It
inspired partisans and sustained dissidents. Ever since Matvei Blanter and
Mikhail Isakovsky penned the neo-retro-folk song in 1938, it has been a perennial
favorite in Russia and many of the former Soviet Republics. Kandis Friesen
traces its personal and familial significance in her life, as well as its
cultural and military influence within the former Soviet sphere of influence in
the short but provocative documentary Katyusha:
Rocket Launchers, Folk Songs, and Ethnographic Refrains, which screens
during the 2017 DOXA Documentary Film Festival in Vancouver.
Frankly,
this is exactly the sort of film that usually doesn’t work, but it does in this
case, thanks in large measure to the song’s rich history. The tale of Katyusha
pining for her brave lover off defending the motherland in the Great Patriotic
War touches many of the same “We’ll Meet Again”/“White Christmas” heartstrings
that made plenty of wartime hits in the West, but “Katyusha” continued to
linger in the collective memories of plenty of Russians and Ukrainians. In
fact, Soviet-era pop star Anna German’s most popular recording was her mid-1960s
rendition of “Katyusha.”
However,
German had secrets that led Friesen to feel a kinship with the singer, who died
prematurely from cancer. They shared a Ukrainian Mennonite heritage and both
had relatives who disappeared in the night during the Stalin era. Friesen grew
up in Canada, but discovered “Katyusha” as it drifted through the Slavic diaspora,
with the help of an expatriate Chinese violinist. In addition to the “soft
power” of “Katyusha,” Friesen chronicles its more militaristic side as well.
The same lyrically romantic ballad was indeed the inspiration for the name of the
Katyusha rocket launcher, recommended by 9 out of 10 leftist insurgents around
the world.
Somehow,
through “Katyusha,” Friesen creates a chain of links that include the
Kalashnikov assault rifle and Sam the Record Man suburban mall stores, in a way
that never sounds forced. Her own family history dovetails eerily neatly with
that of German’s, as well as that of other divas who have interpreted the song.
Frankly, the tragic tone of the song perfectly suits the realities of the
Soviet and Putin eras. Friesen’s collage-style visual approach also evokes a
sense of a shattered history that must be pieced together as well as possible.
