'2000 meters to Andriivka' Revision: an dispatch of soaking from the first line of Ukraine

We know for the headlines that small -scale technologies such as drones have transformed war, which most urgently affects Ukraine's ability to remain in a blunt battle for their existence against Russia. But the same is also done to cover the war, especially the type of fleet, an office close to which we can now say that Ukrainian filmmaker Mstyslav Chernov is a teacher.

The monitoring of the correspondent of Associated Press to his heartbreaking, winner of the Oscar “20 days in Mariupol”, which made the first weeks of Russia invasion within a city under siege, is another intimate perspective on the devastation of his country. But this time it is from the first line of the 2023 counteroffensive of Ukraine, specifically the nightmare walk of a brigade to release a city occupied by the Russian. In its moving intimacy, courtesy of the helmet cameras, the drones and the connection of the fox hole between the citizen soldier and the journalist of Countryman, “2000 meters to Andriivka” is a chronicle of war like no other.

Immediately, Chernovo presents us to the chaos of the war with Bodycam images of a Ukrainian soldier named Piro. It is a refuge pov that captures how a pause marked by jokes and cigarettes can quickly become enemy fire, shouts and artillery shells flying. A retirement is abandoned when the armored carrier of the ban farian gets stuck. In the resulting fight, the comrades are beaten and we listen to a resigned: “That is for me.” Suddenly, this point of view feels less like one of a trench but like a grave.

It is not surprising that Chernov's measurement sounds more gloomy. His speculative fear of “Mariupol” has been replaced by tiredness driven by the facts. He and colleague Ap Alex Babenko continue, embedding in a battalion in charge of an impulse of a mile to resume the city of Andriivka near a Russian fortress. The road, however, is a thin forest tape that hides the Russians in the trenches, fortified on each side by open mines fields.

In addition, the “forest” of designation seems generous: twisted and stripped trees seem broken, which suggests an open moor instead of a battlefield that could provide coverage. Clearly they have already seen a lot of destruction, and at the end of the film, they will have seen more. Chernovo tells us that a soldier described this unrecognizable homeland for him as “landing on a planet where everything is trying to kill you.”

The first person footage as the Avanza group is out of breath and dense with shots, screams and the feeling that each inch will be difficult on the path of planting that Ukrainian flag in Andriivka, which, from drone shooting, already seems decimated. (The film is divided into chapters that indicate won meters). “I came to fight, not to serve,” says the war dog of this brigade of a leader, a former warehouse worker named Fedya who at one time receives a shot but returns to the mission after being evacuated to receive treatment.

Still, During Long Foxhole Waits, When the Only Visible Smoke Is From A Cigrette, Chernov's Gentle Off-Camera Queries to Fedya's Men (Rancing from The Hopelessly Young to A 40-Something New Grandfather) Elicit Touching Optimism for a Normal Life Shower, A Job, Friendly Rivalries Over Trivial Matters, The Chance to Smoke Less, To Fix A Toilet Back Home, To Rebuild. Then Chernov's voice offers through the gently spoken hammer glance in the future: what types of these guys will they die in later battles or maybe they will never find themselves? This is something uncolt.

There has never been a war documentary as immersive as “2000 meters in Andriivka”, splitting as it does to changes between danger and bored boredom, mixing aerial shots (including an advantage of suicidal drones) and underground views such as a dystopian saga. War is hell, but Ukraine survival is essential. Folly, however, seems a constant. “Why are you here?” A Ukrainian soldier bricks to a captured Russian, who murmurs: “I don't know why we are here.”