Heritage of the nation is a captivating look into Ukraine's history

Even though I missed the opportunity to see both Barbie and Oppenheimer last sumer, I did get to attend a private screening of something just as amazing, touching and, in my opinion, severly underrated in wider documentarian and film circles out there, and that was the Ukrainian film Heritage of the nation (Спадок нації), which I got to see alongside my reluctant best friend (who, surprisingly, ended up enjoying the experiance, despite her lack of fondness for the genre at hand). I had spoken a lot about my Ukrainian heritage and exposure to their rich history, culture and media catalogue in general on this blog, as well as my fondness for documentaries as a genre of both films and TV, so, today finally came the day when I can gush about both of these aspects in one post. Oh the joy (for me, not for my poor readers who will be forced endure my enthusiasm)!!!

The film is Ukraine's first cinematic forray into one of their national and cultural symbols; the vyshyvka (a traditional style of folk embroidery with patterns differing from region to region and, sometimes, even from one commune or family to another), more specifically, the embrodied shirts or vysyhvankas, and their troubled journey through Ukraine's chaotic and everchanging social, cultural, psychologycal, political and historical scene, from the fall of Austria-Hungary to the 21st century. Vyshyvankas are a unique testament to the country's strength, as they had survived numerous bans and other forms of scrutiny from the governing powers (be those the Poles, the Russians, or other opressors the country had bumped it's heads with over the years) and remain a strong and potent reminder of their uniqueness amongst the other Slavic nations, even having their own international festival, which falls on May 16th.

Like my previous review of the book A history of the Croatian people by Trpimir Macan (which you can read here), this one will definetely fall on the shorter side, as, just like non-fiction, documentaries aren't as easy to review as other genres. However, as a fan, I will try my best to transfer the feelings this masterpiece brough on onto my unsuspecting readers.

So, let us start with...

(1) The Visuals

From big budget movies and shows to book illustrations and low budget YouTube skits, visuals are everything. They form the majority of the basis behind our perception of all media we consume and can have an equally profound impact on the viewer as the words on a page of a book or screenplay. So, naturally, a film about one of the most stunning and drop dead gorgeous pieces of the European cultural paradigm should look bloody amazing, and every scene posseses a certain amount of identity and achieves a specific tone and feel (usually a very somber one, contrasted only by the beauty of the embroidment itself, which makes sense considering the context behind everything).

The movie combines archival footage, photographs and reenactments with real time footage of things like interviews and festivals, which is a standard practice for most documentaries, yes, but, it's all about the presentation of the visual material at hand. My favorite documentary film of all time, Stieg Larsson: The man who played with fire (2018), uses the exact same tactics and manages to perfectly capture the brutal and honest portrayal of Stockholm's urban underbelly during the rise of Sweden's neonazi movement managing to both present it's audience with the facts and yet still remain and engaging and visually appealing experiance that I'll gladly rewatch more than once.

Thankfully, same can be said about Heritage of the nation.

Ukraine is a country of many colors, and I'm not just talking about it's majestic towns and cities and picturesque natural scenery, but also it's history and rich cultural heritage that's been changing and developing since prehistoric times. The vyshyvka (and subsequently, the vyshyvankas in general) reflects that through the many symbolisms it's shapes and colors represent in the wider scope of things. The film's color palette is rich with it's various shades and patterns, managing to craft a tale like you've never managed to see before, through which hope, death and even a tiny bit of magic, manage to come through in equal manner, telling us a story not just about a specific aspect of a culture, but a grand over 200 year long saga about one brave nation's history.

(2) The Reenactments

The movie actually starts off with a very chilling opening.

Somewhere in rural parts of western Ukraine (judging by the clothing and the interior design of the home this could take place from as early as the period of the Russian empirial reign over Ukraine to the early days of the Soviet Union), a couple quickly gathers all of their most valuable possesions, terrifyingly looking around, however, the director chooses to direct focus specifically to a single item, an embroided shirt the wife places in a wooden trunk. They frantically load this trunk on top of a wagon and head out into the unkown, cutting back to them now in the middle of the forest, sitting on the afforementioned trunk, leaning on each other's backs and staring into the skies above them. The title card flashes and the movie finally begins. It's a simply directed and, say for the last scene, not very visually memorable, but it's poigniant and stands out as a brutal, yet powerful reminder of the hardships Ukrainian people had faced in the attempts to preserve their cultural identity. Granted, some who don't have the cultural and historical understadment may not realize the full impact of the sequence, however, in my opinion, it is one of the most quintessential moments in the history of the 21st century Ukrainian cinema and a true visual monument to the struggles of patriotism.

There is another reenactment placed around the midpoint of the film's runtime where we see a man getting stormed by Russian nationalists sometime during the begginning of the Russo-Ukrainian conflict in 2014, however, whilst it is chilling in it's own manner, it is rather brief and not particularly memorable, so there really isn't much to say in regards to any of the components that made it special. It's not that it's poorly executed, but it delivers it's message across quite well, so I can't quite fault it.

(3) Other aspects

There are two other geniunely well executed aspects of the documentary which I would like to mention here. They may not something incredibly special or never seen before, but I don't want to leave any stone unturned when it comes to my reviews. I decided the combine the two into one, mostly because there really isn't all that much to say about either of the two aspects that would warrant them to be placed in two different categories. The aspects in question are the film's soundtrack and the interviewed eyewitnesses and/or experts.

I'm unsure if the soundtrack of the film consisted of stock music or if it was geniunely composed by an individual (or a group of them), but even the former's the case, I didn't think it was half that bad, given that we are talking about an indie production without major studio backing. I know this type of soundtracks in indie films usually end up getting a lot of flack (Hell, I've been no stranger to vicious mockery of this practice myself), but, for what it's worht it did manage to be an audial aid in conveying moods of certain scenes. Personally, I would have included far more folk music if I were in charge of making this and I don't really understand why the creators didn't go this route, however, in the end, stock music or not, it's applied relatively well to the final product without much distraction from the final product, so, whilst it's not the best executed or most memorable part of the film, it doesn't make it unwatchable.

As far as the interviews go, they certainly were memorble and offered up some geniunely heartwarming, whimsical, however, also many bleak or heartbreaking personal stories and annecdotes connected to the vyshyvka and the many variations of it. Now, personally, I always preffered it when these, as they're known in documenatary and pseudo-documenatary jargon, talking heads segements, feature experts within the field of study the movie or show deals with, rather than just hiring random individuals (unless they're based on the life a still living or a recently passed away individual), however, this is meant to be equally an informative piece, as well as a collection of personal stories and the creators did wish for the movie to be a sort off a portrait of the Ukrainians as a nation and ethnic/cultural group, so I won't pretend like I don't understand this choice and I won't harp too much on it, as said interviewees do seem to have a passion for the subject matter and do indeed feel like true blue (in more ways than one) patriots and there were indeed stories (partricularly that of what a village that was flooded by Stalin's forces and the story of a soldier who never came home from war) that hit me on a deeply human level. So, yeah, it's safe to say that both aspects were remarkabley well executed, again, especially for an independently produced film.

So, in the end, would I reccomend this film?

I certainly would. If you're interested in learning more about Ukrainian culture, people and overall history and are struggling to find sources, this movie will certainly be a great jumping off point for further studies. It's quite visually pleasing, there are no sections that don't brand themselves into one's hippocampus and it truly is both an important chapter in Ukrainian film history, an impressive work of journalism as well as a monumental piece of media that serves to preserve one of the majestic country's most important and valuable symbols.