Capital Irish ’26: Sanatorium

To quote Jobim’s “Waters of March:” “It’s the mud, it’s the mud.” For decades, Ukrainians visited the Kuyalnyk Sanatorium because the mud from the surrounding beaches is thought to have medical value. Traditionally, it served as a combination rehab center and luxury resort. During the Communist Era, only the well-connected could book a room, even though the hulking towers had several thousands. Today, occupancy is below 20%. Understandably, the Russian shelling greatly hurt their business, but even before that, the property had seen better days. Irish filmmaker Gar O’Rourke observes the staff as they try to hold the Kuyalnyk together for another season in the documentary Sanatorium, which screens Sunday during the Capital Irish Film Festival.

When it was constructed, all big Soviet-era buildings were supposed to look like the Kuyalnyk, but time is harsh on this kind of Brutalist architecture. The Soviet construction materials haven’t exactly aged well either. Consequently, Dmitriy, the burly general manager (who seems to hold at least a partial ownership stake), must constantly oversee repairs, which more often involve short-term patches rather than long-term fixes.

The guest rooms are spartan and the common areas look threadbare. Yet, its faded grandeur clearly appeals to some clients. Once you acclimate to the Kuyalnyk, it starts to look and feel like the sort of place where Chekhov characters would settle in for extended residences.

O’Rourke takes a scrupulously observational approach, but he breaks up his shots and seeks out colorful staff conversations. Sanatorium might be comparatively quiet, but it never qualifies as static “slow cinema.”

Although not entirely preoccupied with Putin’s dirty war, inevitably the war periodically intrudes on the Kuyalnyk and their guests. Anyone who stays for more than a day or two is bound to visit the sanatorium’s bomb shelter. Since the invasion, they have also hosted many rehabbing soldiers.

It seems like the medical director, Dr. Olena, practices legit medicine, but the mud treatments look like big messy placebos. Much of the equipment also appears retro in the wrong kind of way. However, the Kuyalnyk’s repeat customers swear by the mud.

In fact, Dmitriy considers his guests heroes for defying the war, for the sake of the irtreatment and/or holiday—and O’Rourke clearly invites agreement from the viewer. Inded, his valid point is duly taken. Indeed, a few air raid sirens can be very convincing.

O’Rourke and cinematographer Denys Melnyk fully capture the sanatorium’s imposing scale and its elegant seediness. The significance of individual scenes varies, but the film conveys a vivid sense of a very particular place. Recommended for the way it helps broaden viewers’ perspective on the Ukrainian experience under Communism and Putin’s campaign of terror, Sanatorium screens this Sunday (3/1) during the Capital Irish Film Festival (following its screenings at this year’s SBIFF).