In the recent wave of documentaries presenting Ukraine's gruesome reality amidst Russia’s relentless territorial aggression, "Timestamp" distinguishes itself. The film portrays young Ukrainians hoping to call this war-ridden period 'the past' someday, aiming to equip themselves for an unpredictable future. Although the film vividly captures the widespread devastation, it also highlights a hopeful, unforced, and hard-earned ray of optimism.
The Berlinale competition's only documentary felicitation goes to Kateryna Gornostai's "Timestamp," succeeding her award-winning coming-of-age film “Stop-Zemlia.” This sincere and scriptless documentary might seem like an artistic diversion, but Gornostai's empathetic portrayal of youth remains a common highlight in both. Most importantly, "Timestamp" reinforces Gornostai's knack for insightful storytelling about youth’s tribulations and vibrant freshness, despite the testing times.
Gornostai's film cleverly ditches narration or commentary, choosing instead to install her camera in elementary and high school classrooms across Ukraine. It monitors educational traditions persisting in the face of war, while capturing the swift adaptation to new routines. The timetable less documentary, shot between March 2023 and June 2024, roughly traces a school year, concluding with the mixed feelings at graduation - a complex blend of anxiety and promise.
Distinctive shifts in atmosphere are observed across common educational spaces, invigorating the sense of their fragility amidst war. Usual school activities often precede a moment of silence to mourn the dead and are frequently disrupted by air raid sirens. These sirens provoke a rushed evacuation to cramped shelters, where persistent teachers attempt to continue lessons amidst competing noise from other classrooms.
The teachers strive to normalize the war-induced chaos by adapting their lessons to the present conditions. They teach children about not touching unanticipated objects on the streets as casually as explaining traffic lights. Older students are trained in firearm usage, a somber reality check amidst any attempted military propaganda. In essence, "Timestamp" underlines life’s critical lessons leaped into unanticipated precedence due to war, whether within classrooms or at unwanted events like a principal's funeral after a blast.
Yet, amidst the grim, accelerated leap into adulthood, instances of joy and normalcy like birthday celebrations and traditional dances still unfold. “This is your life - it's all for you,” says a soldier to the graduating class, capturing this evocative mosaic of survival, leaving young minds to ponder the remnants post-war.
