The Last People of Chernobyl

They are called ‘Samosely’ - people who still live in the Chernobyl Exclusion Zone, created after the 1986 nuclear power plant disaster. In their abandoned villages there is no running water, no stores and often no electricity. Many of them are fighting the hardships of old age. Despite three decades spent almost alone, they show a picture of humanity forgotten in the developed world.

How did The Last People of Chernobyl first come together as a project?
In the beginning I was taking part in humanitarian action that aimed to help people living in the exclusion zone (Samosely), it was five years ago. These actions take place every year in winter and since 2016 I took part in every single one. During the first action, my role was to simply document the events, show how these people live and how the humanitarian help is going. Thanks to this, I have had the opportunity to get to know these folks and they got to know me. Every year, we grew closer to these people and they became closer to us. Some of them wait the whole year for our visit, because no one else is coming to see them. During the third humanitarian action we realized that we should give them the opportunity to share their stories, not just with us, but everyone. We did it to show the audiences that just around the corner of a civilized world, there is a different one, full of hardships and solitude, in which the smallest acts of kindness and support are remembered forever.

Lets speak about this different world. You have a fascination with the lives and hardships of people who live in deserted lands. Where did this passion originate from?
When I met them for the first time and saw how they live, I was shocked by how different it is from our everyday existence. How many things we take for granted. Basic utilities like tap water and electricity are unthinkable in many places there. Collecting water in buckets during rain or melting snow, insulating houses with carpets hanging on the walls or with jackets hanging in the windows. Every time I'm there these folks, despite being on their last slice of bread, want to share it with us. Things like this show to me that some people in our "civilised" world got lost somewhere along the way in pursuit of material goods, money or fame. The strength of the people living there is incredible and in a way it forces me to tell their stories.

The natural shooting style captures this incredible strength as we go into these homes in Chernobyl. We see their joy, their hope, their loneliness. How did you get these emotions to come across on screen so effectively?
It was very difficult, when recording I always tried to keep the camera to the side, but at the same time tried to make the frame look good. We did everything to make them forget that they were being recorded. It was very important that they talked to us and not to the camera. Thanks to a properly conducted conversation, their attention was pushed away from the fact that they were on camera. Still, the image had to be meaningful and show something more, I used long lenses and stayed at the back of the group. This allowed our Babushkas to get used to the camera easier. I must add that despite everything, the fact that we got to know each other very well during these 5 years had the greatest impact on the honesty and true emotions of these people. In front of us, they didn't have to pretend anything. They were just telling their stories to people who understand and support them.

It's hard not to draw a parallel between the isolation of these elderly residents and the isolation people feel during a pandemic. Did this idea come up during the film making process?
We recorded this film before the pandemic hit Poland or Ukraine. Paying attention to the isolation of Samosely was one of the key elements from the very beginning. In this case the pandemic had no influence on it, but I think we can now feel what it is like when we cannot see our loved ones for a month. We can only imagine now, how lonely our grandparents can be, if they see their family only a few days a year.

Is your message from this film one of hope? Or a message of warning?
Through these stories I wanted to show evanescence, sorrow, attachment to one's home and most importantly to display the inner strength of these people and their kindness, despite the difficult conditions they live in. I wanted to make the audiences think about it and spotlight the fact that the people are important, not material goods. You can see it clearly in the film, we are bringing bags full of food products and they seem not to care about it, even though they have almost nothing. Not that they don't want it, but first they want to see us, hug us and talk with us. We shouldn't be so eager to judge people, as is evidenced by the stories told in the film. We saw people who, despite their difficult lives are full of love for others and who have not given up. However, the most important aspect is passing, which will affect us all. The film reminds us to remember what is really important.

Have the people you interviewed been able to watch your film?
Unfortunately, due to the conditions they live in, they did not have such opportunity. The lack of Internet and above all, electricity, makes it impossible. And due to the pandemics we are experiencing right now, we are unable to visit them. However, I must say that, even in the nearby future, when we will visit them again and offer to watch the film, they'd probably rather want to devote this time to what is happening at the moment. Once again, they will put everything they have on the kitchen table, open a moonshine bottle and talk to us for hours until their throats turn sour. We will try to show them at least part of it.

What projects are coming up for you in the future?
There are many challenges ahead of me, but now I really want to create a feature film that will be inspired by The Last People of Chernobyl.

Do you have any message for our Melbourne audience?
Stay healthy and appreciate every moment. We always think that we have time and that our loved ones will always be there, until it suddenly turns out that time is up.