the case that the documentary has been manufactured by stitching news footage together in a way that is too obviously designed with the idea of manipulating the viewer’s thoughts and feelings in predetermined ways, always aiming to “immerse” the viewer in the experience while studiously avoiding anything resembling analysis. As a result, while calling it “war porn” would be going too far, it is nevertheless the case that it never escapes the confines of the “war is heck” format.
Mini Review: Demonstrates how quickly a city can fall into chaos and destruction when targeted in war. Chernov is willing to accept the risks involved in reporting from a war zone, but his voiceover seems a bit calculated, the music is a stereotypical set of ominous tones mixed with percussive moments to suit the “action” scenes, and one cannot help being aware of the degree to which the filmmaker favours images of people crying and relies on the perpetual journalistic question, “what are you feeling?”.
Watch the Trailer