Slava Leontyev is an enemy of Putin’s blood-thirsty Z thugs in two ways. He is a soldier defending his Ukrainian homeland against an Imperialistic invasion and an artist preserving Ukrainian art against a cultural genocide. Collaborating with his wife, he has created remarkable porcelain figurines. Working for the first time as a filmmaker, he now documents the atrocities of Putin’s war as they happen in Porcelain War, co-directed by Brendan Bellomo & Leontyev, which is now playing in New York.
The art Leontyev makes with his childhood friend, art school classmate, and life-partner Anya Stasenko combines Ukrainian tradition with their own whimsical sensibilities. Figurines like their dragonlings are ornately decorated, but their shapes and expressions are quite appealing, even cute. Not surprisingly, their figurines have become moral boosting mascots for Leontyev’s “Saigon” Unit, who specialize in dangerous missions in compromised territory.
Porcelain also serves as a rather clever national metaphor for Leontyev and Stasenko. As a material, it easily breaks, but can withstand extreme heat and easily restores if it is buried for centuries. The aptness of the comparison to Ukraine is obvious, especially as we watch the Saigon Unit taking fire, as the fight their way towards wounded infantrymen needing medical assistance.
The third focal artist is Andrey Stefano, the couple’s closest friend. Until Putin’s unprovoked invasion, Stefano worked as a painter, but he shifted his focused to filmmaking to document the horrific events unfolding around him. Almost all the footage was filmed by the primaries, but Stefano has the sole cinematographer credit. Obviously, he too understands art’s role as a method of resistance and bearing witness. Yet, his primary concern is always his two daughters, whom he managed to safely shuttle out of the country.
Porcelain War is easily the best film documenting the war in Ukraine since Mstyslav Chernov’s 20 Days in Mariupol. By far, it best establishes the personalities of its subjects, while still fully conveying the extreme circumstances they face (that even includes Chernov’s doc, which is even more powerful in other ways). Perhaps the most telling moment comes when Leontyev ruefully observes the obscene death toll for young Russian soldiers, who are routinely sacrificed on the battlefield, as if they are completely disposable to Putin’s regime.
You can see the devastation caused by Russian war crimes throughout Porcelain War, yet somehow the three principal subjects keep emphasizing positive aspects, such as the courage of their countrymen and their determination to embrace life over death. This is especially true of Stasenko. Bellomo and Leontyev also maintain a brisk pace, never allowing the film to bog down in observational minutiae. As a result, this is a deeply compelling and surprisingly inspirational film. Very highly recommended, Porcelain War is now playing in New York at the IFC Center and opens this Friday (11/29) in Los Angeles.