Suspilne Media

A documentary story about the participation and victory at the Eurovision Song Contest 2022 by the Ukrainian band Kalush Orkestra.

A documentary about how Russia has been using popular culture as a weapon against Ukraine for decades. Together with industry participants, the film's narrator, musician Albert Tsukrenko, explores the financial, political and psychological reasons for the vulnerability of Ukrainian artists and reflects on how to break this vicious circle. Unfortunately, our own Ukrainian talents are becoming the ammunition in this weapon. Several generations of original Ukrainian musicians at different times in the 1970s and 1980s, 1990s and 2000s, and 2010s switched from Ukrainian to Russian in their work. Whether willingly or unwittingly, they became tools of Russian show business, which has always sought to blur the cultural border between Russia and Ukraine and worked to promote the imperial myth of "one nation".

A year ago, on 29 December 2019, prisoners were exchanged with the self-proclaimed ‘LPR’ and ‘DPR’. Among the Ukrainians who returned home were journalist Stanislav Aseyev, tanker Bohdan Pantiushenko, and human rights activist Andriy Yarovoi. Four months earlier, on 7 September, Crimeans Oleg Sentsov and Oleksandr Kolchenko were released from Russian colonies. We spoke to the former prisoners about their first year of freedom.

The story is not only about Ukrainian museums during a full-scale war, but about the survival of our culture in general. The occupiers are trying to destroy it and steal it, but thanks to museum workers, it is not only being protected, but also multiplied.

This is a story about the Ukrainian comic book industry. The authors introduce the audience to a still little-known and under-appreciated art form in Ukraine - drawn stories. Where did this art come from? When did it appear in our country? What forms did it take in the Soviet era and how did it change in the first years of independence?

Director, choreographer, actress, singer – the usual professional roles for the heroines of this film stopped working at the beginning of Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine. Like millions of Ukrainian men and women, who were saving themselves and their loved ones and volunteering. Creative pursuits returned later, but now in a new dimension. Iryna, Olena, Oksana, and Maryna became the voices that tell the world about Ukrainians, their culture and their struggle for freedom. But how can one be heard in a world where Russian propaganda has been spread for centuries?

On the morning of October 10, editor Yury Marchenko was supposed to be running through Shevchenko Park, near his home, at the same time as the Russian rockets hit it. One of them — to the playground, the other — to the intersection of Shevchenko Boulevard and Volodymyrska Street. The blast wave damaged "strategic" objects: museums, educational institutions, restaurants, galleries, hospitals, the Ministry of Education, the Teacher's House and the protective structure around the monument to Mykhailo Hrushevskyi. We are looking for an answer not only with Yuriy Marchenko, but also with volunteer Serhii Prytula, architect Slava Balbek, historian Oleksandr Palii, military expert Serhii Kuzan, deputy director of the National Science and Natural History Museum of the National Academy of Sciences Oksana Chervonenko and director of the Khanenko Museum Yulia Vaganova.

The artists Zhanna Kadyrova and Denys Ruban spent two weeks in the basement of their house, fleeing from the rocket attacks and sabotage groups of the occupiers that were flooding the outskirts of Kyiv at the time, and then decided to evacuate to western Ukraine. Local residents of one of the Zakarpattia villages sheltered them in a picturesque house on a hillside, next to a river. Doing what you know and love for the benefit of Ukraine is the best thing an artist can do in times of war. This is how the Palianytsia project was born - a series of objects made of stones cut by a mountain river. Zhanna sells them to patrons and galleries and uses the proceeds to buy bulletproof vests, radios, thermal imagers and other things our soldiers need. Before she sends her ‘loaves’ to Venice for the Biennale, Zhanna holds an exhibition in the village where she now lives, so that the people who have taken her in can be the first to see her art.